He'd been gaping. Had he truly fallen apart like that so swiftly? More than he already had on the road? For only a moment more, Sam worried he'd hit a truly low point but she put an end to it--even if only for a little while. there was something strangely comforting about the realization that he'd already been there and Caoimhe had already reached for him, earnest in how she offered him peace.

Her hands, covering his. She was so much smaller than he was and there was still a promise of protection. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he was completely smitten. A nymph, a fairy or an angel? From where had this woman come from that she could spare him his own breath while stealing it away?

Clearing his throat, he straightened his back and put his hand over Caoimhe's, gently, to assure he that he'd recovered his wits. A nervous, casual attempt at flattery came next as he reminded himself that there was nothing truly given in the world. The sight of the the rings on her hand lent to a moment's paranoia and he felt the weight of defeat on his shoulders. Hells, why would he assume he had a chance to be friendly when she'd met him in rags and filth?

"No, perish the thought, I should be more careful. If I'm overly familiar, it'd make your husband upset, wouldn't it?"