Page 12 of Highlander's Wild Lass
“I wouldnae tempt him with a fight again,” Anthony said, more serious than she ever heard him before. “After meetin’ Mr. Koll, I went back and looked at some of my father’s old daily diaries, and I saw his name a lot—well, his father’s name. His father used to have dealin’s with mine years ago and I never heard a good word spoken about the Koll family.”
Celestia hummed in agreement. “Well…still, I need to protect the family and the business’s good name if I want to keep it goin’ after my da is gone,” she said, picking at the fraying seam of her coat.
“Ye were serious about that? That’s respectable, lass,” he told her. “How do ye plan on doin’ that and runnin’ a house, takin’ care of yer brothers, sister, and the animals? While also rememberin’ to feed yerself? Yer all nearly skin and bones.”
“I can do it,” Celestia said stubbornly, shrugging her coat closer to her.
“Ye cannae do it alone. How would ye handle all of that? It’s too much for one person.”
“Once the twins are of age, they’ll take it over,” she told him, growing more frustrated as he spoke. Celestia felt the weight of his judgment and her own wavering belief in herself.
“The twins daenae come of age for a while, do ye think they’ll be ready to take on such a thing?”
“They’ll have to be.”
“Will ye let me help ye?” Anthony asked her, placing his hand over hers that was still frantically picking at the frayed seam.
Celestia enjoyed the warmth of his hand against the cool morning, the weight of it on hers was soothing in a way. If yesterday was any indication, she was cracking under all the pressure. Could she really take on her father’s business by herself too? And how would Anthony be able to help? He had the entire clan to worry about.
“How?”
Anthony shrugged. “I have men that could help run the business and teach the lads. But yer faither is still sound of mind. I think teachin’ them, and ye too, if ye do wish to take this on, would give him…purpose to his days.”
She nodded, thinking. It was a good idea, maybe it would perk her father up to get the business running again.
“Aye,” she said, pensively. “Keep yer men, I’ll ask my da first.”
She slipped her hand from under his, wrapping her hands around her legs as she pulled them into her chest. “What’s the sudden concern for my family?”
“Our families have always known each other. First our maithers when they were growin’ up, and then our faithers in their grief and whisky cups.”
“I’m aware of our parents’ connection, but I don’t really understand yer interest.”
“My interest…” he said, rubbing his hand against the day-old growth of his beard. He wondered for a moment if she forgot his teenage attempts to court her. “Well…to be honest, I cannae let a good family fall into ruin.”
“Ruin!?” she exclaimed, scoffing.
She stood up fast, stumbling to gain her footing. Anthony reached out and grabbed the crook of her arm to steady her.
“Let go of me,” she exhaled. She wrenched out of his grasp and jumped off the boulder. She left him on the cold rock just as the sun was over the mountains, lightening the sky to a pale blue.
Celestia wanted nothing more than to get back home, more determined than ever to take on the business while remaining on top of every single one of her responsibilities. She would never need anyone’s help.
“Celestia, wait!” Anthony jumped off the rock and followed swiftly after her. “I dinnae mean it like that!”
Celestia rushed to untie Grannus’ lead from the tree. She muttered under her breath, creating a knotted mess in her hurry.
Anthony stood beside her, watching her struggle with the knot. “I’d ask ye if ye need help, but I ken now that yer a prideful woman.”
Celestia cursed, tugging in vain at the tangled lead. “And I dinnae ken ye had such a low opinion of my family that we would easily fall into ruin once my faither is dead.”
“Good lord, woman, take a breath. I meant nay offense.”
“Every word out of yer mouth is an offense, Anthony Moore.”
“Ye wound me, lass.”
“Good!” she shouted. Celestia tried untangling the knot again, but it was unrelenting. She went to the pouch attached to Grannus’ saddle and pulled out a knife. If she couldn’t pull the knot apart, then she’d cut through it.
