Chapter Forty-six
Helmet“Colin?” Logan repeated. He sounded disappointed, and Hana frowned. She wondered what kind of name justified the fuss he’d caused, and her brain ran off on a mission to find one.
She got to Hank before someone snorted and repeated, “Colin?”
Logan tilted his body to glare at them. “Sort out the horses,” he barked. “Saddles and bridles off for now.” Two of the younger men shuffled from the kitchen with the slumped shoulders of regret.
Colin stepped back and sat in the chair, which Toby pushed towards the backs of his knees. He ran a shaking hand over his hair with extreme gentleness, as though keen not to disturb the fine tendrils disguising his baldness. A patterned weave circled his protruding wrists, evidence of the rope’s pressure against his skin.
Hana leane
