Free Highland Grace by K. E. Saxon

He
sprinted over to her and yanked the sword from her grasp. He
examined it, running his fingers along the flat edge of the blade,
looking for nicks, she presumed.
    “I’m chopping a few more pieces of wood for
my cookfire,” she said innocently. “I hope you don’t mind, but I
couldn’t find the ax anywhere and I needed more to heat the fire.
I’m making berry tarts—your favorite!—and peat ruins their
taste.”
    His gaze settled on her middle. “You
shouldn’t be chopping wood,” he said, a note of concern in his
voice. “‘Tis too much exertion for your delicate condition.”
    “Oh, I’m quite used to such work, I assure
you. ‘Tis really not difficult at all, at least not with the right
tool.”
    * * *
    Bao gave his sword another quick examination.
Seeing no damage had been done to the blade, he looked again at the
chopped wood on the ground and a suspicion began to form. Was this
a bit of retribution on Jesslyn’s part? Since the blade was still
in the condition he’d last left it in, he assumed she only meant to
pique his anger. But she would be disappointed. For whatever she
demanded of him to get back in her good graces, he would do.
Handing her the sword, he said, “If you’ll show me that you can do
this without straining yourself or the babe, I shall not say
another word against it.” He cringed inside at the thought of her
damaging his weapon, but she was a much more precious prize to him
than his sword would ever be.
    Clearly confounded, she slowly grasped the
hilt in her hands and studied his face. A mischievous light came
into her cerulean blue gaze that told Bao that she was not finished
testing him. She turned and lifted the weapon over her head once
again and when she brought it down, she brought it down hard
against the wood, making a terrible splintering sound as the blade
entered the piece.
    Bao gritted his teeth, but managed to keep
from groaning aloud.
    She strained to pull it out, but could
not.
    With a long stride, Bao stepped up to the
chopping block and, taking hold of the hilt, released his sword
from its prison. With eyes focused away from the blade’s edge, he
handed the sword back to Jesslyn, saying, “‘Twas not quite hard
enough, sweet. You’ll need to put more force behind it next
time.”
    * * *
    A tremor ran down Jesslyn’s spine at the warm
timbre of Bao’s voice when he used that endearment for her. She
couldn’t bring herself to truly ruin Bao’s weapon. Not only because
of its value,—its worth was enough to keep them in luxury for a
year—but because it held meaning for Bao in other ways as well. She
took a close look at the blade’s edge, running her fingers along it
the way she’d seen Bao do moments before. Luckily, she’d put no
chips in it. But it did need a good polishing now, she could tell.
Biting her lip, she handed the weapon back to him. “I’ve changed my
mind. I find I’m too weary to do such work. I shall do as you said
and refrain from such activity until after my babe is born.”
    Bao nodded. “Good. And I hope that means you
will not do any other work that requires heavy lifting until our babe has arrived.”
    Jesslyn nodded and the ice around her heart
melted a little more. This was the Bao she’d known last summer. But
for how long? She still had no idea what she’d done to set him
against her—or, more precisely, what he’d believed she’d
done—and that alone sparked fear in her heart that he’d change
again without notice into the beast she’d wed over a fortnight
past. And what of his woodland lover? At one and the same time, she
wanted not to care and cared much more than she should.
    “Let us go back to the cottage and break our
fast. The babe is surely hungry by now,” he said. Jesslyn stiffened
but allowed Bao to settle her hand in the crook of his arm as they
walked the distance to her home.
    * * *
    Not long afterward, Bao sat at the table as
Jesslyn quietly prepared their meal. He reveled in her lithe