“Obviously not.” Divana stood and began shoving the remains of their meal into the satchel. “Ye nay need anyone, do ye?”

“What have I said to make you so upset?”

She threw the blasted bag at him. “If ye do not ken, then ye are as daft as a cock with his head cut off!”

She marched to her horse and untied the reins from the tree.

“Wait.” Kennan wadded up the blanket. “I’ll help you mount.”

No! The last thing she wanted was for him to come near—to put his hands on her once again. Divana led the pony to a fallen tree and climbed up. Slipping her foot in the stirrup, she hoisted herself into the saddle and slipped her knee over the upper pommel.

“Ye see? I can do it meself.”

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

As time passed, Kennan’s unrest grew. Though, with every new day, he gained mobility in his left arm. He spent most of his time working to regain his strength, stretching and running. He chopped wood with the lads and spent afternoons in the smithy shack swinging a heavy hammer, molding red-hot iron into hooks and stirrups and horseshoes.

Today he carried his sword out to the practice field, which also was used for clan gatherings. He headed for a sparring post, but movement at the far end by the shooting targets caught his eye.

Divana.

After their riding lesson, she’d returned to her duties of the household and steered clear of him. And Mistress Barton had promoted her to Cook’s assistant, which Kennan had nothing to do with. Indeed, the lass earned the promotion on her own. Of course, he missed their daily interactions, though he’d done nothing to seek her out. He was a damned heel in so many ways.

She was right to push him away. The lass could never be serious about traveling with him. The ship of a privateer was no place for a lady, even a woman as independent and robust as Divana. Though, in truth, she might be heartier than a few sailors he knew. Still, a woman aboard was never advisable among a crew of randy men, especially when at sea for months at a time. No matter how much he’d enjoy her company, he could not allow it.

He watched as she loaded her slingshot and whipped it above her head three times. Lunging forward with a graceful release, she held her pose while the rock smashed into the bull’s-eye of the straw target.

Kennan chuckled to himself. He probably didn’t know one other person in all of Scotland able to wield a slingshot as accurately as Divana Campbell.

Bloody oath, I envy the man who wins that woman’s heart.

The thought brought a scowl to his lips.