Finn scoffed, “What is it to ye?”
Gritting her teeth, Emma glared at him, annoyed with the way he always seemed to antagonise her. “Why do ye get angry? I merely asked a question. Is that so bad?”
The muscles in Finn’s jaw seemed to pulse as he stared back at her. Then all of a sudden, his features softened, and the air rushed from his lungs as though he had been holding it. “Listen, I−”
“Emma?”
At the sound of Vaughn’s voice nearby, Emma could have groaned. Even if only for a moment, she wanted nothing more but to speak to Finn and have him speak to her, not as though they were enemies but with kindness. She would give anything to have him once more look at her the way he had the day of her father’s burial. The softness and compassion in his eyes had been breath-taking, and Emma had longed for it for years.
Now, that hope seemed to be dashed as his green gaze hardened, his arms returning to cross over his chest as though to keep her away at all cost. “’Tis none of yer concern why I do anything, ye hear,” he growled, his voice as hard as ever before he stalked off, leaving nothing but prints in the snow.
Chapter Four
All is Fair in Love and War
Storming away, Finn knew that he was acting like a headstrong bairn, unwilling to discuss what bothered him. And yet, if he had stayed a moment longer, he would have acted like a boorish man, yanking her into his arms, claiming her as his and kissing her the way he had wanted to for seven long years.
Ever since that cold winter’s morning when she had surprised him, stunned him witless…and stolen not only a kiss, but his heart as well.
Emma, however, had not wanted him that morning. All she had wanted was to win a game, a dare. She had not wanted him then, and she did not now. Not once since that day had she done anything that would have suggested her feelings on the matter had changed.
Cursing under his breath, Finn curled his good hand around the handkerchief she had put on his scraped knuckles. The pain was minimal, and the cuts would have needed no bandaging. Still, he could not deny that the concern he had seen in her eyes had once again rendered him speechless. It had touched him, and he had wanted to believe that she cared, that his pain had touched her as well.
Her eyes had been so kind and tender as she had looked up at him, her warm hand brushing over his skin as she had seen to his wound. His body had responded instantly, and his heart had hammered in his chest wildly, urging him to finally address her. Would it truly be worse to have her reject him? To know with certainty that she did not care? Or was the sliver of hope he clung to something he needed in order to survive?
Ready to put his heart on the line, Finn had let down his defences, knowing that he could not live with uncertainty for the rest of his life…when Vaughn’s voice had shattered all his hopes.
Anger had curled around his heart in an instant, and his defences had come back up. More than once he had seen Vaughn smile at Emma, and every now and then, she had even smiled back at him.
Upon seeing it, Finn had almost doubled over in pain, and it had been in that moment that he had realised he had indeed lost his heart to her.
Absolutely and irrevocably.
“I need to leave,” Finn grumbled as he stomped through the snow with no regard for where he was headed. Not once had she smiled at him. “I need to go.”
“Finn? Is that ye?”
Stopping in his tracks, Finn turned toward Ian’s voice before his friend stepped out from behind a thicket, his gaze narrowing as he took in the scowl on Finn’s face. “What’s wrong?” His gaze darted to Finn’s wrapped hand. “Are ye hurt? I would’ve thought ye knew how to handle a saw.”
Finn scoffed, remembering that he had left it lying in the snow. “’Tis nothing.”
“’Tis not nothing.” Rolling his eyes, Ian heaved a deep sigh. “‘Tis Emma, is it not?”
Finn opened his mouth to object, but Ian waved him off. “D’ye know that Vaughn intends to ask for her hand?”
Shock barrelled into Finn like a charging boar. Although he had suspected−anyone would have−having it confirmed was a thousand times more agonising. “He d−?” He swallowed the lump in his throat as his injured hand suddenly ached painfully. “Why would I care?” The words fell from his lips to lie dead at his feet.
Ian heaved another deep sigh; annoyance and a hint of anger clear on his face. “It doesna matter why ye care, Finn. All that matters is that ye do. Ye care about her whether ye like it or not.” A growl rose from Ian’s throat, and his jaw clenched. “Ye make me so angry.”
“Why?” Finn asked, rather surprised by his friend’s emotional involvement in this matter. “What is it to ye?”
“Ye’re not being fair!” Ian snapped, his eyes narrowed as he approached. “What ye both are doing is not fair! Ye’re being selfish and…and fools on top of it.”
Never had Finn seen his friend lose his temper quite like this. Although Ian was known to have strong opinions and tended to argue with vehemence, the way he spoke to Finn now was different. It was as though the outcome of this personally affected him.
“What do ye mean?” Finn asked, wondering about the bitterness that had grown in his friend over the last few years. “She and I are nothing to each other. We−”
Ian laughed, but it
