Kilted Sin (Brethren of Stone 3)

Gemma’s eyes narrowed. “Do widows usually stay on leased land like that?”

He lifted one shoulder. “If I remove her, where would she go?”

Gemma’s face softened as her lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s a good thing you don’t farm sheep.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, straightening.

“You’d never be able to slaughter them.” She touched his hand. “It’s what I like best about you.”

She was wearing him down. He had the urge to pull her against his body and kiss her with all he had. “I’m not sure that’s really a compliment for a man.”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot of hardness in this world. I like that you’re more—”

“Soft?” he rumbled raising a brow.

“You’re not soft. A soft man would not plow fields from sun up to sun down. But you are far more noble than any man I’ve ever met.”

He couldn’t help himself. He lifted his hand and touched her braid, allowing his fingers to caress her silky tresses. He began to say thank you but as he did, she stood on tiptoe and softly placed her lips against his. It was a light touch but it lit his insides on fire. “Gemma,” he ground out, trying to slow his breathing as she lowered herself back down.

“Thank you for showing me that the world can still be good.”

His fingers curled into fists as resisted the urge to crush her against his chest. Was that true? Or was she manipulating him again? “You’re welcome,” he answered and then he turned. He needed to go but he knew his thoughts would be on Gemma the rest of the day.

* * *

Gemma spent the morning thinking about Will. A man like that…she sighed. A man like that a woman should grab hold of and never let go.

Unfortunately for her, she may have ruined her chance before she’d even known it was worth taking. Not that he could be hers. Why was she even worried? She had already tried marriage, and it didn’t work for her. Will seemed invested in his current business, but what if he changed his mind or found different affairs that took him away from her for long periods of time?

“Why are you sighing?” Fiona asked.

She focused back in on the children. They’d had breakfast, completed a lesson, and were now playing in the nursery. “I think we should get out a bit,” Gemma said.

Fiona clapped. ?

?That sounds wonderful.”

“Let’s go ask Mrs. Cleary and Mrs. Hammond if they’ve any errands that need running.”

Fiona jumped up from the floor as Gemma scooped up Ewan.

Mrs. Hammond had been delighted with the idea and had set them off to purchase a roast for the next night’s dinner.

As they walked, Gemma held Fiona’s hand and they sang. Hope filled her chest and bubbled along her veins as they made their way. She tried to remember the last time she’d been this happy.

They went to the butcher first and picked up the package of meat. Then, as they started home, they began walking down Main Street. Just ahead was the little sign for McLean’s office.

“We’ve one more stop to make,” she said to Fiona as she pulled the girl toward the office. She wanted to know what the magistrate had to say. She did. But rather than excitement, a dread filled her belly and bile rose in her throat as she stood under the sign. But that was silly. This was what she’d come all this way for.

“I’ve been here before,” Fiona said, looking up at the sign. “Did the man find us a new home?” Her little voice squeaked with worry.

“Nothing like that,” Gemma soothed. She understood Will’s hesitation about keeping the children but as she glanced down at Fiona, she tried to picture leaving the girl…letting her go. It made her ache inside. “Mr. McLean sent me a letter months ago that I need to ask him about.” She stroked Fiona’s cheek.

Fiona nodded and then licked her lips. “We’ll be good as gold. Can you tell Will that? We won’t cause any trouble.”

She grimaced as she bent to give Fiona a hug. “Of course you will be.” Then she straightened.

Opening the door, she walked into the office. She stood in a waiting room of sorts, with a few wooden chairs to sit in. Two doors stood side by side on the far wall but only one was open. A tall, thin man sat behind the desk. “May I help you?” he called as he raised his head.