Hours later the blacksmith had finally finished his repairs and took the mended machinery part into the main house to install it. The furnace was loca...ted right at the far corner of the outer kitchen, which was adjoined to the farmers private kitchen. He crept in with his lantern (there were locks on the doors but they were seldom ever used on the farm) and got to work. He had just finished when he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen from inside the house. Afraid that it might be the. To be honest, I was feeling distinctly nervous and I think maybe Debbie was, too. Once Fergus had gone back to doing what he did best – ignoring the customers – and we were effectively alone, though, it became surprisingly easy. OK, so it wasn't the Great Conversation we both knew we needed to have – we actually talked mostly about the bar itself, its all too apparent origins as a sheep byre, the many, many climbing photographs on the walls, that sort of thing. But we talked, that was the. For minutes. No words. Just awkward silence. You notice small movement from her side. Your eyes open and you look at her. She is silently sobbing, her body moving the bed with each heartbreaking rush of tears. You turn towards her and wrap her into your loving arms. Your hands on her shoulders, fingers moving slowly. You kiss the top of her head and sigh.I toss and turn and finally decided to rest on my side, one arm curled under my face and the other draped down my side. But I can’t stay. It didn't matter. This gorgeous man had her in his arms and she was enchanted. One song after another played and the world outside seemed to disappear. Once again her mind wandered to images of Marcus, naked. The thoughts of running her fingers over his body like she ran them over the man in the magazine excited her. He was strong and handsome. Vision after intoxicating vision whirled in her mind. That chest. Those arms. Powerful legs. Touching. Stroking. Caressing. Yearning. And then she.