by Cheryl Bolen
Ever since that morning out in the glen when Emma had dared to steal a kiss as a young lass, everything had changed. Before, Finn had merely looked past her, his eyes barely seeing the young girl who noticed him the moment he walked into a room. After that day, he had begun to see her as well. Only, his green gaze had held nothing friendly or kind, but only disdain and a deep-seated anger that Emma could not understand. Had her kiss truly offended him that much?
And then he had left.
Over the past seven years, Finn had spent months at a time with Clan MacKinnear−again and again−and although Emma could not truly believe that she had been the one to chase him away, she could not help but feel as though he had left in order to avoid her.
Her heart ached at the mere thought of it.
“Why don’t ye speak to him?”
Jarred from her thoughts, Emma turned to look at her friend, finding Maggie’s gentle blue eyes watching her carefully. “I dunno know what ye mean,” Emma replied before clearing her throat. Then she reached for another bow, thus turning her attention to something safer.
Maggie chuckled, her dainty feet carrying her to Emma’s side as though they barely touched the ground. “Dunno pretend with me,” she whispered quietly. “I promised I willna share what ye told me with anyone, but neither can I pretend that I dunno know.”
Emma sighed, a part of her regretting that she had shared the events of that fateful morning with Maggie. Still, another part was glad to have found a friend she could confide in without fear that her innermost thoughts and feelings would be passed on throughout the castle. Maggie had indeed proved herself to be trustworthy and kind-hearted…and plain-speaking as well. Emma would forever be grateful for the day her friend had come to Seann Dachaigh Tower.
“There’s nothing to say,” Emma mumbled under her breath, the little hairs in the back of her neck telling her that Finn had not yet left the hall. How was it that she could all but feel his presence? Why would the Fates not allow her to forget about him? Was there anything more cruel than unrequited love?
Although Emma had spent a great deal of time on convincing herself that she did in fact not care for Finn MacDrummond, her obsession with him had eventually forced her to admit that she had been fooling herself. Unfortunately, that realisation had not helped in the least. If anything at all, it had served to seal her fate. Without any sway over her own heart, she would be forever doomed to yearn for a man who hated her.
“That’s not true,” Maggie objected in her usual direct way. “There’s quite a lot to be said. Ye will never receive an answer if ye’re too scared to ask questions.”
Turning to face her friend, Emma huffed, “Ye canna truly think it a good idea for me to simply walk up to him and ask why he hates me so?”
A teasing grin claimed Maggie’s face. “Ye once walked up to him and stole a kiss, why not ask a simple question?”
Heat shot into Emma’s face, and she could not help but glance in Finn’s direction.
He and Cormag had obviously finished their conversation and were now striding toward the back exit, which led out into the courtyard. They passed by the two women, and the moment Finn’s gaze veered to the side, Emma sucked in a sharp breath.
Their eyes met, and for a heart-breaking moment, the world seemed to stop in its tracks. The green in his gaze flared to life, and Emma felt the heat all the way to her toes. Still, the scowl remained on his face, telling her only too clearly what he thought of her.
Bowing her head, Emma turned away, relieved when the little hairs in the back of her neck finally calmed.
“Clearly, he affects ye as he always has,” Maggie observed rather inconveniently, “and I do believe there’s a reason why he would glare at ye so. Indifference doesna cause such hatred.” Shaking her head, Maggie held Emma’s gaze. “Nah, mind my words. There’s a reason for the way he looks at ye, and ye will never know it if ye dunno speak to him.”
Emma’s heart skipped a beat happily, new hope surging to the surface before she forced it back down with an iron will. “Even if ye’re right, it willna change what is. He doesna care for me, and I’d do well to accept that. Perhaps then I’ll be able to begin a life of my own.” Her gaze drifted to where Niall and Blair were playing with the castle’s hounds. A sigh escaped her, and a different longing came to her heart.
“Ye will be a mother,” Maggie whispered beside her, “but it will dampen yer happiness if ye choose the wrong father. Believe me.”
Emma’s brows drew down as she turned to look at her friend.
Always cheerful and laughing, Maggie often seemed like a force of nature despite her small stature and slender figure. She seemed one with the ground she walked on, at peace and calm, like someone born of this earth. With a gentle hand, she guided her children through life, giving them the freedom they needed to discover who they were but always holding a protective hand over their heads when needed. Whatever Maggie did, she did with a calm confidence that had always inspired awe in Emma.
And yet, her friend was not truly happy, was she?
“No marriage is perfect,” Maggie continued, the slight tension in her jaw telling Emma that she was well aware of her friend’s scrutiny. “Even a great love can be lost, just as a match of convenience can turn into something far deeper.” She sighed and finally met Emma’s gaze. “There’s no telling what the future will bring. All we can do is our best and be honest with ourselves. Sometimes we make a wrong decision. It happens.” Her blue eyes wide, Maggie stepped forward and grasped Emma’s hands. “But sometimes a wrong decision can be avoided. Believe me, there’s nothing worse…than regret.”
Staring into Maggie’s eyes, seeing the slight mist that clung to her lashes, Emma swallowed, realising for the first time how deeply unhappy Maggie was in her marriage. “Is Ian-?”
Clearing her throat, Maggie suddenly stepped back. “Ian is a good man and a good father,” she rushed to say before Emma could ask a question that might unhinge the balance of the life she had made for herself at Seann Dachaigh Tower.
But not a good husband, Emma added in her mind. At least not the one yer heart wants.
Although Emma would have wanted nothing more than to ask about the mysterious man who had stolen Maggie’s heart at some point in her life, she did not for the look in her friend’s eyes told her how affected her heart still was. Emma knew exactly how it felt to yearn for a man for years and never have one’s heart see reason and abandon its quest.
“Ye at least,” Maggie suddenly said, “can still choose. Once ye have, there is no going back.” A desperate plea rested in Maggie’s blue eyes.
Emma sighed, not wishing to hurt her friend. “I know what ye say is true, but ‘tis not only my choice. What I want doesna matter if he doesna also want the same.”
“But ye dunno know what he wants unless ye speak to him.”
Emma scoffed as the exhaustion of years wasted slowly caught up with her. “I dunno know? Truly? Ye’ve seen the way he glares at me, and ye truly think that there’s a chance.” Emma shook her head, knowing only too well the pain false hope could bring. “No, it’ll be better for me to forget about him and…seek happiness elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” Maggie asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Ye mean Vaughn?”
Emma tensed. “How−?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at ye,” Maggie interrupted, the look in her eyes still one of disapproval. “He’s a good man, decent and kind and respectful, but he’s not the man for ye.”
“Why?” Emma frowned. “Do I not deserve such a man?”
“Of course, ye do.” Sighing, Maggie reached out to grasp Emma’s hand once more, the look in her eyes one of motherly indulgence, as though Emma was an unruly child unwilling to see reason. “But he deserves more.”
Snatching back her hand, Emma stared at her friend. “D’ye not think me good enough for him?”
Maggie chuckled, “Dunno act like a child. I meant no such thing and ye know it. But d’ye not
agree that Vaughn deserves a wife who can love him? Does he not deserve a wife whose heart doesna belong to another man?”
Sobering, Emma felt her shoulders slump as one by one every path led her to nothing but heartbreak. “Aye,” she finally said. “He does deserve that.” Swallowing, she looked up at Maggie. “But perhaps over time, he will conquer my heart. Perhaps…”
The look in Maggie’s eyes clearly stated that she disagreed. “Ye must do what ye think right. I canna make that decision for ye. All I can do is ask ye to think about the consequences of yer decision. Think wisely for the day may come that ye wish ye had.”
Emma nodded, knowing that Maggie was right. Still, every once in a while, Emma wished she could throw caution to the wind and act on impulse alone…simply to have it over with. For years now, she’d been wracking her mind, her heart, every fibre of her being about what to do and what path to choose, and she was still as torn as she had been years earlier. Would the rest of her life look like this? Trapped between what her heart desired and what her mind deemed right? Would these two never walk hand in hand?
“Speak to him,” Maggie urged once more. “What do ye have to lose?”
Closing her eyes, Emma drew in a shaking breath. Indeed, what did she have to lose? Her heart? Her mind? Her sanity? If Finn rejected her outright, if he laughed in her face, if he told her she was the most awful woman he had ever met, would she be able to recover? Would she ever be happy again?
Are ye now? An annoyingly familiar voice whispered in the back of her head. A voice that sounded suspiciously like a well-meaning but rather opinionated friend.
“Ye say he hates ye,” Maggie continued, her voice kind and yet insistent, “that he nothing but glares at ye.”
Emma nodded, wondering what her friend was trying to tell her.
A soft smile came to Maggie’s lips. “Has there never been a moment−a single moment−when he didna glare at ye? When there was something else in his eyes?”
Emma was about to shake her head when a distant memory surfaced. A memory that always brought pain and joy as though one could not exist without the other.
After Emma’s mother had died giving birth to her, she had been the light of her father’s life…and he had been hers. Although she had always longed for the mother she had never known, her father had been all any child could ever have hoped for. He had been an enthusiastic playmate, a passionate storyteller and a devoted protector. He had been everything to her, the sun that warmed her face and the air she breathed.
Until the day he had passed on.
Suddenly and unexpectedly.
Without warning.
One moment they had shared the midday meal, and the next he had dropped to the ground.
Emma dimly remembered the haze that had claimed her the moment she had understood that her father was lost to her. For days, she had walked the castle grounds like a ghost haunting the living. Neither tear nor smile had come to her face until the day they had buried him.
Stone-faced, she had stood by his grave, unaware of the world around her as her heart had slowly reawakened and the pain had claimed her whole. Turning away, Emma had walked and walked, leaving Seann Dachaigh Tower and its people behind her. Tears had streamed down her face, and yet, she had walked on until she had come upon a small loch.
At its banks, Emma had sunk down into the lush grass, her legs no longer able to carry her. There, she had finally succumbed to her tears, weeping for the only parent she had ever known. Painful sobs had wracked her body, shaking her limbs and breaking her into a thousand small pieces…never to be whole again.
And then all of a sudden, as though he had appeared out of thin air, Finn had been there.
Emma hadn’t even known that he had returned from his latest stay with Clan MacKinnear. She had not seen him in a long time, and yet, when she had needed him…he had been there. As though the Fates had returned him to her.
Quietly, Finn had sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly and letting her cry. She had buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him like someone drowning.
As though nothing had happened, as though this had been a day like any other, the sun had commenced on its daily journey across the sky, and all the while, they had sat on the bank of the loch, his arms wrapped around her.
Not a single word had passed Finn’s lips that day.
Not one.
And yet, he had sat in the grass for hours, holding her in his arms, his fingers gentle as they brushed damp curls from her temple and behind her ear. The hint of a warm smile had been on his lips that day, kind and comforting, and the green in his eyes had held nothing but compassion and understanding and perhaps−perhaps−the promise that one day the pain would not be as crushing as it had been in that moment.
When her sobs had lessened, Finn had helped her to her feet and walked her home, his arm tightly around her and her head still resting against his shoulder. He had taken her to the small cottage she had shared with her father, assisting her inside until she had dropped into her bed, exhausted in heart and body. Dimly, she remembered him draping a blanket over her. Then he had sat down on a chair in the corner, watching over her as she had drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, Finn had been gone, and Maggie had sat at her bed, her gentle ways urging Emma to hold on to her father’s memory but to return to the living and reclaim her smile.
A part of Emma still wondered if the day by the loch had been a dream and nothing more. For when she next saw Finn, the look in his eyes once again held the same disappointment and anger she had glimpsed there every day since the morning in the glen when she had stolen a kiss.
And then he had left yet again.
Chapter 2
A Clan's Tradition
Walking beside the cart, Finn almost bumped into Ian’s back when he suddenly drew to a halt.
“What’s the matter?” Ian asked as he turned to frown at his friend. “Are ye asleep on yer feet? ‘Tis not a good day to be absent-minded. There’s work to be done.”
Mumbling an apology, Finn did his best to ignore the way Ian shook his head at him or Cormag watched him out of the corner of his eye as though he were a rare specimen of some kind that ought to be studied. Only Garrett seemed as absent-minded as Finn himself. Their eyes distant, they each reached for one of the logs piled high on the horse-drawn cart. Then they walked up to the small cottages lining the road through the little village just outside the walls of Seann Dachaigh Tower and handed them to the families living there as a yuletide offering. For as long as Finn could remember, it had been a tradition for the young men of Clan MacDrummond to cut logs prior to the festivities and then offer them to the families of their clan, a promise that they were not alone, that they all stood as one and would forever look out for each other.
Always had this tradition had a special meaning for Finn. After his father had passed as well, he had felt alone, thinking himself without family to care for him, to see when he hurt, when he was in pain, to take notice of him.
Until the day when Cormag and his friends had stopped by his parents’ cottage to offer him a log and then urge him to accompany them on their way. Reluctantly, Finn had joined in and soon realised that he had not gone as unnoticed as he had feared.
“The situation with the runaways has been resolved,” Garrett said, his gaze intent on Cormag as he spoke. “All I could have done I did. There is no reason for me to remain here.”
Looking up, Finn found a look of great urgency on Garret’s face, his shoulders tense as he handed another log to Ian, who rolled his eyes as he overheard their conversation and then trudged up to the next cottage on the road. Garrett, however, failed to notice his friend’s annoyance as his attention was solely focused on their laird.
Narrowing his gaze, Cormag looked at him as he often did before he replied, a rather annoying calm resting on his features as though no emotions stirred under his skin. “I assure ye I understand yer desire to be off, and I dunno
object to yer returning to England. However, I suggest ye allow reason to govern ye and hold off until the roads are safer for travel.” He glanced around them at the heaps of snow blocking every path leading to and from Seann Dachaigh Tower. Even the short distance down into the village with the heavy cart had taken most of the morning. “Ye willna find yer wife any faster if ye freeze on the road.”
Garrett’s shoulders slumped, and yet, there was a hint of a smirk on his face at Cormag’s rather rare attempt at a joke. “Aye, ye’re right,” he conceded, reaching for another log as Ian came trudging back. “But I canna deny that I long to be off. After all, I havena seen my wife in months.”
Moaning, Ian shook his head. “Am I the only one working today?” he complained, his face dark as he all but glared at Garrett. “And ye’re a fool for going after her. Ye married her after a drunken night at a tavern.” Ian scoffed in contempt. “If she had truly wanted to remain yer wife, she wouldna have run off.”
Garrett’s face darkened at his friend’s accusations. “She didna run off,” he snapped as they stood almost face to face like stags about to charge. “Her brother came for her and took her back home.”
“Why?” Ian huffed. “She’s yer wife. Or perhaps she doesna want to be, have ye ever thought of that?”
“Enough.” Cormag’s calm but commanding voice cut off any further remarks as he stepped forward, his boots crunching on the snow as he moved like a giant among dwarfs. His grey eyes shifted from Garrett to Ian before he spoke again. “Garrett, ye’re free to leave as soon as the roads are safe to travel.” Then his gaze turned to Ian and something silent passed between the two men. A moment later, Ian drew in a heavy breath and turned back to the cart, picking up another log before he once more headed down the road.
Silence fell over their little group as they continued on, slowly working their way down the road, visiting each house and sharing a few kind words with people they had known one way or another all their lives. Still, dark looks were exchanged between Ian and Garrett, and Finn wondered why his friend was so upset with Garrett’s desire to return to England and look for his wife. Their story had in fact proved quite popular among their clan.