Entrusted to a Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  “I don’t want my clan to fear you. Fear doesn’t instill loyalty or respect and I want my clan to be loyal to you and respect you enough that they would pick up a sword without hesitation and fight by your side,” she said.

  “Perhaps it would be better if you lead your clan. Your kind nature alone would instill loyalty and respect. I have no such kindness in me.”

  “I believe you do. I believe it retreated and hid so that it could survive against the brutality you were forced to endure, and one day it will come out of hiding.” She would pray hard for it to be so.

  “You mean I was forced to inflict,” he corrected.

  “Forced would be the most important word here.”

  “I could have refused, kept my honor, my respect,” he argued.

  “And died,” Purity said a shiver racing through her at the thought. “I preferred that you survived—at any cost.”

  Silence settled around them and Purity’s eyes began to close.

  “Purity.”

  “Aye,” she said, her name stirring her from the sleep that cradled her.

  “Your father is a fool for not recognizing how beautiful you are.”

  She yawned. “That’s kind of you to say, Arran, but I accepted long ago how plain I am.”

  Arran wanted to strangle her father for what he’d done to Purity, though more so what he hadn’t done. He hadn’t loved his daughter the way he should have. He had ignored her and worse he had allowed others to say hateful things to her. He never protected her. He wondered how he’d keep himself from strangling the man when they returned home.

  He rested his head back against the door. It annoyed him that his thought had been on sealing their vows and he had given no consideration to how she must feel after the day’s event. What was even worse was that it was his own growing desire to couple with her more than sealing their vows that had driven his decision.

  He rubbed his chin, his annoyance growing. His wife appealed to him far too much, though why that concerned him, he didn’t know? After all, she was his wife. So what was wrong with him finding her appealing?

  The answer was obvious and he didn’t like it. It made him no different than her father. He had paid her no heed before now. He, like most, had ignored her, never really looking at her and seeing her. So much so, that he hadn’t even recognized her when he had first seen her. She had changed some, but not enough that he should have failed to recognize her.

  His wife possessed a rare type of beauty, the kind that comes with an unselfish heart and soul. The kind that gives freely. The kind who cares equally for animals and humans. The kind that no matter how much unkindness she suffers, she still possesses the ability to love.

  A tug in his chest had him scowling and rubbing at the spot, and the sudden thought that struck him shocked him.

  I care for her.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to care again. It did no good. It only brought endless pain and suffering. And God knows he had had enough of both these last few years. He would guard her, keep her safe, and treat her well. It was the closest to caring he could give her, since it seemed like long ago he’d lost the ability to love anyone.

  They had left the cottage a couple of hours ago and her heart was still heavy over leaving there. She had left far more behind than what she took with her. She had finally found a place she felt content and welcomed. The forest had embraced her like a loving parent and she had never felt so accepted, so loved.

  “It hurts you leaving there,” Arran said, having seen the tears she had tried to hide from him and the sorrow that showed in the slump of her shoulders, the frown on her lips, the tight knit of her brow. She was unhappy and it disturbed him more than he should have let it.

  Purity nodded. “It has been the only place I could truly call home. The only place I’ve ever felt loved.”

  “I wish I could love you.” The words sounded harsh to his ears, but it was better he was truthful with her, then pepper her with falsehoods or worse—hope.

  His words hurt, but she wouldn’t let him know it. “You’ve made that clear, Arran.” Her next thought raced from her mouth before she could stop it. “That doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”

  Arran was quick to halt his steps, Purity following suit, and issued a command, “You will not love me.”

  Purity’s eyes went wide, then she let out a laugh. Princess looked up at her from where she had stopped beside her and King did as well from where he sat perched on Princess’s back. Hope even cast her a look with the tilt of her head from where she followed behind Arran. She laughed so hard that it shook the tears that had been building in her eyes loose and they ran down her cheeks.

  She wiped at her wet cheeks and between the chuckles that lingered, she said, “You can’t dictate how I feel.” She shook her head, thinking it crazy but feeling freer than ever to speak her mind. “I love you, Arran. I think I’ve loved you from that first day I saw you and you smiled at me. No one smiled at me but you did and it touched my heart. Maybe I’m a fool for feeling that way, but I’d be a bigger fool to deny it.” She chuckled again. “Raven knew. She saw it when no one else did and what I love about your sister is that she never made fun of me for loving you. She didn’t laugh at me. She took my feelings seriously and spoke kindly to me, though she had stronger words for you. So you can command all you want, but it will do little good. You can’t command the heart, not yours and certainly not mine. I understand your heart doesn’t feel for me what my heart feels for you, but that doesn’t mean my heart can stop loving you.”

  Arran stared at her speechless, not knowing what to say.

  Purity chuckled again. “I’ve left you speechless, a feat I once thought impossible, but over the last few years I learned nothing is impossible. I never thought it possible I would be your wife and yet here you are—my husband. But don’t worry, I hold no hope you will love me. My love will have to be enough for the both of us.” She turned away. “Come, Princess and King, and remember what I told you, as long as the three of us—now the five of us with Arran and Hope—are together, that is home.”

  There was little that truly shocked Arran anymore, but Purity’s words had shocked him frozen. She was right, she had left him speechless and his limbs frozen. It took him a few moments to gather his wits about him and follow after her.

  How could she love him? Why would she love him? Because he smiled at her? He tried to remember the moment and couldn’t recall when they first met or smiling at her. He had smiled at every woman that glanced his way and even at the ones that didn’t offer him a smile, which was not likely. Women had smiled at him all the time. But the willing women he had often shared a good poke with knew better than to think he loved them. He hadn’t been suited for love then and he certainly wasn’t suited for love now.

  My wife loves me.

  He didn’t know what to do with her words or why they had stirred something in him. His heart had felt as if it had stilled for a moment, skipped a beat out of shock or had it been something else? But what? What did it matter? He couldn’t love her. He had no love to give. He had nothing. He was empty. Why then did the thought disturb him so much?

  They continued on in silence, though it was with a lighter heart and step for Purity. It had felt good, freeing, to tell Arran how she felt. And she probably shouldn’t feel happy about leaving him speechless, but she enjoyed a silent chuckle that she did. He was her husband so what did it matter that he knew and maybe, in some small way, it would help.

  She felt his hand grab her arm at the same time she saw Princess stop and her head shoot up, alerting that something was amiss.

  Arran pushed her behind him, a habit he had gotten into since his return, and he drew his sword, his eyes following where Princess stared, growling low.

  A man suddenly burst from the woods, running toward them.

  Chapter 9

  “Thank the Lord. Thank the Lord, I finally found—”

  Purity watched Quiver turn pale
as he stopped abruptly upon seeing Arran, his sword held high ready to deliver a fatal blow. She also saw that he appeared quite disheveled and she wondered if he’d been wandering, lost in the woods since that first attack.

  Quiver rushed his skinny arms above his head, yelling, “I mean you no harm. I mean you no harm. Please, I beg you don’t hurt me.”

  “Touch that bow and you’re dead,” Arran warned.

  Keeping his hands above his head, Quiver waved his hands frantically. “I won’t touch it. I won’t touch it. Please, I need help,” he pleaded. “I’ve been lost and can’t find my way out of these woods. I should have never listened to my sister when she told me to go with Reid, her good-for-nothing husband. But then she’s no better, stealing and such. And there’s no doubt she’ll blame me for him being dead. I’d be more than pleased never to lay eyes on her again.”

  “I’m supposed to believe your whining?” Arran accused harshly.

  Two bright red spots burst on Quiver’s pale cheeks.

  “You intended to harm my wife and now you beg for help. You are a fool,” Arran spat.

  “I am a fool, definitely a fool. I didn’t know she was your wife and I was told no harm was to come to the woman. I had no wont to harm her only fetch the coin promised for her return.”

  Arran motioned with his hand for Quiver to approach and the man took cautious steps toward him.

  “Who offered the coin?” Arran asked.

  Quiver shook his head and came to a stop when Arran signaled him to do so. “I don’t know. Reid didn’t tell me, thought it better I didn’t know, though he boasted like he knew. He was always boasting when he never had anything to boast about, same with Owen. He was as worthless as Reid, though a vicious one. I almost didn’t join them when I found out Owen was to be part of it. And nothing was said about the woman having a husband.”

  “What were you told about the woman?” Arran asked, wanting to gather as much information as he could before he got rid of the man.

  “We were told to look for a woman with a three-fingered, claw-like hand,” Quiver said. “Owen warned we had to be careful since with her having a claw like that it was a sure sign she was a spawn of the devil.”

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Arran said, his voice calm but his face filled with rage.

  Quiver looked ready to drop, he trembled so badly. “He was wrong about the woman. I saw it for myself when she threw herself on top of the dog to shield the animal from my arrow. You can’t be a cohort of the devil when you protect an animal with your own life.”

  Arran and Purity were shocked to see King winding his way around Quiver’s trembling legs.

  “He can’t be all that bad if King likes him,” Purity whispered to Arran.

  “You have too soft a heart,” Arran warned her. “And did you forget he almost killed Princess?”

  “I love animals. I find them more kind than humans. And I had no intention of harming the dog. I set my arrow to purposely miss her.”

  “And I got in the way of it,” Purity said and caught the annoyed shake of her husband’s head out of the corner of her eye.

  “Aye, I never meant to hurt you. Please. Please give me a chance to prove that I mean neither of you harm,” Quiver begged. “I am a skilled archer and I could serve you well.”

  “With an arrow in my back?” Arran sneered and knew without his wife saying—just yet—that she would beg for the man’s life as well, since he felt the same about animals as she did.

  “Never! Never would I do that,” Quiver pleaded.

  “We should give him a chance, Arran,” Purity said. “If you don’t wish him to serve you, perhaps he can find a home with the Clan Mackinnon.”

  Quiver’s trembling increased and Purity didn’t think the man could get any paler than he already was, but he did.

  “You’re Arran of the Clan MacKinnon?” Quiver asked apprehensively.

  Arran confirmed with a nod. “That I am.”

  Quiver fell to his knees. “Forgive me! I beg you forgive me. I’m a fool! Please! Please! I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know she was your wife. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Purity couldn’t quite believe that the man cried and begged on his knees for mercy from Arran as if he was facing the devil himself.

  Quiver continued to beg, “Please, sir, I will serve you faithfully.”

  Purity couldn’t bear it any longer. “No one is going to harm you.”

  Arran turned to her. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

  “I have and so has King, and King only goes to those who he instinctively knows are good and kind.”

  “That must be true since he hasn’t shown a bit of acceptance to me,” Arran said, challenging her to say otherwise.

  Purity was ready to argue, explain why he was wrong when Quiver spoke, his words rushing from his mouth.

  “He’s right. He’s not good and kind. He’s Satan himself.” Quiver gasped at his own words and his hand flew to cover his mouth as if fearing more damaging words would spill out.

  “My husband is not Satan. He is a good man and I will not hear a single disparaging remark about him or you can be on your way,” Purity said with a sharp anger that had both men staring at her in surprise.

  “Forgive me, I’ve foolishly believed what I’ve heard others say,” Quiver said in a way of an excuse.

  “Well, they’re wrong,” Purity snapped.

  “Nay, they’re not wrong,” Arran said and his hand went up as soon as his wife rushed to respond. “We’ve wasted enough time talking.” He looked to Quiver. “My wife believes you are a worthy man. Show me differently and your death will not be an easy one.”

  “I will serve you faithfully. You have my word on it,” Quiver said with relief, though he didn’t stop trembling.

  “You’ll walk in front of us,” Arran ordered and took his wife’s arm for them to step aside and let Quiver pass. He did with cautious steps.

  Purity walked beside her husband and watched as Princess, with a tap of a paw from King after settling himself on top of her back, moved to walk next to Quiver while Hope continued behind Arran. She was right about the man, but then King was never wrong about a person’s true nature. Why then had he not gone near Arran? Jealous? Could that be possible?

  Hours passed before they stopped for a rest. Clouds hovered overhead, but there was not a scent of impending rain in the air. Quiver’s remark about Arran being Satan haunted her. It troubled her that such gossip existed and it troubled her even more that gossip often started with a grain of truth but grew wildly out of control with each wagging tongue. What disturbed her the most about it was that Arran had agreed with him, and she wanted to know why. She also wanted to ask Quiver about it, but not in front of her husband.

  After a drink from the stream they’d stopped by, Quiver went and sat against a rock, resting his head back against it. Princess followed him and stretched out beside him, which didn’t surprise Purity since Princess always knew when someone was in need. Quiver stroked her back, his trembling finally ceased.

  “Don’t dare ask him,” Arran warned as he dropped down beside her on the ground.

  His face was wet from a quick scrubbing, little rivulets of water hugging his cheeks and descending slowly as if they didn’t want to let go. She couldn’t blame them for not wanting to let go, he was a handsome one. His features so fine a woman would never get tired of looking at him. But oddly enough she was jealous of the drops that clung to his lips. His lips belonged to her and no one else. Without thinking, she leaned close and kissed the drops from his lips until they were no more.

  “Don’t think to distract me,” he said when she finished, though that was a complete lie since her unexpected kiss had done just that. Her scrunched brow told him she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t dare ask him,” he repeated.

  Purity shook her head, trying to clear it and make sense of what her husband referred to. She backtracked to before he had sat down beside her and
it instantly came to her.

  “I see on your face that you understand what I mean.”

  “I won’t need to ask Quiver if you explain why you believe you’re referred to as Satan,” she said, determined to get an answer.

  “You don’t want to know,” he warned.

  “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t want to know.”

  “Leave it alone, Purity,” he ordered sharply.

  She smiled. “There is something you should learn about women. By ordering them to leave it alone, you’re actually telling them to go ahead and find out.” She could have sworn he snarled, a low, rumbling snarl.

  “Do I need to remind you that it is a wife’s duty to obey her husband.”

  Her smile grew. “I warned you that I was no longer the obedient lass you once knew, but you wed me anyway.” He went to argue and she kissed him, lingering in it for a few moments and faintly running her finger along his lips when she was done. “I love the taste of your cool, wet lips.”

  Arran fought against the urge to grab her and kiss her until—he shook his head. “Now is not the time or place.”

  “For a kiss?” She kissed him quickly. “There is always time for a kiss, especially since I discovered how much I enjoy kissing you.” His hand was at the back of her neck, gripping it tight and she hadn’t even seen him move it.

  “I can’t love you,” he whispered harshly, rushing his lips over hers as his words left a horrible, empty ache in his heart.

  “I didn’t ask you to,” she said softly and kissed him again, lingering, coaxing, and slipping her tongue past his lips as he’d often done to her.

  He was too hungry for her kiss to deny himself, and he let himself enjoy it for a few moments. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted like the last time. The memory of the attack when she’d distracted him by the pool of water had him ending the kiss.

  As his hand fell away from her neck, she whispered, “I love you enough for the both of us.”

  The stab to his heart, her words, her touch, her kiss left him with a strange feeling that was becoming all too familiar, and he wondered over it.