Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Her gaze snagged on movement near the stream’s path, and her fingers stilled. Raff was returning, his pace unhurried, the last golden rays glinting off the damp strands of his dark hair as he pulled a shirt over his head.
She had grown used to the rough look he had carried when he first arrived—the unkempt hair, the thick beard that had made his expressions nearly unreadable. Now, trimmed and tamed, he looked… different. His features were finer than she had realized, sharp angles softened by the autumn light. The strength in his broad shoulders was undeniable, his every movement fluid and sure. A warrior’s grace.
Edith followed her gaze and let out a low hum. “Mmm, now there’s a pleasant sight,” she murmured, tilting her head as she studied Raff. “He’s one fine looking man. If I didn’t have my Ralph, he’d be at the top of my husband list.” She poked Ingrid with her elbow. “It’s time for you to find a husband and I daresay you could do worse than him.”
Ingrid blinked, tearing her eyes away from him. “Don’t let Ralph catch you talking that way,” she said, arching a brow, though smiled. “I thought Ralph was the love of your life.”
Edith shrugged, her lips curving in a smile. “He is but that doesn’t mean a woman can’t admire other men. Especially when something fine crosses her path.”
Agnes, however, did not share their amusement. She crossed her arms, her expression darkening. “You should be wary of him,” she said in a low voice. “Laird Chafton has been grasping at our village recently. What if he sent this one to spy on us?”
Ingrid frowned. “Laird Chafton wants more wool from us. If he harms us, he won’t get it.”
Agnes scoffed. “Aye, not yet, though that could change quickly. But men like him, warriors who suddenly appear with no past, no ties? That doesn’t sit right. And with Laird Chafton pressing us more and more…”
Edith waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t sour the moment, Agnes. If he’s here to cause trouble, we’ll find out soon enough. Until then, I’ll enjoy the view.”
Ingrid forced a chuckle, but Agnes’s words left a weight in her chest. She had wondered about Raff from the moment he arrived. He was strong, skilled in ways that spoke of a past he kept to himself. And while he had been nothing but helpful since meeting him, there was a restlessness in him, admitting he’d been traveling for a while, which meant he was searching but for what? And that made her a bit uneasy.
She looked at him again, watched as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, shaking out the last drops of water. He caught her gaze then, pausing for a heartbeat before offering a slow nod.
Ingrid hesitated, then nodded back.
Spy or not, Raff was a mystery she could not ignore.
As he strode toward them, Edith and Agnes exchanged quick glances.
Edith flashed a sly smile. “Be nice, Ingrid. He has prime husband potential.” Then she slipped away.
Agnes cast her a wary glance and hurried to say before rushing off, “He’s a stranger. Take it slow.”
Their absence left an odd silence, unusual for her since words rarely failed her. She needn’t worry. He was quick with his own words.
“Did I chase them away?” he asked, amusement flaring in his eyes.
Ingrid tilted her head. “They were talking about you.”
He raised a brow. “Aye? Should I be flattered or concerned?”
She smirked. “A bit of both, I imagine. After all, you are a stranger to us all.”
He laughed briefly, his expression playful. “Understandable.”
Ingrid took the moment to study him up close, noting again how different he looked. Not just cleaned up, but… more settled. Or perhaps more resolved. It only deepened her curiosity.
“You mentioned you spent a year wandering. Where did you call home before that?” she asked, a reasonable question.
Raff’s smile faded slightly. “A distance from here.”
She waited for more, but he only looked at her expectantly. Not willing to let the moment pass, she tried again. “Surely a man like you had a place, a purpose before now?”
His gaze drifted across the village, then back to her. “Everyone has a past, Ingrid. Not all of us are eager to speak of it.”
His evasion only sharpened her interest. “So, do you plan to stay here, then?”
“For now.”
“I suppose wandering makes it difficult to commit to anything for too long.”
“It can but with winter coming, a longer respite might be what I need.”
She narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to be frustrated or amused. He was careful with his words, avoiding distinct responses. He did not trust easily and there was something about him that made her feel he kept himself apart from people. That he didn’t let anyone get close. Didn’t let anyone truly see him.
Raff glanced at the darkening sky. “Night will be upon us soon.” He met her gaze then, something steady and assured in his expression. “If you ever need help with anything, Ingrid, I’m here for you.”