“Fine, then,” she said, shoving the saddle toward him. He accepted the burden and, with a significant look at her, set it on the horse’s back. “I ken ye’re mad at me. Ye dinna understand, and it makes ye angry. But even if I explained it all ta ye, ‘twould make no difference. Ye’d still be angry.” He finished tightening a strap then faced her. “Ye’ve already decided what ye think of me, and persuadin’ a person of somethin’ they’re set against believin’ is a battle lost before it ever begins.”
