Loved By a Warrior by Donna Fletcher Page B

life goes on whether we want it to or not and that Tara’s deceased husband probably would want to see her happy.
    Tara tried several times to make the persistent woman understand that Reeve and she were just friends, but to no avail. And that had gotten her thinking. Why would Mara believe that she cared about Reeve? Was it obvious that she cared for him? Whether she loved him or not was too early to tell. After all, they had just met. She couldn’t have fallen in love that fast. She was probably grateful for all he had done for her, and so she felt this tug of gratitude.
    She groaned pitifully, thinking what a poor excuse that was. She slipped out of bed, taking one of the wool blankets with her, and hurried to the hearth. She curled up in the large wooden chair, the blanket snug around her and her feet tucked beneath her.
    She had tossed and turned all night with worry. She wanted very much to remain here, part of the MacAlpin clan. But was it a wise choice? And did she have any other choice?
    Keep your distance.
    She hated that warning voice in her head. She didn’t want to keep her distance from Reeve. She liked him. She enjoyed his company. She felt safe with him. And Lord forgive her, she liked the taste of him, even if it had been just a brief taste.
    Whatever was she going to do?
    First things first, Tara, she scolded silently. You are going to look at that cottage, claim it as your own, and establish roots. There is no point of thinking beyond that. A safe home comes first. The rest can wait.
    Tara felt a bit relieved confronting the problem and narrowing it down to what she needed to focus on. It was then she realized that her ankle was feeling much better. Riding on the horse yesterday and retiring early to bed, though she hadn’t slept much, had given her injury time to heal. She would need to make certain that she didn’t think it completely healed and walk on it all day. She would be careful what she did though she would go see old Alan’s cottage and begin to establish residency there.
    With that thought and a yawn, Tara drifted off to sleep.
    R eeve paced in front of the hearth while his family enjoyed the morning meal.
    â€œSit, Reeve,” his mother ordered.
    â€œI’m not hungry,” he said. “Are you sure she was still asleep?”
    â€œLast I saw, she was curled up in a blanket on the chair in front of the hearth,” Mara said. “I didn’t want to disturb her, assuming she had a fitful night.”
    â€œI wonder if her ankle pained her,” Reeve said. “I should go check on her.”
    â€œI already have,” Mara said. “Now sit and eat.”
    Reeve remained pacing. He was concerned that Tara was curled in the chair instead of the bed. What had troubled her that she couldn’t sleep and sought refuge in the chair?
    Duncan turned to Bryce, and whispered, “I should have wagered one week.”
    The two men laughed.
    T ara woke with a start. It took her a moment to realize where she was, and once she did, she relaxed, though not for long. She wanted to get started on the day. Today she would have her own home. It would be hers and hers alone.
    She noticed that on the bed lay a brown wool skirt and a tan linen blouse. A deep green wool shawl also lay there, and freshly washed stockings hung from the mantel. Mara must have been there and had graciously provided her with garments more suitable to her surroundings. After all, her velvet and silk gowns certainly would not do while here, where hard work was part of daily life.
    Tara was careful unfolding her legs from beneath her, realizing that it had not been a wise choice to tuck her injured ankle under her. It had swollen though not badly, but it did pain her. She silently chastised her own stupidity and, with a limp, walked over to the bed to dress.
    She managed fine until it came to getting her boot over her swollen ankle. She grew frustrated when she couldn’t accomplish