But when she woke early in the morning, she rose from bed. Her foot was still tender but it felt much better and some light work seemed in order. Padding to the small kitchen, she began to cook breakfast.
Mixing up a batch of tattie scones to go along with the eggs and bacon, Elle hummed to herself. Blair had spent the last two days repairing the boat while Ailean finished cutting the grass about the house. Today, Ailean would roll it for the sheep to graze on this winter while Blair would travel south.
He needed lumber to begin work on the docks so that the ships might be delivered. He’d told her even with employing half the village, the first two piers would take most of the summer. He hoped to roll the workers he used for the building into his shipping business.
If he truly could employ half the town, Malcolm would lose most of his influence.
Ailean poked his head over the rail of the loft. “What are ye makin’?” he called.
Before she could answer, Blair poked his head over too. “Why aren’t ye in bed?”
“Scones and I’ll die of boredom if I lay there another minute.” She gave them both a grin. “I promise I’ll lay back down after breakfast.”
Blair narrowed his eyes but one corner of him mouth quirked up. “Fine. While I’d prefer you stay in bed, my stomach would like to test yer scones.”
A giggle bubbled out of her mouth. When was the last time she’d laughed? “Do ye like scones?”
“One of my favorites,” he called as he came down the ladder from the loft.
Elle didn’t say it out loud, but inside she vowed to make him scones every day. Blair had effortlessly brought joy back into their lives.
He came to stand behind her as she worked. Though he didn’t touch her, she could feel him and her skin tingled with awareness.
Ailean hopped down from the ladder and barreled past her. “I’ll feed the animals while ye cook so I’ll be ready to start work as soon as breakfast is done.” Then he was out the door.
“He’s a good lad, Elle,” Blair rumbled behind her.
She turned back to him then. Her breath caught. He was so close that his breath fanned her face. “Aye, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
He brought one of his hands to her waist. “I’m glad ye both came.”
“So am I,” she murmured. They were drifting closer. Many men had tried to kiss her in her life, including Malcolm. She’d had an array or reactions from revulsion to curiosity. But here with Blair, she wanted this with an intensity that was frightening.
That fear didn’t stop her, however, from moving closer still. How would he taste? She’d guess delicious.
The door banged open again. “Blair,” Ailean yelled. “Smoke coming from the north.”
Blair straightened. “Hell and damnation.” Then he crossed to the door and grabbed his coat. “Stay with yer sister.” He pointed at Ailean before he strode out the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then, it snapped shut behind him.
Elle stared at the closed door not sure what to think but uneasiness filled her belly. Not knowing what else to do, she began cooking again. Keeping her hands busy prevented her mind from running through all the terrible possibilities.
It was near an hour before Blair came back but when he did, his face was set in grim lines. He sat at the table without a word and Elle, stopped for a moment, holding her breath. Did she ask?
Instead, she fixed a plate, setting it in front of him.
“Thank ye, lass.” His voice, unlike his features, was smooth and easy. It relaxed her as she prepared food for her and Ailean and they crowded about the table together.
“What happened?” She tried to keep her tone as easy as his had been but she could hear the tightness in her own voice.
He took several bites of his scone before he answered. “These are delicious.”
“Thank ye,” she answered not asking again. She searched his face instead, hoping for a clue.
He took a deep breath. “The big house is on fire. It’ll burn to the ground.”
“Your house?” A lump formed in her throat. She covered it with her hand the fear she’d been trying to push down, rising up into her chest.
He shrugged but the lines of his face were taut with tension. “It was a pile of rubble. The fire is doing me a favor.”