Page 44 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Hunter’s steps quickened, his jaw tight with frustration, and Cassandra followed holding Elena's hand, an uneasy feeling stirring in her chest.
At the center of the commotion stood a woman draped in fine, dark fabrics, her striking beauty untouched by the dust of the road. Her golden hair, neatly pinned, framed a face Cassandra had never seen before but instinctively knew, because the woman looked like Elena. Her heart dropped to her stomach.
The moment Hunter laid eyes on her, his entire body went rigid, his expression darkening like a storm rolling over the hills. The woman’s gaze locked onto him, and without hesitation, she flung herself forward.
“Hunter!” she cried, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, me love, I’ve returned!”
Cassandra watched as Margaret threw herself against Hunter’s chest, clinging to him as if she’d never left. He stiffened, his arms remaining at his sides, his expression unreadable.
Around them, the murmurs of the gathered crowd grew louder, everyone bearing witness to the ghost of a woman they had all believed dead.
Cassandra’s stomach twisted as it was clear that this woman was indeed, Margaret, Hunter’s ex-wife, the mother of his child.
Margaret pulled back just enough to look up at him, her blue eyes shimmering with well-practiced tears.
“Please, forgive me,” she pleaded. “I cannae bear another day away from ye or our daughter.”
Before Hunter could respond, a small voice cried out in disbelief. “Mama?”
Cassandra turned just in time to see Elena rush forward, her little legs moving faster than Cassandra had seen since the girl was on the mend.
The girl flung herself into Margaret’s arms, her face pressed against her mother’s shoulder as she sobbed with joy.
“I kent ye’d come back,” Elena whispered, her small fingers clutching at Margaret’s dress as if afraid she might vanish again.
Margaret wrapped her arms around Elena with an ease that sent a sharp pang through Cassandra’s chest. “Aye, me sweet girl,” she cooed. “I went on a long, long journey, but I’ve returned to ye.”
Elena pulled back slightly, her bright eyes searching Margaret’s face. “But I thought ye went to heaven,” she said, confusion laced in her innocent voice.
Margaret smiled, smoothing a hand over Elena’s curls. “That’s what everyone thought, but they were wrong,” she said. “I was lost, but now I’m found.”
Cassandra felt the breath leave her lungs as she watched the scene unfold. She had never seen Elena look so joyful, so utterly whole. The girl who had once been timid and uncertain in her father’s presence was now glowing, clinging to the mother she had long thought dead.
It was as if Cassandra had become invisible, as if the moments she had shared with Hunter and Elena earlier that day had never happened.
Hunter finally found his voice, his tone hard and edged with anger.
“What game are ye playin’ at, Margaret?” he demanded.
Margaret let out a shaky breath, her lips trembling. “I made mistakes, Hunter,” she said, her voice breaking in all the right places. “But I’ve come back to make things right. Our daughter deserves her maither.”
Cassandra felt her fists tighten at her sides, jealousy twisting through her like a knife.
Margaret was beautiful, poised, and she knew exactly what to say to make Elena love her and to make Hunter hesitate. Cassandra had been fooling herself, thinking she belonged here, thinking she could ever be part of this family. Margaret had returned.
Elena turned to her father, her expression pleading. “Da, please,” she said. “She’s back! I have me mama again. We can be a family now, cannae we?”
Hunter looked down at his daughter, and for the first time since Cassandra had met him, uncertainty clouded his eyes. He had always been a man who stood firm, who never wavered in hisdecisions, but now, with his daughter looking up at him, he was lost.
Cassandra could see the battle raging within him—his anger at Margaret, his love for Elena, and the weight of the past pressing down on him.
Margaret seized the moment, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please, Hunter,” she murmured. “I ken I daenae deserve yer kindness, but I’m beggin’ ye. Let me stay.”
Cassandra took a step back, the lump in her throat growing. She felt like an outsider, like a foolish woman who had let herself believe she could be something more. Elena had her mother now, and Hunter… well, perhaps he had never been hers to begin with.
Margaret’s gaze finally shifted from Hunter and Elena, landing squarely on Cassandra. Her blue eyes raked over Cassandra’s simple garb, the scrutiny clear in her expression.
With a graceful tilt of her head, she asked, “And who might ye be?” Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying sharpness to it, as if she already deemed Cassandra unimportant.
