Thomas thanked her with a big hug before he and the pup bounced off, sharing the biscuits.
An old man hunched over from age shuffled into the cottage after Thomas left, and stopped when he spotted Artair. “Sorry, I thought when I saw Thomas leave that you were done. I will wait outside.”
Zia went immediately to his side, her arm going around his frail shoulder. “No, Charles, I can see you now. This is Artair. He is Ronan’s brother.”
“Good lad, Ronan,” Charles said as Zia guided him to a chair.
“You knew my brother?” Artair asked eagerly.
“I visited him from time to time. Smart and curious.”
“About what?” Artair asked.
“Just about anything, though he showed a lot of interest in bows.”
“Charles is Peter the bow maker’s father,” Zia said.
“You passed your skill on to your son,” Artair said.
Charles nodded. “And he’s made a better bow maker than me.”
“And Ronan was interested in bow making?” Artair asked.
“We spoke more about aim and accuracy. And how a skillful archer can hit his target even at distances thought impossible.”
The old man was hit with a coughing fit, and Zia shooed Artair outside, though not before Artair told the man they’d speak again.
Zia wasn’t surprised when almost an hour later Charles left the cottage and she saw Artair join the old man and follow alongside him talking. But then that was what he was there for, to find out all he could about his brother’s stay here. And many would have stories to share with him, for many had visited with Ronan.
However, she didn’t know if any would be helpful to Artair, at least not helpful in the sense of what he searched for. Their stories wouldn’t tell Artair where his brother went, but they would help him to better understand his brother and what he had gone through, and she wondered if he would realize that.
Several hours later Zia finished her duties and decided to dig up some woodland herbs to flavor that night’s fish. Bethane returned and suggested that she find Artair and ask him to help her.
“Matchmaking, Grandmother?” she asked teasingly.
Bethane grinned and placed a hand to her chest. “Me? Never!”
“You like him, don’t you?” Zia asked more seriously.
“From what I see of him, yes.”
“You see more than most.”
“I look deeper than most,” Bethane said. “But there is much on the surface of Artair that shows me he is a good man. Dig deeper and you will find even more sterling qualities.”
“Are you suggesting I dig deeper?”
She gave a wink. “Isn’t that what you’re about to do?”
Chapter 7
Artair walked through the village a bit surprised that so many had spoken with his brother. It was as if the whole village knew Ronan and had been concerned for him. Most commented on how worried he’d been over his brother Cavan, and how he missed his family. But he heard nothing that warranted Ronan’s sudden departure from the village.
The only sensible answer was that he had been anxious to return home. He thought of sending a message to Cavan, alerting him to the possibility, but decided against it. His family had been disappointed too many times by false leads. And at the moment he had the strange feeling that his brother was running, but from whom and to where? He would investigate more before he shared any opinions with his brothers.
Artair stopped, sensing Zia’s approach, then caught the familiar scent of her before hearing her footfalls. He shut his eyes and envisioned her. She’d be smiling; she always smiled. Even when she was tied to the stake bartering with him for her freedom, he had thought he detected a hint of a smile. And then there were her sparkling green eyes. Always alight with passion. Damn, but he found her appealing, and the more he got to know her, the more appealing she became.
If he felt so intense about her in such a short time, he could only imagine how he’d feel about her given time. And he had decided he wanted extra time to spend with her. How he’d manage that, he wasn’t certain, but he would.
He turned slowly and burst into a smile, his vision having taken solid form.
“I found you,” Zia said exuberantly.
“I didn’t know I was hiding.”
She laughed, stopped in front of him and rested her hand against his chest. “You can’t hide from me; I will always find you.”
He placed his hand over hers, the feel of her warm, soft flesh, tingling his own. “Why would I want to hide from you?”
She scrunched her face in thought and he almost laughed. She looked even more adorable to him. No matter what expression she wore, she remained a beautiful woman.