“Who is this?” he demanded. Kaden glared. “A very stupid sot. A smitten farmhand who rode a long way for nothing.” My thoughts tumbled. How? Rafe got to his feet. He looked at me without acknowledging Kaden. He surveyed my filthy bandaged fingers, my torn shirt exposing my shoulder, my bloodstained clothes, and certainly the grief that still lingered in my face. His eyes searched mine, questioning me silently, and I saw his worry that I had been harmed in ways that he couldn’t see. I saw that he had ached for me as much as I had for him.
