Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  Nor could he possibly wish to kiss her any more than he did this instant.

  She pursed her lips, still pouting, and her expression was as sullen as that of a child who had been deprived of her tarts. “That was the first time in two years that cat has deigned to come near me and ye’ve gone and spoiled it, Colin Mac Brodie!”

  She was back to calling him by his full name.

  He lifted his brow.

  “She’s like to never even look at me again, so just wipe that stupid grin off your face!” she demanded of him.

  Colin tried. He truly did. To no avail.

  “What are ye doin’ here anyhow, Mac Brodie?”

  Colin’s grin turned wry, then, and his cheeks warmed just a bit. “I came to bring ye the pot still,” he disclosed, feeling rather sheepish all of a sudden.

  She lifted her head from her hands and cocked her head, inspecting him. “Aye, well, where is it, then?”

  Colin’s lips twisted. “Hmmm… that’s a verra good question.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And the answer is?”

  “I forgot it.”

  She lifted a brow, suddenly looking far too smug for Colin’s liking. “You forgot it?”

  Colin nodded.

  “Och, and just when did ye notice that, Mac Brodie?”

  “Well, now, I was distracted by worry,” he told her, in an attempt to avert her attention.

  “Whyever for?”

  “Because ye were supposed to come and get the pot still this morn,” Colin reminded her. “Or did ye forget?”

  Seana shook her head, and cradled it once more within her palm, looking suddenly hopeless.

  “I was going to get the pot still later this noon,” she disclosed, sounding disheartened. “I wanted to see Broc this morn… but I could not bring myself to go,” she confessed with a dispirited sigh.

  Colin sat up to face her. “Why not?”

  Not that he particularly wanted her to go see Broc, but he did wish to know why she’d not been able to. And he dared to hope it had the tiniest bit to do with him.

  She shrugged.

  Colin found himself staring at her lips whilst she spoke.

  “Because I’m a coward,” she said low, but didn’t avert her gaze. “That’s why!”

  Colin’s heart began to beat a little faster.

  He dared to move nearer, drawn by those delicious lips as though he were a poppet with strings.

  “Nay, lass,” he murmured. “Ye are not.”

  There were not so many women who could overcome so much and end so strong and full with life. She was beautiful from her heart to those luscious lips of hers, and he had been a foolish, foolish blind lad who could not see past her imperfect legs. What a dolt he had been, then… and what a price to pay now.

  She would not even consider him, and he didn’t blame her. He was beginning to see himself through the eyes of others and he wasn’t certain he liked what he saw.

  “Aye,” she argued. “I am! Ye dinna know how important this is to me,” she revealed, “and still I cannot do it!”

  Those green eyes of hers turned liquid, and Colin wanted to kiss them closed, to taste the salt of her tears on his tongue. “You’re no coward, Seana.”

  “I will never be wed,” she lamented.

  “Och, lass… any man would be a fool not to want you.”

  She blinked at his words, and then her brows twitched and she lowered her gaze. Colin knew she didn’t believe him.

  He reached out to touch her chin with a finger, intending to lift her face to his, to make her see the truth of his words, but he found himself caressing her soft skin.

  She didn’t protest, and he didn’t withdraw.

  His heart began to hammer now, and his belly fluttered.

  What would she do if he pulled her down into his arms?

  Would she fight him?

  Would she slap his face and hie away?

  Or would she melt into his body and let him make love to her?

  Her stark green eyes met his, and for an instant, Colin lost his breath. Nor could he find words to speak.

  Her guard was down. Desire was there; he recognized it in her eyes, but there, too, he saw confusion. There was a vulnerability in those vivid green eyes that made him yearn to protect her from everything and everyone—including himself.

  She deserved better than him.

  She wanted better than him.

  She wanted Broc Ceannfhionn.

  Seana’s heart stopped at the gentleness of his caress. She leaned her face into his hand. Never in her wildest imaginings would she have envisioned this moment between them. And to feel it… the tenderness in his touch… to see the warmth in his eyes… stole her breath and left her without rational thought.

  Her belly fluttered when he moved to cup her entire cheek in his palm. The gesture was such an affectionate one that she was momentarily dizzy with it. Not even her da had ever touched her face with affection… no man had ever even looked at her that way.

  Seana closed her eyes and placed her hand upon his, slipping her fingers between her face and his hand, only beginning to pry it away for she had not the will to wrench it free. Her heart beat frantically.

  “Seana,” he whispered.

  Seana opened her eyes, facing him. He had once been her tormenter, now he was her friend…

  The look in his eyes implied so much more… and Seana had to still her pounding heart lest it betray her.

  This was Colin Mac Brodie, she reminded herself—the very man she should never trust.

  What was wrong with her that she could forget all that had passed between them over a simple touch?

  How could she react to him so foolishly?

  And the very worst of it was that… it was apparent that, though she denied it, she longed for him still and it terrified her.

  Seana swallowed hard.

  She couldn’t, for an instant, breathe.

  “You’re beautiful, Seana,” he whispered.

  Seana’s hand trembled over his. She wanted more than aught to wrench it away from her face—wanted more than that to feel his caress forever.

  She was weak—Oh, God—and far too hungry for what his eyes seemed to promise.

  “And you’re the bravest lass I know,” he assured, his eyes piercing the armor of her heart. “Look at you,” he demanded. “Ye have regained the use o’ both your legs…”

  She jerked his hand away, her heart twisting over his words.

  “I have always had the use o’ my legs,” she reminded him bitterly, “you just didna like the way they worked!”

  “Och!” he continued, ignoring her, “and ye have a da who willna leave his cups long enough to even feed his daughter—”

  That was exactly what Seana needed to hear to push him away. Anger filled her. She surged to her feet.

  “What do ye know of my da, Colin Mac Brodie? Ye know naught about my father! Ye have no right to even speak o’ him!”

  He didn’t respond, but merely sat there, daring to look dumbfounded by her outburst and Seana wanted to slap his arrogant face.

  “Let me tell ye about my father,” she said. Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t help it. “It was my da who wiped away my tears when you called me a lame witch!” He winced and Seana continued. “Aye, and it was my da who found the strength to break my leg!” She motioned to her limbs. “To make me better! And it was my da who nursed me ’til I was strong. Aye!” she shouted down at him, when he blinked in surprise. “So dinna ever speak another bloody word against my father, Colin Mac Brodie, or I… I…”

  Seana wanted to kick him, but he sat there looking so bloody regretful and so full of apology that she couldn’t even find the hate she had once used to protect her heart from him.

  “I dinna ever wish to speak to you again!’’ she told him, using anger as her shield. “Get away from me and dinna ever come near me again!”

  And with that Seana left him—before he could speak to defend himself—befo
re she could be persuaded to believe him. She fled the glade, running back to the cairn as fast as her legs could carry her.

  She didn’t need his help.

  She didn’t wish to ever see him again!

  It wasn’t safe.

  Colin Mac Brodie was a rotten scoundrel and she’d do well never to set eyes upon him again.

  It was Broc she wanted, Broc who would make the best husband.

  So why couldn’t she stop her tears?

  Seana could scarce see the path before her for through her tears. She made her way home by instinct, needing more than anything to seek comfort from her father.

  Her da would know what to do. He would know what to say to dry her tears. Och, but she truly didn’t know what she would do without him.

  Chapter 18

  Reluctantly, Colin let her go.

  He sat and watched her disappear yet again, feeling powerless to stop her. He didn’t know what to say. He had been a rotten bastard to injure her so deeply but he didn’t know how to set things right.

  His heart felt heavy and his conscience was heavier than his heart.

  Seana deserved better than he could ever give her. He was his father’s son, wholly, and she deserved to die an old woman in her bed, without the grief in her heart that his mother had borne. She deserved a devoted husband at her side, cherishing her always.

  If he could give that to her, he would… but he couldn’t.

  But he could help give it to her…

  Broc was a fine man, with a pure heart—even if he was too focused on his duties to notice a woman’s affections lest it smack him in the head.

  Well, Colin intended to do just that… to give Seana what she wanted so desperately.

  Lifting himself from the bracken soft ground, he went in search of Broc the blond.

  “Da?”

  Her father didn’t respond, and Seana’s chest tightened painfully.

  She’d found him lying in utter darkness and she lit another taper to bring to his bedside, her heart hammering with fear as she inspected him.

  He lay as still as Seana had ever seen him lay and she had to put her hand to his breast to even sense his heart beat. His face was pale, as well. She placed a hand to his forehead and found his skin damp and hot.

  Fever.

  “Father,” she whispered and still he didn’t respond. Seana shook his shoulder gently, trying to wake him, needing the reassurance of his gaze.

  He stirred, then, but scarcely.

  “Nay,” he said to her, and the sound was almost a rasp.

  Heart pounding, Seana leaned closer to hear him. “Da,” she prodded him.

  “Dinna… cry,” he told her a bit deliriously, though he didn’t bother to open his eyes. He shook his head. “Dinna cry, Seana…”

  “Da…” Seana whined softly, fear taking a greater hold upon her heart. “What’s the matter, Da?” She shook him again, harder this time and his lashes fluttered open.

  Seana thought he saw her, but he gave her the queerest look. She had never seen him appear so… incoherent. Even when he’d been sodden with drink, he’d never appeared so confused.

  “Seana… child… I did not mean to…” He stopped to swallow, and it seemed difficult for him. “I dinna mean to leave you so long,” he finished, and gasped for a breath. He reached out to touch her face. “I dinna like to hear you weepin’, “ he said in a whisper, his old green eyes cloudy.

  Seana tried not to cry. She patted his face lovingly. “Tell me what to do,” she demanded of him. “Tell me how to help ye,” she begged. “What ails ye, Da?”

  “I’m… tired,” he murmured, and closed his eyes again. His head lolled to one side.

  “Da!” Seana cried out. Her heart thudded to a halt. “Da!” He didn’t respond and she slapped a little more firmly at his face. She had no notion whatsoever how to help him—particularly when she had no notion what ailed him to begin with.

  Panic set in.

  He wouldn’t wake up, and Seana didn’t know what to do. She knew nothing at all about nursing the sick!

  She took his jaw into her hand, and almost burst into tears once more because he felt so frail. “Da!” she cried again. When he didn’t waken, she tried to bundle him to her in an attempt to lift him but frail tho’ he might be, he was still far too heavy for her to lift. Seana set him back down and tucked him in, her mind reeling.

  What was she supposed to do now?

  She couldn’t just let him lay there and die!

  If she couldn’t lift him, she had to go for help. It was the only thing to do, but she didn’t wish to leave him. What if he should perish while she was gone?

  Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Da,” she said on a sob, and then rose to her feet, staring helplessly down at him.

  What should she do?

  If she stood here doing nothing then he would surely die. She had to go after help. It was the only solution.

  He shivered and she gathered all his blankets at once, then piled them over him, tucking him in as securely as she was able. He had to stay warm. And she must hurry! Where to go for help? Her first thought was of Colin. For her father’s sake, she couldn’t afford to harbor anger toward him. She couldn’t think of anyone else to ask for help.

  The MacKinnons were nearer. Maybe Broc would be there? Her heart beat frantically as she tried to decide what to do.

  The MacKinnons were nearer, she acknowledged again.

  She gave her da a kiss upon the brow and caressed his cheek with a trembling hand. “I’ll be back verra soon,” she promised, and ran to seek help, praying she wouldn’t be too late.

  “Aye, Seana. Do ye recall her?” Colin asked.

  Broc sat upon a stool, whittling away at a stick, and seemed deep in contemplation, despite that he was taking great pains to appear pleased by Colin’s visit. “Who?” he asked, glancing up.

  Colin frowned down at him. Broc’s stick was quickly becoming naught but a stubby little point. “Seana.”

  Broc continued to whittle fiercely… almost as though he were venting frustration and Colin watched him curiously, wondering at his thoughts. He had been quiet from the moment Colin had arrived, pleasant, but contemplative. His attention had been for his cousin alone, who was now seated upon his arse against a stone wall, looking just as preoccupied as Broc appeared.

  “Donal the drunk’s daughter,” Colin replied and felt a pang of guilt repeating the epithet, despite that Seana was not around to hear it. She had been so defensive of her da. Colin had not meant to hurt her, merely take her defense against her da’s neglect. He’d only intended her to see how extraordinary a woman she had become.

  Broc nodded now. “Oh, yah,” he said, giving Colin a strange look before returning his attention to his cousin.

  Not that Colin truly wished to speak to Broc about Seana, but he was growing annoyed over their present conversation… or lack of it.

  “What of her?” Broc asked suddenly.

  Colin peered down to see that Broc was watching him curiously now. “What do ye think of her?” he forced himself to ask.

  “She’s a sweet lass, of course,” was Broc’s immediate reply. And he winked up at Colin.

  Colin grit his teeth at the wink. She certainly was sweet, but he suddenly found himself wondering just how much time the two of them had spent together, and the possibility of what they had done during that time gnawed at his gut.

  “Pretty too,” Broc added.

  Colin frowned. “Aye… how well do ye know her?” he couldn’t keep himself from asking, and knew he sounded territorial.

  Broc’s expression turned more curious still. “Well enough,” he replied.

  Colin felt suddenly impatient with his friend’s answers.

  “What do you think o’ her is the question?” Broc countered, suddenly eyeing him pointedly. One brow rose… in challenge, Colin thought.

  He suddenly didn’t wish to discuss Seana any longer. Damned if he wanted to fight with his old
friend, but God’s teeth, neither did he want Broc to have any interest in Seana. In truth, he didn’t think he wanted to know what Broc thought of her.

  He did want to help Seana get what she most wanted—the problem was… it was in direct opposition to what he most wanted and he couldn’t quite bring himself to cast his treasures into another man’s arms.

  “What’s with Cameron?” Colin asked, in an attempt to change the subject—before he grew angry enough with his best friend to twist off his nuts. He didn’t like what he was feeling this moment. Never in his life had he been so gut-wrenched with jealousy over a woman—and over a woman that wasn’t even his, nor did she want to be, at that! What the devil ailed him?

  He’d never been a jealous. He wasn’t even certain whether he’d ever experienced the emotion, but in any case he damned well didn’t like it.

  “I’m not sure,” Broc said, returning his attention to his brooding cousin.

  Colin returned to his brooding as well.

  As far as he had always been concerned, if any woman wanted him—and he hadn’t met many who didn’t—that was fine with him. And if they didn’t want him, there were too many who did for him to pine over one he might not.

  Seana was different.

  Seana was… Seana.

  She wasn’t at all like other women.

  She was brave and she was bold and she was bright and full of passion. She was stubborn, too—and she made him smile, even when she wasn’t trying to…

  He found himself smiling now, simply at the thought of her…

  Her sauciness amused him, and her decisive way of dealing with her life made him admire her as he hadn’t admired many men. She hadn’t taken her lameness as an excuse to sit and wither in some dark place until she was old and too haggard to care how people felt about her. Nay, but she didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. She made her own way, will ye, nil ye, and to hell with whomever didn’t like it.

  “He’s been acting strangely,” Broc disclosed.

  For an instant, Colin was too lost in his own thoughts to realize of whom Broc spoke.

  “How so?” he asked, once he understood it was Cameron.