Page 8 of Highland Yule
“Nay, not overly much.” He shook his head. “’Tis just a minor hindrance that affects my gait.”
“What of when ye battle?”
“I havenae had to battle much.” He was not about to tell her it tended to seize up upon overexertion and hurt quite badly. “But when I fought to save ye, it served me just fine.”
In pain or not, he could have been down a few limbs and still found a way to slay any who dared harm her.
“Had I the gift of foresight, I never would have traveled at such a time and put ye in harm's way.” A frown tugged at her mouth. “For that matter, I was foolish to have asked my kin to bring me all this way, to begin with.” She shook her head. “’Twas verra foolish. I see that now.”
Itwasfoolish, but he was never more grateful.
“Ye’re here now and safe,” he replied. “That is all that matters, lass.”
“Aye.” She looked to the window, her gaze a little lost. “Might I confess something, though?”
“Aye, anything.”
“I didnae want to be here,” she murmured. “I dreaded ever stepping foot in this castle again.”
“I ken, lass.” He truly did. “I felt the same way when I returned.”
“I imagine ye did.” Her sad gaze went to him. “Yet I think my homecoming is far better than yers. At least I’ve ye to greet me not the misery of a castle freshly haunted by loss.”
It had undoubtedly been that. Laughter no longer rang through the halls. Wee bairns no longer played. He had left one clan and returned to another. Things had gradually improved over the past year as more clansmen returned from battle, but it would take time to get back to what they once were.
As he had many times while sitting by her bedside last night, he looked to what now hung in his chamber. “Thank ye for the tapestry, lass. ‘Tis verra bonny...and comforting.”
More comforting than she would ever know. For he had thought of that tree many times when away warring. The good times he’d shared with his brother under it but more so those moments with her. How many times had he wanted to touch her cheek? Press his lips to hers? Too often to count.
But alas, it was not to be.
He offered her a small smile. “We had many a fond memory beneath that tree, aye?”
“Aye, we did.” She looked at it with as much sentiment. “I had hoped it would someday hang in this castle and bring ye good memories.” Curiosity lit her eyes. “Might I ask who hung it?”
“Yer aunt.” He suspected, however, Brighid had been presumptuous in the hanging of it. “Did ye want it hung there? Or mayhap somewhere else in the castle?”
“Nay.” Her gaze returned to him. “I like it hung here, and I think Bróccín would have as well. The tree was a place for all three of us, aye?”
“Aye,” he murmured, glad she felt that way.
“Might I see Bróccín's grave whilst I am here?” she said so softly he barely caught it. But then, by the way she gripped the bedding, she had braced herself for the asking.
“Of course.” He was tempted to go to her, soothe her, but held back out of habit. “’Tis in back of the castle.”
“Is it then?” she said, surprised.
“Aye, where Bróccín requested it be,” he said. “Verra close to where ye first met.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her gaze misty again. “He did cherish that area.”
“Aye.”
Just like Colmac did.
He recalled the many times Bróccín spoke of it. The love in his eyes. While it might have been torture for Colmac, she and his brother would have had a good life together. Bróccín would’ve doted on her endlessly. Such was clear by the way he’d left her gifts in their secret hideaway every time she visited.
As if his brother reached out to him from the grave, he realized that was precisely what Bróccín referred to in his letter. “’Twas the hideaway in the side of the castle. That must be what he is talking about.”
“Och, our hideaway! How could I have forgotten?” Her brows swept up. “Do ye think he hid something in there for me?”
He nodded, positive of it. Their hideaway was behind a rock in the castle’s foundation. He and his brother had exchanged many secret missives in it when bairns. What’s more? Rona, their fast friend from the start, was indeed shown the location the same day they met her.
