my eyes might’ve been bigger than my stomach.”
Katherine flicked a glance at the overfilled platter. “I see that.”
As she settled onto the wooden stool, Hale reached for one of the pastries. Tearing it in half, he offered one portion to Claire, who took the treat with a coo of delight, before popping the other fully into his mouth.
Katherine blamed her exhaustion for not realizing she was staring when he lifted a mug and drank healthily of its contents before meeting her gaze over the rim. A flush warmed her at being caught behaving so rudely. But he didn’t seem concerned by her staring. Instead, he scraped his stool back over the stone floor and rose to his feet.
“Something to drink?” he asked as he glanced at the cupboard behind him. “No fine wine, I’m afraid, but there’s ale aplenty.”
“I can find something,” she said quickly, preparing to rise herself. “There’s no need for you to serve me, Mr. Hale.”
“Sit, dove.” His voice was stern, but the command was followed by an easy grin. “I’m already up.”
Sinking back onto the stool, she conceded. “Whatever is easiest will do.”
“Ale it is, then.”
Grasping a metal pitcher, he poured a healthy dose of ale into a mug. After setting the pitcher and the mug on the table, he reclaimed his seat. Then they stared at each other as Claire quietly licked the sugared glaze from her pastry and an awkward silence filled the room.
She shouldn’t have sat down. She should have turned and left the kitchen as soon as she’d noted him there with his daughter. The house was too quiet around them. The room too dark under the flickering flames of only two candles. The night was simply too...intimate.
Then again, it was always like this when she was near him. Breathless one moment, heart racing the next. Always on the edge of her seat, uncertain of her balance and her position.
Finally, he broke the tension with a low sound before turning his attention back to the food. Without hesitation he chose a piece of ham and brought it to his mouth with his fingers. Noting her regard, he gave a wink. “I reckon there’s no need to break out the silver.” Then he placed the morsel on his tongue before closing his mouth around it.
Momentarily distracted by the way his jaw muscles flexed and released as he chewed, she cleared her throat. Smiling at Claire, she reached for a honey-coated bun. “No, I suppose not.”
His approving grin made her belly flutter, but she ignored it to direct her focus toward the food rather than the man across from her. For being a cold meal of leftovers, it was wonderfully satisfying. And the ale was a perfect accompaniment. She’d enjoyed ale a few times before, during village festivals and once at the wedding of the local blacksmith. But tonight, the drink seemed exceptionally potent as it warmed her bones and softened her spine. Though it didn’t quite dispel all the tension she’d been carrying, it was a lovely feeling.
A soft sound drew her attention to Claire. Having finished her pastry and a small glass of milk, the two-year-old sat with her legs tucked up beneath the ruffled hem of her nightgown, as she rubbed at her eyes once again.
“Someone’s awful sleepy,” Hale noted in a low voice, but the girl quickly lowered her hands and pouted in protest.
“No sweepy.”
Turning away from her father in an unexpected show of defiance, Claire slid across the table and stretched her pudgy, sugar-coated hands toward Katherine, who did not hesitate to take the girl in her arms as an odd ache expanded in her chest. Within moments, Claire was settled comfortably in her lap. Pale curls rested against her shoulder as the toddler’s chubby little fingers plucked at the ribbon decorating Katherine’s gown.
Surprised and quietly charmed by the girl’s unexpected demonstration of trust, Katherine wrapped her arms around her soft, warm body and gave a gentle squeeze. Looking up, she smiled apologetically. “Sorry. If you want to take her upstairs, I can—”
“No,” he interrupted in a quiet but stern voice, his attention focused on Claire, who had started breathing in a heavy rhythm as her fussing began to slow. “There’s no rush.” His gaze flicked up to hers. “Unless, you’d rather not—”
“No,” she answered quickly, smoothing her hand in slow circles over Claire’s back. “She can stay.”
He grunted softly before turning to lift the pitcher of ale. “In that case, would you like another pour?”
Katherine hesitated for only