Page 56 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“I ken. But I want to. I think…ye probably saved me life.”
He turned on his side to prop his head on his hand, looking at her with curiosity.
“Ye must have thought it,” she said, glancing over. “If ye had let me run back to the castle, those men would have found me. Or Cohen would have taken care of me himself. Bringing me here saved me life.”
They looked at each other, weighing thewhat ifsof that situation. Sometimes it felt like years ago that Feya had stumbled out of the woods screaming for help. Other times, it felt like only yesterday.
“So, thank ye,” she said.
Archer nodded, an unspoken thank you of his own on his tongue. He wanted to tell her she had healed something inside of him. Or, at least, had started to. But he found it too hard to form the words.
“I wonder how tall the twins will be,” Feya said. She flipped onto her back again, her curls falling around her shoulders. She had worn her hair partly down today, only part of it pulled back into her usual braid. Archer fixed his eyes on the shine of her curls, on the swoop of her nose as he looked at her in profile.
“They’ll be pleased to see ye,” Archer said. He hoped his voice didn’t sound strained, that she couldn’t pick up on the difficulty he had in talking about this.
“Aye, but I wonder if they’ll still need me. Will any of them? I’ve been gone so long, perhaps they’ve grown to take care of themselves.”
He reached over and captured her hand, squeezing it in his own.
“They’ll still need ye,” he assured her, catching her eyes as Feya dropped her face toward his. “No matter how old they get, they’ll always need their sister. After all, it sounds like ye practically raised them.”
“Me and Morgana,” she nodded. She grew quiet, and they both stared at the sky again, their hands still touching. Then, her voice tentative, she said, “I envy ye for the time ye had with your faither. He sounds like a very special man.”
Archer tensed, his father’s face floating into his mind. But when he pictured his father, he didn’t hear the oppressive sounds of war in his ears. He didn’t remember the pain of swords and steel. Instead, he had an image of himself as a child, splashing in this very pond, his father holding his stomach as he taught him to swim.
“He was a good faither,” Archer agreed. “I lost my mother when I was so young, and Ayla never even kenned her. So, our faither was mother and faither. He never made us feel like a part of our family was missing.”
Feya squeezed his hand, and it was the encouragement he needed to keep going.
“He let us run wild all through these woods, always there to patch us up when he came back with bruises and cuts. But he also taught us the importance of education. He encouraged Ayla to keep learning—always said that we needed her sharp mind to keep me on my toes. The man certainly kenned how to motivate me.”
“The villagers loved him,” Feya offered. “Some of them still speak of him when Ayla and I visit.”
It made him glad to know the people of Clan Dougal still thought of their old Laird fondly. But it also made Archer question if he could ever be the Laird that his father was.
“Tell me something,” she said. A cloud floated across the sun, darkening their quiet oasis. “Tell me about the day he died.”
“Nay,” he said.
Archer rolled over and sat up, clearly upset by the question.
“Ye daenae want to hear that.”
“I do,” she said, sitting up herself. She reached for the hand he had just pulled away and took it into her lap. “It’s good for ye to talk about it. It’s the only way ye can heal.”
He regarded her for a moment, looking far too serious, but then a smile crossed his face.
“Is this the treatment ye promised? I have to say, I like kissing a whole lot better.”
“Enough of that,” she scolded. “I willnae let ye distract me.”
“Are ye sure?” He flipped his hand and ran a finger up her wrist, sending a shiver up her spine. Feya pulled her hands away and looked at him with impatience.
“Tell me what happened.”
Archer sighed and leaned back, this time resting on his elbows.
“It was a hard-fought war,” he started. “It had already stretched out months longer than we anticipated. People around me faither started to speak of surrender, but he wouldnae hear of it. He said he would never let his clan go to another Laird while he still had breath in his body.
