Something magical had happened in the fortnight since Logan and Helena had slipped away to the woods. Though November’s approach meant colder days and waning sunlight, the hut seemed filled with all the warmth and light of summer.

Ansel had been working the men to the bone, so most evenings Logan only had enough energy to stagger home, eat, and fall into an exhausted sleep before the fire. He hadn’t been able to steal away with Helena again. His body, even as drained as it was, reminded him of that lack whenever he saw her, or merely let his thoughts drift to her during the day.

Aye, he felt that spike of fierce desire on the evenings when he trudged into the hut and found her inside, smiling.

But occasionally, he’d arrive only to find that Helena and Mairin were out on one of their walks in the woods—an occurrence that was becoming a habit for the two of them. They normally returned soon after he did, breathless and rosy-cheeked from the cold.

Having Helena in his life gilded everything in golden light. Even when he was bone-weary, sore, and in a foul mood from having to deal with Ansel and the others’ disdain, a simple look from Helena could wash it all away.

She should have moved out of his hut by now—she was completely recovered, and there were plenty of empty cottages she could use. Yet he refused to suggest that she go, and she never mentioned it.

The other men were beginning to give him knowing looks, but they could all go to hell. He didn’t care what they thought. This was the Highlands, after all. A man and woman could let their hearts guide them without the foolish constraints of propriety muzzling their feelings.

He did, however, force himself to keep his desire in check within the hut, for Mairin was always nearby. Each night was a test of his will, for though Helena only slept a few arm lengths away, an ocean might as well have separated them for all that he could touch her.

Even with his restraint drawn to its limits and his longing for Helena ruling his thoughts, he could wait, for something else was expanding along with his desire—his heart. With each passing day, with each passing heartbeat, he grew more certain of what he felt. Caring, aye, but mayhap something even more.

Though the air held the sharp edge of frost as he trudged from the training field to his hut, that thought warmed his chest.

When he pulled open the door, he found the hut quiet and empty, the fire burning low. Helena and Mairin must be out again. He closed the door behind him, letting his thoughts drift as he set about building up the fire.

The change in Mairin over the last fortnight had been striking. Never had he seen her smile so much—never had he seen so much of her at all. She spent more time in the hut’s main room than her chamber now, and she moved about and spoke with an ease that Logan had once feared she’d never regain.

The nightmares were growing less frequent as well. That was a great boon, though Logan had noticed that Helena still moaned in distress every few nights in her sleep. She would not tell him what haunted her dreams, and he’d promised not to push her for answers, but he assumed whatever she’d fled from still chased her in her sleeping mind.

Setting aside Helena’s continued nightmares, the hut truly felt like a home for the first time. Mairin was at last coming out of her shell. Helena seemed genuinely happy as she settled into this new life. And Logan’s heart was growing with each passing day, leaving little room for dark memories or dwelling on the past.

Logan added extra wood to the fire in anticipation of Helena and Mairin’s return. Winter had begun to nip at autumn’s heels, and the lasses would no doubt be cold when they got back from their walk. By the time the flames danced cheerily and the hut was comfortably warm, though, they still hadn’t returned.

He pulled back the shutters on the hut’s single window. Twilight had already fallen and was swiftly darkening to night.

Though he didn’t want to intrude on their time—for whatever Helena was doing, it was working wonders with Mairin—they shouldn’t linger in the woods after dark. He didn’t fear the actions of men so close to the Corps’ camp, but wild animals were a different matter.

Shrugging into his cloak, he stepped outside and set off, hoping to catch them on their way back to the hut. He cut southwest, toward where he’d first found Helena. He’d seen them returning from that direction before, and since Helena wasn’t as familiar with these woods, she’d likely go back to the areas she knew.

A chilly breeze made the branches overhead sway and groan. The nigh-full moon was mostly blocked by clouds, but silvery light lit his path well enough.

Though naught appeared amiss around him, Logan’s senses pricked with awareness. He swept his gaze in wide circles as he strode, his ears primed for any noise that was out of place.

Just then, a muffled sound reached him. It wasn’t made from the swaying trees, nor had it sounded like an animal. Nay, it had been human.

On silent feet, Logan angled toward the noise. It came again, like a grunt of pain.

Fear surged hot in his veins.

“Step back.” Helena’s low, accented voice in the distance was unmistakable.

Logan broke into a sprint, his feet barely skimming the forest floor as he propelled himself through the shifting shadows.

Another sound of pain came—was that Mairin? Had one of them been hurt on their walk? Or had someone come upon them and attacked?

As Logan drew closer, he silently cursed himself for not bringing his long sword. Ansel hadn’t had them train with swords today, so Logan had left his blade in the trunk at the foot of his cot.

If only he had the throwing daggers strapped to his wrists. He would have been able to take out any attacker, even from a distance. But the daggers were tucked away, too, a remnant of his old life better left buried and forgotten.

At least he had a dirk in his boot. He only slowed enough to yank it free before rushing onward.

He rounded a large pine tree and skidded to a halt.

Though the tree cast a dark shadow, Helena and Mairin were easy to make out. They stood alone—locked in combat. Helena held Mairin’s wrist in a tight grip, but Mairin was in the process of stepping back and bringing her elbow down on Helena’s hand to break the hold.

“What the bloody hell are ye doing?” Logan barked.

Apparently unaware of his arrival, both women shrieked and whirled toward him.

“We are training,” Mairin blurted, recovering before Helena.

“What?” He tried not to shout, but fear still pumped hot in his blood and knotted his stomach.

“Helena is showing me how to defend myself,” Mairin went on, lifting her chin in a surprising display of stubbornness. Then again, she was a Mackenzie—it was only a matter of time before she started acting like a bullheaded fool.

Logan gritted his teeth for a moment to prevent from snapping something equally as obstinate.

“Is this what ye have been doing on yer ‘walks?’” he ground out at last.

Hesitantly, they both nodded.

“Alone. In the woods. Sometimes at nightfall.”

They exchanged a look and then turned back to him, nodding again.

He rounded on Helena, his barely-checked anger rising. “This is no’ what I wanted ye teaching my sister. I asked ye to help her feel normal, safe, no’ bring violence into her life yet again.”

Belatedly, he realized he’d just revealed his and Helena’s arrangement for his sister’s care in front of Mairin. His gaze shot to Mairin, but she didn’t so much as blink. She must have already known—which meant that Helena had told her, doubly going against his wishes.

“She is helping me,” Mairin retorted. “I like learning how to defend myself. Besides, I made her train me. If ye are going to be mad, be mad at me.”

Though his sister’s effort was valiant, it was misplaced. He’d entrusted Mairin’s care to Helena. She was Mairin’s senior by at least three or four years, and she always presented herself as a woman of good sense—she should have known better.

But more than that, he’d put his faith in her. Had he been wrong to open up to her so quickly—and to allow her into his family?

“It is time to return to the hut,” he bit out, tucking his dirk back into his boot.

“We didnae do aught wrong,” Mairin said, though she didn’t resist when Logan gently took her arm and began walking back to the camp.

“Ye and I will discuss this later,” he said to his sister. “Right now, I need to get ye back to the hut so I can speak with Helena. In private.”

He glanced over his shoulder to find Helena balking, her eyes round.

“Come,” he said curtly. When she still didn’t move, he sighed. “Ye dinnae need to fear me, but ye do need to answer some questions.”

Reluctantly, she fell in beside him and he marched them back the way he’d come.

When they reached the hut, he motioned Mairin inside.

“Eat and see yerself to bed, please,” he said tightly. “But dinnae leave the hut. I expect ye’ll be asleep by the time Helena and I return.”

Some of Mairin’s bluster had drained away on the walk back to the hut. She nodded solemnly at him and went inside, giving Helena a weak smile before shutting the door.

Without a word, Logan guided Helena to the stream, ensuring that the hut was still visible through the thin trees but that their voices wouldn’t carry over the sound of rushing water.

“Now,” he said, rounding on her, “explain yerself.”