The Highlander's Bride

by Donna Fletcher

  He was off her in a flash, spewing a flurry of oaths as he snatched his shirt and slipped it on. “You are nothing like her.”

  Sara sat up, bracing her hands on either side of her. “No, I’m not, and it would do you well to remember that.”

  “Her tongue was gentle!” Cullen snapped.

  “What you want to say is that my tongue is sharp and unpredictable,” Sara accused. “And you don’t find me appealing.”

  “We don’t have to appeal to each other to solidify this bargain.”

  “True enough, but you will need to let go of your grief long enough to seal our bargain.”

  Cullen stood silent, staring at her, knowing she was right yet wondering if he would ever be able to step out of his grief, out of the memories, out of the pain of losing Alaina.

  Sara sat on the bed. “Tell me what happened to Alaina. I often wondered of her fate.”

  Cullen obliged her, though he didn’t know why. Maybe it was his need to speak of his pain and finally release it. He sat alongside her, again silently questioning why. He only knew if he didn’t share some of his pain, his heart would certainly burst from his suffering.

  “Alaina helped to rescue me from Weighton.”

  Sara’s eyes rolled in shock. “I heard Weighton was an impregnable prison that no one escaped.”

  “Thanks to my brother Burke and the infamous outlaw Storm—”

  Sara grew excited. “Storm! I’ve heard tales of her bravery and how she rescues the innocent.”

  “Storm is a pint-sized bundle of courage and skill, and my brother fell helplessly in love with her, as she did him. He is taking her to his home in America where she will be safe. Alaina worked with them, providing them with important information that helped lead to my escape.”

  A sadness marred Sara’s nod. “Alaina was a brave woman.”

  “Braver than I ever imagined, though her courage cost us dearly.” Cullen paused, recalling Alaina’s smiling face, her violet eyes, her gentle ways and her last breath. “We were all on the last portion of our journey to freedom when we were attacked by soldiers, the Earl of Balford’s men. I lost sight of Alaina during the clash, and when it was over, the stench of blood and death heavy in the air, I spotted her.”

  He drew a much-needed breath before continuing, but it did little good. The stench of that battle still stung his nostrils, and he knew it always would. “She had been run through with a sword. I rushed to her side—” He choked on his words and fought the tears that tore at his eyes. “I knew—” He shook his head roughly. “I knew at first glance she was dying. I held her in my arms and she fought with every painful breath to tell me of her love for me and of our son. I promised her that I would find him.”

  Cullen hadn’t realized that she had laid her hand over his or that he’d taken hold of it and gripped it tightly. He did know he needed an anchor right now. Something to keep him sane and steady, and Sara, with her stout courage, could do that.

  Sara gave his hand a squeeze. “She left a part of her here with you in her son.”

  Cullen took their clasped hands to rest at his heart. “She left part of herself here as well. I can never forget her.”

  “There’s no reason you should. In time you will heal and the pain will ease.”

  He let their locked hands rest in his lap. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

  Sara shook her head. “I have not been lucky enough to find love, but I have observed others around me who have loved and lost. It is not easy, but then life is not easy. We do what we must whether we like it or not.”

  “Like us marrying?”

  “It serves a purpose for each of us, a good purpose. So why complain?”

  “You have a practical nature,” Cullen said.

  “What else am I to do? I have learned through trial and error that there is a time to fight and a time to surrender.”

  Cullen smiled. “Then you will know when to surrender.”

  Sara laughed softly and slipped her hand out of his. “Hear what I said, not what you want to hear.”

  A gust of wind shook the cottage reminding them both of the storm. Cullen left the bed to go to the door, open it and check on the weather.

  He returned after latching the door. “The wind remains but it looks as if the snow is letting up. It may just stop before morning, which means we can be on our way.”

  “That is good news. I look forward to seeing my family again. It’s been too long.”

  “You aren’t angry with your father anymore?”

  “I have no reason to be.” She poked his chest. “I have a husband, so I have fulfilled my duty. He will bother me no more.”

  “What happens when I leave you?”

  Sara shrugged. “I’m not concerned with that since in the eyes of the church I am still wed. My father might bluster in anger, but eventually he’ll calm down and leave it be, leave me be.”

  “Do you have sisters or brothers?”

  “A sister, Teresa.” Sara grinned. “We were inseparable growing up. After she took a husband, Shamus, a man she had long been sweet on, and whom I think is wonderful for her, we didn’t spend as much time together. But we manage to see each other often enough. She lives on a farm not far from the keep.”

  “You haven’t mentioned your mother.”

  “She passed many years ago, when I was twelve. Many say I resemble her, though they’re quick to point out that I was endowed with my father’s audacious nature.”

  “Then by the time we reach your home I will know what to expect from your father,” Cullen said.

  Sara chuckled and shook her head. “I am not all like my father. He can be sly and secretive.”

  “Not so you?”

  She gasped dramatically. “I am stunned that you should even ask that of me.”

  Cullen had to laugh. “Forgive the implication and thanks for the insight.”

  “How can you be so sure it is insight, if you believe me sly and secretive?”

  “I believe I should add manipulative to the list.”

  “What of your list?” she asked.

  She was a quick one, and Cullen told himself he needed to remember that. “We’ll work on mine another time. Right now, I think it would be a good idea for us to get some sleep. If the snow abates before morning we’ll be able to get an early start.”

  Cullen retrieved the other blanket and with some maneuvering, they settled into bed together. It was a tight squeeze. They could only manage to occupy the bed if they rested side by side. Cullen took the side closest to the wall with Sara’s back planted firmly to his front. He kept his arm wrapped around her to make certain she didn’t slip off the bed.

  His cheek rested against her hair and he favored the sweet scent of her silky curls. It reminded him of freshly bloomed spring flowers. He didn’t mind the feel of her either. It actually felt good to be wrapped around a woman and though he would have preferred her to be Alaina, that wasn’t possible.

  “Comfortable?” he asked.

  “Surprisingly yes.”

  “You enjoy sleeping next to me.”

  “Actually flat up against you,” she amended with a wiggle.

  Her tight bottom was pushed flat up against him all right and fit him with snug perfection. He took a breath and steeled himself not to respond. If he did, she’d feel it.

  She moved again, innocently enough, but any movement was too intimate.

  He tightened his arm around her waist, flung his leg over hers and whispered in her ear, “Lie still or I’ll bed you fast enough.”

  Sara stiffened against him, which didn’t help him any since it forced her bottom to press harder against him.

  He groaned.

  Sara moaned.

  The next thing he felt was Sara’s hand wandering down near his leg or was it her leg her fingers reached for when—

  “Ow!”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pinch you,” Sara said frantically.

  “Then
whom did you mean to pinch, yourself?” he hissed in her ear.

  “Yes,” she said on a sorrowful moan.

  Chapter 9

  “I’m not going to ask why,” Cullen said.

  “That’s good, since I don’t intend to explain,” Sara said, annoyed. She had gotten so hot and bothered feeling the length of him against her, smelling the earthy scent of him and feeling content in his arms, that if she hadn’t accidentally pinched him, she’d have attacked him. And that wouldn’t do since he’d already assumed she wanted him. Besides, with so much talk of Alaina, she was feeling guilty about having forced him to bed her, let alone forced him to wed her.

  “You are a strange one,” he whispered in her ear.

  “That I am,” she agreed, though if she was not mistaken, it sounded as if he admired her for it. “We should sleep.”

  His yawn agreed, and while she felt his body go limp and a slight snore drift from his lips, she remained wide awake, her mind lost in a clutter of thoughts. Two days she had known this man she called husband, yet surprisingly, she felt as if she’d known him many years. Hour by hour he had become more familiar to her, and she admired and respected what she’d learned about him.

  Guilt continued to weigh heavily upon her. Here was a man who searched for his son after losing the most precious love of his life, and she forced him to marry her.

  But hadn’t God sent him to her? She’d prayed so very hard, and hadn’t He answered her prayers? Who was she to question the wisdom of the Heavens? Cullen had probably prayed as hard to find his son as she to find a husband. And while she would have accepted whatever man was sent, he would have accepted whatever was necessary to find his son.

  They would make it through this bargain, she thought, for it was the answer to both their prayers. Guilt would serve no purpose, nor would regret. What was done was done, and what would be done would be done. She had to accept that this bargain was right for them, and she believed that Alaina would have felt the same. This bargain would reunite father and son, which is what Alaina had wanted.

  A bevy of thoughts continued to haunt Sara until, finally exhausted, she fell into a heavy slumber.

  She woke with a wide stretch and jolted up in bed when she realized she was alone. The cottage was empty, the fire cold, and the blanket tucked around her. She fingered the coarse heavy wool and thought how Cullen must have taken the time to tuck the blanket around her after getting out of bed.

  A thoughtful gesture that touched her heart.

  She finished her stretch with a yawn and bounced out of bed to slip on her boots and busy herself rolling up the blankets. She felt refreshed, though suspected she’d gotten only a few hours sleep. She was eager to continue their journey, eager to return home, and that alone was enough to renew her spirit.

  Sara freshened her face with several splashes of the now cooled water in the caldron and ran her fingers through her curly hair. She couldn’t wait to get home and wear other garments, rather than only the plain skirt and blouse that had been her wardrobe for the last two years. She and her sister had spent winters huddled before a fire talking, laughing, and stitching some fine garments. It would be nice to have a selection to choose from once again.

  The door burst open and Cullen entered without any snow flurries.

  “The sun shines bright and the snow melts fast,” he announced. “By noon I wouldn’t be surprised if there was not a trace of it left on the ground.” He grabbed for their few parcels. “I say we leave right now and make the most of the daylight.”

  “Agreed,” Sara said. “I’ll grab some bread to nibble on along the way.”

  “Grab some for me too while I gather the horses.”

  Sara had bread enough for both of them, and handed Cullen his share after they mounted their horses.

  “We’ll keep a steady pace, stop to rest the horses, then be on the road again. I’d prefer not to stop until near nightfall.”

  “That is fine with me, but we need to take the bend in the road up ahead—”

  “I know,” Cullen said with a nod. “I recalled this morning my father taking me on a trip to deliver bows he had made for a Laird McFurst—”

  “The Clan McFurst borders our land to the north.”

  “I recalled my father mentioning the Clan McHern, and I remember a market we passed through where he treated me to a sweet cake. A memorable, mouthwatering treat.”

  “Two days journey from here.”

  “Good,” he said with a smile. “I will buy you a sweet cake.”

  Sara nibbled on the dry bread, her mind on the sweet cake. It wasn’t the cake she actually gave thought to, but that he would buy her one. No man had ever bought her anything, had ever even given her anything. She felt a tug at her heart and warned herself not to think anything more about Cullen’s simple act of kindness.

  After the bend in the road, the path opened wider and Sara directed her horse beside Cullen’s stallion.

  “Your father, the man who raised you, was a bow maker?”

  Cullen grinned. “He made the finest bows and arrows you’d ever know, and was as skillful in using them as he was in making them. I recall him telling me that patience was the key to a fine bow maker and a skillful archer.”

  “And are you patient?”

  “What do you think?”

  Sara erupted in a spurt of laughter. “I think you have patience with a bow and arrow and nothing more.”

  Surprisingly, Cullen laughed along with her. “I believe my father would agree with you.”

  “You cared for the man who raised you,” she said softly.

  “He was the only father I knew. The only person who treated me kindly and cared for me.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He took ill. I cared for him, though he told me to go and make my way now that he had taught me all the skills I needed to survive.”

  “But you didn’t leave him.”

  Cullen shook his head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. He had taken me in when I was ten. He taught me that there are caring people in this world. It was my turn to care for him, and I did. Once he passed and I saw to a proper burial, I left and made my way as he wanted me to.”

  “Then he was a true father to you.”

  Cullen nodded. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

  Sara thought about him being ten, alone and frightened, taken in by a man who probably gave all his time to his bow making. He no doubt took Cullen in to help him, and somehow along the way, the older man began to care for the lonely lad and offered him what he could in the way of caring. He taught him how to survive.

  In a way, the strange pair had helped each other much like she and Cullen did now. They would give each other what was needed and then part ways.

  “Tell me more about your childhood,” she asked curiously.

  “Nothing much to tell.”

  “I’ll tell you about mine,” she offered, and in minutes she had Cullen laughing with tales of a rambunctious girl who forever was off doing what she pleased.

  Near noon, they found a secluded spot by a stream where the horses could rest and quench their thirsts and they could feast on dried meat and cheese.

  “You chatter endlessly,” Cullen said, brushing crumbs off his hands. “I don’t think you’ve been silent once since we left the cottage.”

  “What do you expect? I’ve been in an abbey for two years.”

  Cullen grinned and shook his head. “Somehow I don’t see that stopping you from chatting.”

  Sara shook her head. “How do you get to know anything if you don’t talk with people? It makes no sense to sit idly by and not partake of life. You didn’t, and either did Alaina. I respect her for going against her father and loving whom she chose to love. If she hadn’t, she would have never tasted love at its finest.”

  “Yet you admonished me for not loving her enough to leave her so that she would be safe.”

  Sara shrugged. “I believe true love can never separate couples. They will alwa
ys find a way back to each other against all odds. Therefore, even had you left Alaina, she would have found her way back to you. Love would not have permitted your separation, and of course, it didn’t. Even with you in prison and Alaina imprisoned by her father, love found a way to reunite you both. I merely wanted to know if you had given the question thought. I never believed it was a viable solution.”

  Cullen rubbed mindlessly at his chin.

  “You did give it thought, didn’t you?”

  His hand fisted tightly as it fell to his side. “How could I not? I was responsible for her protection, and yet I was putting her in harm’s way. What kind of man was I?”

  “A man in love. In love enough to let her go, and she in love enough to refuse to let you go.”

  Cullen shook his head. “You truly are perceptive.”

  “It’s more logic than anything.”

  “On the contrary, nothing is logical.”

  “Love displaces logic, or so it seems from what I’ve observed,” she said, dropping her head back and allowing the sun’s warmth to toast her face.

  “I need to be logical now,” he said quite firmly.

  Sara turned to look at him. His handsome face had taken on a worried appearance. “But you are being logical. You wed me so you could find your son.”

  “Some would believe that stupid.”

  Sara frowned. “Someone who cared naught for their child. Only an unselfish parent would sacrifice so much for their child. I admire your courage.” A sudden smile quickly swallowed her frown. “Of course, I also admire your surrender for the greater good.”

  Cullen burst into laughter. “You so amuse me.”

  “Good, surrender will be that much easier for you.” She chuckled like a young lass teasing a young lad.

  “That, you can count on,” he said, and grabbed quick hold of her shoulders to tumble her back on the blanket while his mouth came down on hers.

  Sara gasped, leaving her mouth open, vulnerable, and he took full advantage, hitting his target dead on. His tongue mated with hers in frenzied madness before slowing to an erotic pace that had her panting and writhing beneath him.

  Damn, if the man wasn’t a great marksman. One shot and he had her.