Cain had never felt such regret in all his life. What in bloody hell had made him ask Ella about her unique riding skills that morning? She stood upon her horse’s back as the beast broke into a canter, making her long braid swing across her straight back.

He’d ridden into more battles beside his brothers than he could remember, knowing that there was the slim possibility that one of them wouldn’t survive. But watching Ella stand, her knees bent slightly to take the roll of her horse’s gait, as she balanced on her specially made saddle, made his breath catch in his tight throat. Fists clenched at his sides, Cain watched for signs of unsteadiness. Someone stepped up next to him, but he didn’t take his eyes off her as she somehow signaled the horse to turn in a gentle arc to ride back.

“Impressive,” Joshua said, his usual sarcasm absent from the compliment.

Ella kept her balance while slowly pulling her bow around and nocking an arrow along the catgut. Cain couldn’t answer or look at his brother while he watched, frozen to the ground. For a moment, she aimed the arrow at him, but tipped it slightly to the side. Her arrow whizzed past him, embedding in the side of the barn at his back. She lowered the bow, a frown on her face, although the shot was very good. His arms came up on their own as if to catch her if she fell but then dropped helplessly back to his sides.

She slowed near them. “It gives me a higher vantage point.” Her breath came quickly. Still standing, she wiped her brow.

“It also gives the enemy a bigger target,” Cain said. “And if your horse spooks or wobbles, ye are dead.”

Her mild frown turned into a glare.

“Well, I think it is a hell of a good show,” Joshua said. “And if I saw ye in those tight leather trousers riding at me in battle, I would definitely lose my focus enough for ye to pierce my heart straight through.” He thumped a hand over his heart and smiled roguishly.

Damn. His brother could turn anything into a stroke of wit. No wonder he had lasses falling into his bed. Cain’s teeth clenched together until his jaw hurt.

Ella lowered into the seat, and Cain was able to draw a full breath. She secured her bow and quiver on special hooks worked into the back of the saddle. “I stand so that my men can see my signals clearly,” she said. “And if I need to fire at an advancing enemy, I am able.” She met Cain’s gaze. “It takes honed balance and skill, along with talent that is nearly impossible to imitate.”