“Mattie watched him cross the clearing with long-limbed ease, his movements loose and calm. His hair shone in the sunlight. Her heart caught. Strider.Yes, she loved him. It wasn’t logical or sensible or anything of those other things. He was not the kind of man she’d daydreamed about all of her life, safe and stolid and dependable, but he was the one. The One.”

“Fire's tears were real now, and there was no helping them, for there was no time. Everything was moving too fast. She crossed the room to him, put her arms around him, clung to him, turning her face to the side, learning all at once that it was awkward to show a person all of one's love when one's nose was broken.His arms came around her tightly, his breath short and hard against her hair. He held on to the silk of her hair and she pressed herself against him until her panic calmed to something desperate, but bearable.Yes, she thought to him, understanding now what he'd been about to ask. If you die in the war, I'll keep Hanna in my heart. I promise I won't leave her.”

“Logan ran a hand through his hair as he tried to calm his racing heart. He wanted her on the most basic level that a man could want a woman, but it was so much more than that. It wasn’t just about sex and the need to be inside her so badly it hurt—it was all the other stuff to. The need to matter. The need to be selfless. The need to love.”

“She wasn’t crying at all. This was what scared him the most. Where had she locked up the things he’d seen her feeling that day when she heard? She wasn’t that big a girl to hold all of it—to hold her brother’s life and his death inside of her. To hold all his long-limbed raging tidal motion and all the loss of that.”

“It was a lie, of course, and she was prepared to confess it to her priest. But she’d be damned if she’d tell him she’d been playing with his music.Her pride was worth the penance.He felt a quiver in his heart that he took for sympathy. “There, Brenna darling. Have you gone and fallen in love on me?”She jerked, whirled, gaped at him. He was watching her with such—such bloody affection, such patience and sympathy. She could have beaten him black and blue. Instead, she just shoved clear of him and snatched up her toolbox. “Shawn Gallagher, you are truly a great idiot of a man.”With her nose in the air and her tools clanking, she stalked out.He only shook his head, then went back to his cleaning up. With that little quiver around his heart again, he wondered who it was that O’Toole had set her sights on.Whoever, Shawn thought, slamming a cupboard door just a little too forcefully, the man had better be worthy of her.”

“He sounded flustered. Juliette watched him busy about the stove, his movements jerky and manic, and realized she was the one cloistered away and ignorant, not him. He had all these books, decades of reading history, the company of ancestors she could only imagine. What did she have as her experience? A life in a dark hole with thousands of fellow, ignorant savages? She tried to remember this as she watched him dig a finger in his ear and then inspect his fingernail.”