She may be small, but she was packing a mighty punch on him. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
10
The bed was as soft and snug as it had ever been and yet somehow now that she knew Adam better, was aware of his scent and the fact that she was lying in his usual place, she somehow could no longer sleep. She tossed and turned as the comforting smell of him filled her, the blankets seemingly holding her as if they were his own arms.
Stop it, she scolded herself, you’re being ridiculous. The man was too serious, too curmudgeonly, and yet… there was something about him that held her attention and wouldn’t let go. At first, she thought it was his seriously dark, handsome good looks. And yet all of the brothers seemed to hold a similar bearing, each attractive in their own right, but she was drawn to Adam like she had never been to a man before. Certainly not Vincent, she thought with a laugh. Perhaps that was it — she had simply been around Vincent so long that any other attractive man held her attention.
She knew, however, that was not the case. True, Adam wasn’t exactly the droll, humorous type, but she was beginning to realize it was more that he was simply thinking, analyzing what was happening around him. He truly thought about what he wanted to say before he spoke, which was actually quite refreshing for a change.
She tried to push him from her mind and return to sleep, but she was also incredibly thirsty — perhaps from the concoction Jane had continued to encourage her to drink to keep any pain at bay, although Rachel had to say her leg hardly even throbbed at all now. She looked for the cup of water on the bedside table but found it empty. She sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon.
They had all told her to call out if she needed anything, but she certainly was not going to rouse anyone from their beds in order to get her a cup of water — that was ridiculous.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, slightly grimacing as she did so. Perhaps the pain hadn’t quite disappeared after all. You’re stronger than this, Rachel, she told herself, and, in the darkened room, quite determinedly found the walking sticks Adam had fashioned for her. They did afford her a great deal of freedom, and she hoped he would make the design more widely known so that others could benefit.
The kitchens were, of course, one level below, but she did not let that deter her as she grunted and groaned her way down the stairs, taking them carefully, one step at a time. She was rather pleased with herself when she finally reached the bottom, and began making her way down the corridor to where the ancient kitchens were housed.
She was about to push open the door when she saw light emanating from the room through the open crack of the door. It seemed someone else was unable to sleep tonight. She peered around the door and saw broad shoulders bent over the table, the dark head of the man down as he stared into the cup before him, his fingers tapping idly on the table. Adam. Forgetting her thirst, she was suddenly overcome with nerves at the thought of sitting down alone with him, and she began to slowly back away.
“Are ye going to come in or stand in the hallway all night?” he said suddenly, causing her to jump and let out a bit of a squeak.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked, tapping her way into the kitchen.
“I could hear ye coming from the moment you started on the stairs,” he said. “Ye’re not exactly silent with your assists.”
“Oh,” she said, embarrassed she had not realized it. “I suppose you’re right.”
She looked around the kitchen, trying to determine where she could find a cup. She hobbled over to a side cupboard and began searching through. Adam saw her struggle and rose, his large frame coming up behind her, suddenly dwarfing her. He placed a large, warm hand over her small one.
“Here,” he said, “let me help.”
She tried to ignore the tingle that coursed through her at his touch as she moved to the side, allowing him to find a cup.
“What would you like?” he asked.
“Water, please,” she said, and he nodded his head, filling the cup for her as she made her way to the small table. After she seated herself across from his place, he set the drink in front of her.
“What has you awake at this hour?” he asked, re-settling himself on the wooden bench.
She felt her cheeks warm. She couldn’t very well tell him that she had been thinking of him lying in the bed, now could she?
“I, ah… um… my leg was bothering me,” she said, rather flustered, and his face changed to a look of concern.
“I thought it was healing. I hope it’s not infected. Would ye like something more for the pain? I’m sure my mother has something in the cupboards if I remember how to brew it…” His head craned around as if looking for answers to her problem.
“Oh, no!” she said, not wanting to take any more of the concoction. “It’s fine. It’s just slightly uncomfortable is all, and then I found myself rather thirsty, hence my journey here to the kitchen.”
“Well, if there is anything ye should need, you’ll tell us, aye?” he said with a raised eyebrow and she nodded.
“Why are you all so nice to me?” she blurted out. “My father was nothing but rude to you, and I know I rather vexed you, though not purposefully. I’m only here because of the stupidity of a member of our hunting party. And yet you’ve all been nothing but
