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the waxed and shiny types. Leastwise not the ones I’ve met so far. I was going for rugged mountain man.” Again, her thoughts went, unbidden, to Roan. He was neither waxed nor shiny. In fact, he had hair in the exact right amount, in the exact right places. Damn the man and his perfect perfection.
    “Aye, Ranald is rugged, if by rugged you mean ‘has been covered by a rug.’”
    Tessa spurted a little laugh at that, even as her eyes widened. “Listen to you.”
    Kira’s cheeks grew pink and she glanced down, suddenly looking self-conscious. “I know it, I’m being evil. It’s no’ right of me.”
    “Actually, I was about to clap my hands together and say ‘finally!’ Welcome to the land of us normal mortals. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything that could be construed as less than kind and sweet. It’s downright annoying, that kind of karmic perfection.”
    “And a fat lo’ of good it did me, eh?” Kira quipped. To her credit, there was barely a flicker of pain behind the self-deprecating smile. But Tessa hadn’t missed it.
    She turned around in her chair and jutted out her chin toward Kira. “Go ahead,” she offered. “Pop me one. Right in the kisser. I deserve it, you know.”
    “What on earth are ye goin’ on about now?”
    “Punch me. Hit me. Whatever. Just inflict some pain and we’ll both feel loads better.”
    Kira looked properly horrified, and Tessa laughed. It was the closest she’d felt to normal in a very long time.
    “What’s funny about that?” Kira asked, looking more worried and concerned than since Tessa had shown up on her doorstep a week ago.
    “You haven’t changed so much after all. Don’t worry. But you can still hit me if the mood strikes.”
    Kira frowned and took up another piece of crunch. “I dinnae know what’s gotten into you, my closest, dearest friend,” she said as she munched, “but if you want me to pretend that I’m no’ aware there’s something deep and dark lurkin’ about in there—which I’m willin’ to do if it’ll help ye heal—then at least try not to act like a loon.”
    Tessa’s laughter subsided. Normal time was over. She opened her mouth, shut it again, then sighed. Heavily. “I’m not in the best place at the moment, you’re right about that. But I don’t want to—can’t—talk about it. I … I just needed to be away from some things for a bit.” And connected to other things … like her only family. “I’m certain I’ll work through things on my own.” That was an out and out lie. She was certain of no such thing. No such thing at all. But she didn’t want Kira to worry. More than she already was, anyway.
    Tessa stood up and walked over to her friend, tugging her arm free from where she’d wrapped it around her middle. “I wasn’t here for you, when things ended with Thomas,” she said, never more sober and serious. “And I hate that, more than you might ever believe. I’ve been such a lousy friend. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hurt for you, and wish I was a better person, a better friend. I don’t know how you’re really feeling. You seem good, you sound better than good. But I don’t truly know. So, I just want to say, I’m here now, and if you need anything, I’m willing. Whatever it is. Whatever helps.”
    “Weaving.”
    “What?”
    “Weaving. It helps. I think it healed me. Mostly, anyway.” Kira looked up and Tessa saw, for the first time, the toll of what the last eighteen months had taken on her sweet, gentle-natured friend.
    “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
    “I am, too.” Kira took a breath, regrouped, and squared her slender shoulders. “I came back here to hide, lick my wounds, feel sorry for myself. But instead, I found the thing I should never have left behind.”
    “The baskets?”
    Kira nodded. “I thought it was so sentimental and backward, marking me as some kind of uneducated Highlander. Outlander. You remember, when I came to London, how I was so enthralled