Page 16 of Much Ado About a Scot

“My whole life.” She stacked twelve bundles together so they were standing upright before moving farther down the row. “I can remember toddling through the fields while my parents worked. I’ve been harvesting the grain since I was old enough to tie a knot. Jamie will be ready to help next year.” Her smile faded. “If I don’t lose everything.”

She could feel Xander’s gaze upon her, but he said nothing more. He didn’t speak again until they finished tying all the grain in the rows they’d cut. “What’s next?”

Isobel looked up to see Freya holding Jamie’s hand as she headed toward them. Freya’s son, Brodie, followed behind, carrying a large basket. “We’ll take a break and eat.”

When her son saw her, Jamie raced across the field. His dark brown hair tousled about his face as he gave her a toothy smile. “Freya let me help her cook.”

Isobel caught the small boy in her arms and twirled him about. “Then I’m sure it will be extra delicious.” Exuberant giggles erupted from the boy as she returned him to the ground.

Over the next half hour, the five of them enjoyed a light meal of meat pies and ale, with thick wedges of cheese and bread. When they finished, Freya packed everything up and carted it back to the house along with Jamie. Brodie stayed behind to help them with the harvesting.

Isobel gave Brodie her scythe so the two men could cut while she gathered the stalks into bundles. Hours passed as they finished off the first half of the rye field at the front of the house then headed to the second half that bordered the Graham estate.

As they worked, Xander’s gaze strayed to hers time and again, forcing her to glance back at the stooks she tied and stacked. Only when she knew Xander wasn’t looking at her did she allow her gaze to linger on the tanned flesh of his chest and shoulders. As he twisted with the rhythm of swinging the scythe, the muscles of his flat stomach rippled and pulled with every movement. Warmth that had nothing to do with the laborious task before her pooled in her belly.

What was she doing? Isobel looked away. She should ignore him and keep on working. And just as the thought formed, slowly, helplessly, she gazed across the field once more.

He turned to look at her, and the smile in his eyes was so bright it burst through Isobel, sending shivers of pure desire running down her spine.

She liked seeing him like this. Raw, and earthy, and male. Neither of her husbands had been like that. Rory was a farmer, but he did not possess the rock-hard and sinewy body that tempted her with every breath. And Ezra had been so prim and proper—an intellectual, or so she had thought.

Xander’s dark eyes caught and held her.

A breeze stirred, touching her face and throat, pressing the linen of her dress against her breasts, sending spirals of yearning to curl in her stomach. Quickly, she pulled her attention back to gathering more stalks, yet every muscle in her body was rigid with tension. She balled her fingers into fists, blocking the sensations that rocked her. She was lonely. That was why she reacted to Xander’s presence in such a way.

She needed to keep moving, keep tying the stalks, and keep far away from his penetrating eyes. What she wanted, what she needed was all around her, and had nothing to do with a man. She relaxed her fists and gathered another bundle of stalks and tied them before moving on to another.

What she wanted was a successful farm and domestic harmony. Both had escaped her thus far. She looked back to Xander to find him gazing at her. His dark eyes swirled with banked emotion. Her pulse raced.

She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that because, against her better judgment, Isobel was intrigued. And that surprised and alarmed her. She should have learned by now to keep her emotions in check where men were concerned.

Restlessly, Isobel rolled her neck, the movement releasing some of the tension in her body.

“When will you acknowledge the futility of your efforts?” A familiar voice came from behind her. Isobel twisted around to see the most intimidating man she’d ever met.

David Graham was big. He was at least six feet tall with massive shoulders, and a deep chest. His cheekbones were broad, balancing out his large nose and mouth, and his eyebrows were slashed above eyes that were a dark gray bordering on black. Gray threaded his black hair at his temples, making him look older than his forty-something years. There were never any laugh lines around his mouth or eyes, which should have clued her in early on about his temperament.

Isobel stood, trying to conceal her sudden fear. Graham appearing in her fields could mean nothing good. “What do you want?”

“To put an end to your struggle. If you stop this foolishness now, I will buy your land from you.” His lips thinned, making him appear even more of a threat. “If we wait until the harvest fails, then I will simply take possession of what is mine.”

Isobel propped her hands on her hips, refusing to let him intimidate her as he had tried to do since the day her parents died. “This estate is not yours yet. Get off my land and stay out of my business.” Isobel stepped back and motioned toward the treeline separating the two properties. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Xander striding toward her, scythe in hand.

“Is everything all right, Isobel?”

David Graham might be big, but Xander was tall, lean, and muscular. He stopped before Graham, and met the older man’s hardened gaze with a steely one of his own. “Laird Graham is not welcome here. He was just leaving.”

“I must say you are getting much more proficient in hiring help. This one actually looks like he can do the work,” Graham said, sizing Xander up. “Whatever she is paying you for the harvest, I’ll pay you double if you come and work for me instead.”

Isobel could feel hot color rise in her cheeks. “This man is not hired help. He is my husband.”

David Graham flinched at her words. “You married again?”

“Aye. She’s married,” Xander drawled in a Scottish brogue that was far more pronounced than usual as he stepped closer and broadened his stance, making himself not only appear larger but far more intimidating than David Graham. She’d not seen this side of her husband yet—dark and dangerous—but he was that and so much more in this moment.

“You think another husband will solve all your problems?” Graham took two steps back.

Xander narrowed his gaze on her neighbor. “It’s her damn business what she does or doesn’t do with her land and her husband.”