Page 16 of The Mad Highlander
Hunter stopped in his tracks and let out a long whistle. “How the devil did yer maither finally talk ye into doing that?”
“It wasnae me maither; Laird McCabe needed to strike a deal, and he turned to me for help, of course. He needed a fight, and he was too weak to bring a fight by himself. I was his best option, and I asked for somethin’ in return. A good way to kill two birds with one stone: I get a wife,andI get a reason to fight the Murdochs.”
“Ye get exactly what ye want, but why the long face?’ Hunter picked a spot beside him on the bench and took a seat. “Is the lass nae bonny?” He made himself comfortable with one arm flung over the back of the stone bench.
“She’s bonny alright, bonny an’ stubborn,” Cayden grumbled and shook his head.
Hunter threw back his head and laughed from the pit of his stomach. “I take it the lass is fiery? Even if she is, I cannae see what the problem is; surely ye can tame her?”
Cayden almost scoffed at the idea of taming Iris. Even if he had wanted to do anything of the sort, a feat like that would involve spending more time with her, something which he intended to avoid at all costs. “I lost control and almost kissed her,” he admitted begrudgingly to his friend.
“Is that nae a good thing?” Hunter seemed to sober up, searching Cayden’s face.
Cayden gave his friend a wan look. “Nae if I lose control; ye ken very well what can happen if I do.”
“Nae with a lass, ye’ve never lost control with a lass. I dinnae think it would be the worst thing in the world if ye allowed the lass in. Ye may even get a better hold on yer temper if ye did.”
Shaking his head, Cayden looked off into the distance. “Naebody can change me, Hunter, nae even a lass as bonny as Iris.”
“I think it is about time for ye to move on, Cayden. Allow yerself to be happy. ’Tis nae yer fault,” Hunter said gently.
Cayden’s eyes flashed with anger as he turned to face Hunter. “Nae me fault?” he snapped. “I should have protected them. I should have been there.”
Hunter sighed and placed his hand on Cayden’s shoulder, his voice filled with concern. “Ye couldnae have kent what would happen. Ye were just a bairn, nae a god.”
Cayden’s fists clenched, turning his knuckles white. “I am nae right in me mind, Hunter,” he admitted, his voice a harsh whisper. “I could hurt her. I could hurt anybody if I lost control.”
“Then why did ye agree to marry her?”
“Because it is me duty to the clan as laird, and I am nae one to shy away from me duty. I ken I have made some mistakes, and I ken I will make mistakes again, but a guid man keeps movin’ forward. Everythin’ I do is for our betterment, and I will never lose that.”
Hunter gave Cayden’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze before lowering his hand. “I ken yer fears, me friend, but ye cannae let them control ye forever. Ye deserve to be happy.”
“Happy?” Cayden scoffed. “How can I be happy when all I see are their faces an’ their blood on me hands?” He lifted his hands and examined them as if the stains were still there.
Hunter’s face tightened, his voice firm. “Ye are nae yer faither, Cayden. Ye are nae responsible for his actions. Ye have the power to walk a different path. So what is stopping ye?”
Cayden said nothing.
Hunter was a load of unwavering support for his friend. “Ye just have to conquer it, Cayden. Stop letting the auld lang syne haunt ye. Ye didnae murder them. At this point, I am feelin’ ye have to search yerself ’afore ye can heal.”
“Enough of this.” Cayden stared off into the distance as he rubbed his hands together, unconsciously trying to remove the non-existent stains. The council would have gathered already, and he wasn’t nearly prepared to face them, yet he knew it would have to be done whether he was ready or not.
“The men are here already. Should I tell them to come back later?” Hunter asked after a brief pause.
“Nay,” Cayden said. “It has to go ahead. I called for it, remember? And there is nae time to waste. Will ye leave?”
“Leave? I’ll be right behind ye,” Hunter replied and patted Cayden’s arm as they both stood. “Nae matter what happens, I shall be at yer side every step of the way.”
Members of the council gathered around a large oak table; their voices were filled with urgency as they shouted back and forth. The topic of discussion was the Murdochs, a powerful family with a dark history.
One of the larger men of the bunch stood, his pudgy belly sagging as he placed his fists on the table and addressed the men. His beady black eyes were almost unnoticeable on his large face which mainly consisted of a crooked nose and an overgrown black beard. “Me Laird,” he acknowledged Cayden then turned to the rest. “Why are we even talking about the Murdochs again? We shouldnae; this matter has been settled for years. Opening old wounds willnae do anyone any good.”
“Ye ken why we are talking about the Murdochs, Duncan,” Cayden interjected. “A young man has been kidnapped.”
“Who has naething to do with our clan? Why should we care if he has been taken; perhaps the lad should have been wiser.” Duncan looked around the room for support.
Half of the men murmured as the turned to one another and nodded while the other half began to quarrel again.
