Free Loved By a Warrior by Donna Fletcher

realized the cold had seeped deep into her flesh. He moved a chair near the hearth, scooped her up, though she squeaked in protest, and sat her there to warm.
    â€œThere’s cider in the pitcher on the table,” Willow said. “Put it on the hearthstone and let it heat, then pour a tankard for each of yourselves.”
    Reeve did as Willow had directed, and in a few minutes, he and Tara were warming their innards with the tasty apple cider.
    â€œNow, are you finally going to introduce us?” Willow asked, almost finished with her grandda.
    Reeve shook his head for not having done it sooner. “This is Tara, she’ll be joining the MacAlpin clan.”
    â€œWelcome,” Willow said, her smile growing.
    â€œIt’s a good clan you join,” the old man said. “You’ll be safe, especially with Reeve at your side.”
    â€œWe are not together,” Reeve and Tara said in unison.
    Willow and the old man laughed.
    â€œWe’re friends,” Tara said, though she blushed.
    â€œThat’s how my Edward and I started,” Willow said with a hint of sadness. “We were friends first and fell in love along the way.”
    â€œGod bless my grandson’s soul,” Jacob said with a nod. “He’s gone two years now.”
    â€œI’m sorry for your loss,” Tara said.
    â€œEdward was a good friend and a good man,” Reeve added.
    â€œDied saving my life he did,” Willow said, turning away as a tear fell from her eye.
    Silence followed until finally Reeve spoke. “Jacob, you and Willow need to come to the village until the true king takes the throne.”
    Jacob waved away Reeve’s plea. “Who knows when that will be? I leave my farm, and it will go to rot, and I chance losing my land.”
    Reeve wished he could share what he knew with the old man, but he couldn’t. The plans that were being made had to remain secret, for the safety of many and for the success of the true king. If things continued as they were, it would be less than a year before the true king could possibly sit the throne. And as matters deteriorated for the present king, they would also worsen for the true king’s supporters. Meaning life could prove more dangerous for Jacob and Willow.
    â€œStay, and you could lose your life, you old, stubborn fool,” Willow said with more care than malice.
    Jacob pounded the table. “I won’t leave my land.”
    Willow shook her head and looked to Reeve. “I cannot leave him here on his own.”
    â€œI will talk with my brothers and see what can be done,” Reeve said.
    Willow drifted over to Tara, and Reeve moved out of her way, going to sit next to the old man and talk.
    Getting the boot off proved difficult, and Willow called out for Reeve’s help.
    â€œI can do it,” Tara said, persistent in her struggle with the boot.
    Reeve pushed her hands away and slipped his hand up her calf along the underside of the boot; his other hand took hold of her heel. Then he began to ease the boot back and forth gently, his hand following its descent down along her stocking-covered calf. After a few minutes of tugs and urgings, the boot slipped off with only a modicum of difficulty.
    He kept hold of her stocking-covered leg, staring at the area swollen twice its size. “No more walking for you,” he ordered, and before she could object, he explained. “One of the soldiers gladly left a horse.”
    Tara simply grinned, and Reeve gently released her ankle and returned to sit with Jacob.
    â€œReeve is a good man,” Willow said for their ears alone.
    â€œYes, I find him an honorable one,” Tara agreed, rolling her stocking down.
    â€œIt’s odd,” Willow said, “but you seem a good pair, familiar with each other, as though you belong together.”
    â€œThat’s foolish. We’ve only met.”
    â€œYet you appear more than friends,” Willow said,