Ciaran glanced down. His face was red with laughter—probably as red as Bannon’s was with embarrassment—but, dust, he looked good. Happy. It made Bannon feel good deep inside, and how rare was it for someone to laugh at his follies instead of castigate him for them?
After the laughter finally subsided, Ciaran held down a hand to him. The hoe was clutched in his other one.
Taking the offered hand, Bannon stood. Once he was standing and staring at that chiseled jaw on a more even level, he didn’t know whether to swoon or kiss it, so he smiled. Even as attracted to Ciaran as he was, he was also… content? Yes, that was it. He was content. Which was actually a little odd. Before Ciaran had made him flustered and excited, but this was nice too.
Bannon reached for his backside and touched slime. “Eww….” He brought his hand around to the front and stared at the slimy remains of….
“Ye sat on a tomato. I must have knocked it off the plant when I leapt over it tae get tae ye.” The row of tomato plants was behind them.
Bannon had just cleaned up the disaster area that was tomato row. The boar had wreaked havoc on the plants. Which meant they had several partially ruined fruit to get seeds from for the castle garden. Apparently now they had one more, or at least the seeds. Bannon glanced around and located the basket of decimated produce and found it at the head of the aisle between the tomatoes and the beans. He slung the seeds and goo off his hand and into the basket.
Ciaran smirked at him, looking on the verge of laughing again. “What happened?”
“I lost my balance, and Timothy started shouting out directions.”
Ciaran’s lips twitched.
Bannon glared at him, and Ciaran held up a hand. There might have even been a few snorts.
After a moment, Ciaran’s mirth faded, and his face sobered. “I meant what had ye so deep in thought? Ye looked lost.”
“Pfft….” Bannon started to wave it away, but the look on Ciaran’s face stopped him. When Ciaran reached out and grabbed his hand—the hand still covered in tomato guts—without flinching, Bannon was lost. Or maybe he was found…. He’d never really confided in anyone except Louie. Louie was his safe haven, but he couldn’t help the feeling that Ciaran might be too, and all the worry he’d been harboring just seemed to come rushing out. “The idea of going into the base terrifies me. What if one of us is killed? What if all of us are?”
Ciaran’s face softened, but it wasn’t pity. His eyes shone with compassion and understanding. He tossed the hoe aside and reached out with his other hand to touch Bannon’s cheek in a gentle caress.
Bannon leaned into it and closed his eyes, taking comfort in the touch.
“I willnae lie tae ye. It happens. People die. It’s part of battle. Part of life.”
Not part of his life…. He shook his head, but Ciaran did not release him. “Captain Kindros will come back. Can’t we just wait awhile until she does? She is loyal to Regelence.”
“Ye are positive?”
Bannon nodded, loving the feel of Ciaran’s hand on his cheek. He could almost forget the turmoil inside him with that soft caress feathering his skin. “I’m sure Marcus can make something to signal the shuttle when it lands near the crash site. That is where she will look. He can probably make a flare or something for when we see the shuttle enter the atmosphere.”
“But our men…. Waiting could put them in more danger.”
“We don’t even know if the IN has them, but if they do, Captain Kindros might be able to get them out without violence. If we go rushing in, the IN could kill your men, but they would think she is one of them and they might release them to her.”
Ciaran looked up at the sky, then bobbed his head once as if coming to a conclusion. He smiled down at Bannon, then said, “Okay. Then we will wait. We will give ye Captain Kindros a chance to come before we raid the base. I dinna deny it will probably be safer fer my men, but if the gates start going up, we will have tae move.”
Surprise and joy filled Bannon. “You mean it?”
“Aye.”
Bannon planted a kiss right on Ciaran’s lips. He intended to pull back after the contact, but Ciaran didn’t let go. Instead he deepened the kiss, making Bannon forget what it was they were talking about. He forgot everything but the comforting caress of Ciaran’s lips, his tongue flirting with the insides of his mouth. He wanted to melt into Ciaran until he couldn’t tell where he stopped and where Ciaran began, but all too soon Ciaran’s lips left his.
“If she doesnae come, then we have tae raid the base. We have tae get word out and get some help. Else ye may never get home.”
With his lips still tingling, Bannon opened his eyes and stared into languid pools of ebony. He let out a soft sigh, considering Ciaran’s words. His heart ached at the thought of never seeing his family and friends.
His face must have shown his pain, because Ciaran caressed his cheek again and asked softly, “Would it be so bad if ye were stuck here? I ken ye would miss ye family, but I promise ye, ye’d have a place here… with me.”
Bannon’s heart melted and beat harder at the same time. The thought was both terrifying and wondrous. Skye was so harsh and rugged, but he could be happy here as long as he was with Ciaran. Galaxy help him, he was falling in love with Ciaran. How could he not? Ciaran was brave, strong, and honorable, but best of all, Ciaran treated him like an equal, not some ninny who had to be coddled. He respected Bannon’s opinions. “I have to get back. I have to warn my family. I have to get help for you and your people. We can’t fight the IN on our own, and Marcus and Patrick have to….” Blast, damn, and meteor dust!
A lump lodged in his throat, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. He pulled away from Ciaran and paced down the aisle next to the fence. With everything that had happened—Marcus’s confession about the satellite and them learning the IN was definitely behind all this—he’d forgotten about Trouble. He still had to tell Marcus and Patrick.
“What about Marcus and Patrick?”
Bannon turned around and stepped over the basket of vegetable corpses.
Ciaran waited patiently for him to speak.
Apprehension made his stomach feel a bit off, but he took the chance anyway and blurted out, “Marcus and Patrick’s son is alive.”
With no surprise, or any reaction at all, Ciaran stared at him for several seconds, as if he was trying to make sense of Bannon’s words, and then he nodded once. “This is what ye and Louisa were giving each other odd looks over the other day?”
“Yes. I didn’t know how to tell them. I should have told them then, but now….” It felt as though someone punched Bannon in the chest. “I don’t know how to tell them. Trouble, I mean Jeremy, was adopted by an IN admiral.”
Ciaran’s eyes widened, and he pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger as if he were trying to decide what to say, but Bannon didn’t give him a chance. He knew how Ciaran felt about the IN. Bannon didn’t like them either, but Bannon’s father hadn’t been killed by them.
“Nate is a good man. He’s on our side. He’s my friend Aiden’s consort, and he’s pledged himself to Regelence.”
Again Ciaran nodded. “Ye are positive?”
“Yes.”
“I see why ye dinna tell Marcus and Patrick. All these years I sensed some great loss within them, something dark. I ken they’d suffered loss, but I dinna ken what it was. Now I do. Ye have tae tell them. They deserve tae ken.”
“I know and I will. I just have to find the right time. Maybe I’ll tell them tonight when I ask Marcus about making a signal for the shuttle.”
Ciaran held his hand out.
Bannon took it, staring at their hands. They were so different. Ciaran’s were callused, Bannon’s were not, yet they were both filthy from hard work today.
“I’ll stand with whatever ye decide as long as ye tell them.”
“You will?” His voice climbed in pitch on the word will, but Bannon couldn’t help the surprise. Had anyone ever agreed to let him do thi
ngs how he thought best?
“Aye.” Ciaran’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “What is a flare?” Ciaran had no doubt about the plan, no telling Bannon he was a baconbrain—just a simple question.
The complete trust made Bannon want to kiss him again, and he was just about to do that when a feminine gasp interrupted him.
He stepped back to make an excuse and tell Louie to get over herself with the whole chaperone thing, but it wasn’t Louie.
Maggie stood outside the gate with a look of awe on her face, but she wasn’t looking at them. She was glancing around the garden. “Ye both did this?”
“Aye,” Ciaran answered.
Bannon nodded. He had to admit, the garden did look good. It had taken most of the morning, but they’d put it back to rights, repairing what they could, harvesting what they couldn’t fix, and keeping the seeds and cuttings that were salvageable.
She touched the base of her throat and shook her head, coming closer. She stopped just on the other side of the fence from them and rested her aging hands on top of it. “I canna believe this.” She turned to Ciaran. “And ye did it yeself. Dinna ye ken it’s below a laird tae mess in the garden? ’Tis woman’s work.”
“I’m nae like other lairds. Besides, this was my fault.”
“Nae, ye are nae like other lairds.” A slight grin appeared, then just as quickly disappeared. “As tae it being ye fault….” She shrugged. “Ye aunt says differently.”
“Did she now?”
“Aye.” Maggie gave a brief nod. “Matter of fact, she had a lot tae say tae me.”
Bannon could imagine. Agatha was very protective of Ciaran. “It isn’t woman’s work.”
Maggie and Ciaran looked at him.
“On my planet men and women work the fields.”
For the first time, she met Bannon’s gaze, and she stared at him for several seconds as if assessing him. Then she asked, “Why did ye help?”
He shrugged. “Because it needed to be done, and….” He glanced at Ciaran. A brilliant idea came to him. He should probably ask beforehand, but the woman wasn’t yelling, and she was one of the council that was after Ciaran about food, so he decided to take the chance. “We were wondering if you could help make a bigger garden in the castle courtyard. It might not help with the food shortage immediately, but it would help.”
Maggie’s head swiveled around to Ciaran.
Wincing, Bannon watched and waited for Ciaran to tell him he was overstepping himself, but Ciaran smiled at him and nodded. To Maggie, he said, “I dinna ken anyone who kens as much about gardening as ye. If I’m going tae replenish our food and take care of our clan, I’m gonna need help. I can protect all of ye, and I can hunt, but I dinna ken about gardens and keeping livestock.”
Blinking at him, Maggie put her hands on her hips. “Well now, I think it might work. It will be a first, far as I ken, but it might work. With the loss of so many men, the tenants arenae giving us as many goods. They can barely harvest their own gardens and tend their own flocks. Three goats were stolen last night.”
“Zooks. First the cattle, then the chickens and eggs, and now goats?” Bannon looked at Ciaran, who nodded. They really needed to do something about guarding their livestock. “With the fraggers, you can train the women, and they can help guard livestock too,” Bannon offered.
Ciaran thought about it for a moment and nodded. “It’s a guid idea.” To Maggie, he said, “I’ll get our meat, and I’ll get some women trained tae help watch over that meat.”
One side of her lips turned up just a smidgen. It wasn’t really a smile by normal standards, but for her, Bannon figured it was probably akin to outright glee. “Ye are gonna need help convincing the council.”
“Aye.” Ciaran chuckled and slapped her shoulder. “Aye, Maggie, I will.” He glanced over at Bannon. “Red?”
“Huh?”
Leaning down to grab the basket at Bannon’s feet, he whispered, “Thank ye.” Then Ciaran’s lips turned up, and his eyes practically twinkled. He reached out and ran his hand down the front of Bannon’s shirt. “This belongs tae ye.”
What? Bannon peeked down and spotted the gooey remains of the tomato on his shirt. “Ugh!” He looked up in time to see Ciaran take off with the basket of seeds and cuttings.
“Come along. We have a garden tae start,” Ciaran called over his shoulder.
Maggie chuckled beside him. She wasn’t a bad-looking woman when she wasn’t scowling. “Did ye have an accident with a tomato, lad? It’s on ye bum tae.”
Bannon sighed, but couldn’t help but smile back.
“Go. Off with ye. Go start ye garden, and I’ll be along in a while tae check ye progress.”
§ § § §
Marcus sat with his back against the foot of the bed, staring at the myriad of scrap parts laid out on the floor in front of him. He couldn’t build a satellite dish, but he might be able to piece together some more chargers for the fraggers. They would look like something Dr. Frankenstein created, but he was pretty sure they would function. First, however, he had to drag his decrepit arse over to the fireplace to melt some metal for solder.
Grabbing the handprint access panel for the shuttle door and some wire, Marcus pondered the fireplace and the kettle in front of him. He was considering just scooting over, when a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
The door creaked open very slowly but only a little bit. Bannon poked his head inside. He had his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he glanced around the room. When he spotted Marcus, he gave a soft smile. “Um, hello. Do you have a few moments? I was hoping to speak with you and Patrick about something.” His voice was soft and unsure.
Marcus’s heart ached for him. He knew exactly what Bannon must be feeling. He’d been very quiet on the ride back from the base last night. “Of course you can. Come on in. Patrick should be here in a moment.”
Abandoning his search for his cane, Marcus set down the panel and wires and rolled farther to his side using his hands to push up. He got to his hands and knees, pushed to his knees, and then he was stuck. He had nothing to leverage himself on, and his leg simply wasn’t strong enough to support all his weight, even for a moment.
The door clicked shut, and Bannon asked, “Where is your cane?”
“That is a very good question.”
“Would you like a hand?”
Impressed that Bannon actually asked, Marcus was appreciative. Most people didn’t. They helped whether he wanted their help or not, and nothing made a man feel quite so useless. His leg might be damaged, but his ego was still hearty and whole. “Actually, yes.” He grinned up at Bannon, hoping to put the young man at ease.
Bannon grinned back. He was dressed very casually in trousers, a shirt, and cravat. Holding a scroll of some sort in his left hand, he came forward and set the scroll on the bed before reaching his arms out. “How do you want me to help?”
“Just give me your arm, and I can pull up.”
As short as Bannon was, he didn’t even have to stoop down. He just bent his arm and held it out.
Marcus leveraged himself up, impressed by the young man’s strength, and slapped Bannon on the shoulder. “Thank you. Have a seat.” He gestured toward the small table and two chairs on the right side of the hearth. “Sorry I can’t offer you tea.” Marcus’s mouth watered at the thought. “Good galaxy, I’d do just about anything for a spot of tea.”
“You’re welcome. I’m rather missing it myself, and I haven’t gone so long as you without it.” Bannon took a seat in the chair closest to the fireplace and studied the parts laid out on the floor.
Marcus opted for the bed. Since it was higher off the ground than the chair, it would be easier to stand. “I tell you, I might even sell Patrick to the highest bidder for a pot of Regelence Breakfast Blend.”
Bannon smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was really bothering him.
When Marcus sat down, the scroll rolled toward him. It had a red ribb
on tied around it holding it shut. Marcus picked it up and held it out. “So what brings you here at this time of night? Having problems sleeping?”
Again, Bannon bit his bottom lip and shook his head. He lifted a hand, gesturing toward the rolled parchment, and said, “I was drawing that. It’s for you.”
“Oh.” He looked at the scroll and grabbed the end of the ribbon.
“But don’t open it yet,” Bannon said quickly, sounding almost panicked. “Wait for Patrick.” He took a deep breath, then smiled when Marcus raised a brow at him. But it was a hesitant smile.
This will never do. Marcus liked the kid and hated to see him upset. Setting the scroll aside, he pushed up from the bed and crossed to the other chair, pulled it closer to Bannon, then sat down. He caught Bannon’s hands between his, and they were as cold as ice cubes. Rubbing them, Marcus stared at the top of Bannon’s head, until Bannon glanced up at him.
Those green eyes looked haunted.
“You’re nervous about getting home. Afraid we won’t be able to.”
“That’s not….” He shook his head. “That too, but I need to tell you and Patrick something. Something I should have told you already, but I didn’t know how to.”
He looked so despondent, Marcus wanted to hug him. He wished Patrick would hurry up. “Well, whatever it is, you can tell us now, all right?”
Bannon nodded.
Marcus patted his hands. They were finally starting to warm up some. “In the meantime, try not to worry about getting home. We will get there.”
“I can’t help it. I’m worried about breaking into the base. Did Ciaran talk to you?”
He nodded. “He did. And I think it’s a good idea to postpone the raid and see if your captain comes back for you.”
“She will, I know she will, but can you make some sort of signal for when the shuttle enters the atmosphere?”
My Highland Laird: Sci-Regency Book 5 Page 20