The boys slapped at one another’s backs, chests puffed and proud. Their eyes were already glassy from swigs of the whiskey Greer could hear jostling within hidden flasks.
Ellis was not with them.
Lachlan’s eyes roamed over the barnyard, intent and assessing. Greer ducked behind one of the thick posts supporting the weight of the loft, but not quickly enough. She wanted to groan as she heard his footsteps.
As Hessel Mackenzie’s only child, she knew many had set their sights upon her, hungering after the comforts and wealth the mill brought in and willing to overlook her peculiarities to get them. Over the summer, grand gestures of intent had been made: bouquets of flowers, parcels of ribbons, little gifts of needles and thread, her favorite sweets from the general store.
Greer had refused them all.
“Good evening, Greer Mackenzie,” a voice called out, toying and teasing. “You’re looking most lovely tonight.”
“Oh, Lachlan,” she said, turning to face him. “I was just…I was just admiring the new barn. It’s a marvel, isn’t it?” Her voice felt too high. It was obvious she’d been trying to avoid him.
Lachlan peered up at the rafters appreciatively. “Ours will be better.”
“Ours?” she echoed, recoiling at his audacity.
A swoop of dark hair fell over his brow as his eyes landed on her. “Oh yes. It will need to be bigger than this one. Much bigger. I have so many plans.”
“For…a barn?”
“And us,” Lachlan added, nodding. His lips turned up and Greer couldn’t shake the image of a marten, moving in for the kill. “Never in all my life have I so longed for a summer to end,” he admitted. “But it’s nearly over. Come first snow, we’ll be tucked away in a little cabin of our own.”
“A little cabin with an enormous barn,” she clarified, deadpan.
He beamed.
“You truly think you’re going to catch me, Lachlan Davis?”
He took a step forward, his confidence easy and unearned. “I know I will.”
Greer’s gaze drifted toward the open doors, where Hessel stood with a group of Stewards. She could hear Ayaan recounting the negotiations with the merchant captain, but her father’s focus was fixed squarely upon her. And Lachlan. And the pair they made.
“I spoke with your father at some length today.” Lachlan adjusted the angle of his body as though to include Hessel within their conversation, but also using the movement to shift closer to Greer. She could feel the heat of his breath linger in the hollow of her throat. “Did he mention it?”
She shrugged lightly. “He talks about so many young men these days, it’s impossible to keep track.”
Lachlan blinked, taken aback, before breaking into a snort of amusement. “You’re in jest! Good. A wife who can make you laugh will make for a happy home.”
He took her hand in his, fumbling around the bulk of woolen mitten. Greer felt the weight of an audience upon her and scanned the barn. There, on the other side of the room, a group of girls studied Lachlan’s grasp with unchecked interest, their lips thin with resentment.
She knew Lachlan was considered the best catch of the Hunt, the boy every girl hoped would follow after her with fixed determination.
Almost every girl,Greer thought, squirming free of his brazen touch.
“Have you been practicing?” she asked.
Intrigued, he raised his eyebrows. “Practicing?”
“For the Hunt.”
His smile was indulgent. “I’ve been hunting my whole life. Tracking you won’t be too different, Greer Mackenzie.”
The truth of his statement left a puddle of unease pooling within her, but she pushed past it. “Then let’s try it. Right now.”
Lachlan glanced about the barn. For the first time that evening, he looked apprehensive, unsure of his footing. “You want…you want me to hunt you…here?”
Greer nodded as if she was proposing nothing more than a mischievous dare. “On the day of the Hunt, the girls have one half-hour to hide. Give me five minutes tonight.”
