by Bree Wolf
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.
Sent after two runaways, Garrett, Ian and Finn had travelled to Gretna Green and then split up to locate the youngsters. While Ian and Finn had searched high and low, Garrett had unexpectedly stumbled upon an English lass at the inn’s tavern. Finding himself head over heels in love, Garrett had married her right then and there, taking advantage of the presence of an anvil priest that night at the inn. Upon morning, he had left his sleeping wife to seek out Ian and Finn, who had in the meantime located the runaways. Finn remembered well the guilt that had stood on Garrett’s face as he had apologised for abandoning them in their quest. Still, his face had been aglow, and Finn had seen with one glance that he was in love.
Happy for his friend, Finn had congratulated Garrett and urged him to introduce them to his new bride. Garrett had been more than eager to do so. However, upon returning to their room, he had found her gone with no note to explain her whereabouts. Only from the innkeeper, they had learnt that her brother, an English lord, had come to Gretna Green and taken her back to England.
As far as Finn knew, the young lady had run off to Gretna Green with another, intending to marry him. Somehow, however, that marriage had not come to be and then her path had crossed Garrett’s.
Glancing at his friend, Finn wondered if Garrett was worried that his new bride’s family was less than happy to learn of their new connections and understood well his desire to be off and go after her.
Only Ian seemed less than sympathetic with Garrett’s current situation.
“Where will ye go?” Finn asked, handing a log to Garrett before picking one up himself. “Where will ye start looking for her?”
Garrett shrugged. “I dunno know where her family’s estate is, but Cormag suggested I speak to Lord Tynham, Maggie’s brother. He might be able to help, perhaps even know her family.”
Finn nodded before they split ways and each knocked on another door. He had all but forgotten that Ian’s wife, Maggie, had grown up in England, the daughter of an English lord, who had passed away a few years back, leaving his title and estate to Maggie’s older brother. After all, considering Maggie’s speech and mannerism, it was only too easy not to see her as an English lady but as a Scottish lass. Soon after her arrival at Seann Dachaigh Tower, home of her mother’s clan, the Highlands had stolen her heart and turned her into a true Scot.
In the beginning, Finn had wondered if it had been Ian’s doing. If it had been their love that had made her feel at home in the Highlands in such a profound way. However, lately, Finn had begun to have doubts.
Truth be told, Ian looked far from happy these days. His comments with regard to Garrett’s situation proved that all the more.
“Perhaps I should go with ye,” Finn heard himself say when he and Garrett returned to the cart.
Garrett frowned. “Go with me? To England, ye mean?”
Finn nodded, heaving a deep sigh as Emma’s image drifted into his mind. “Aye, to England.” At first, it had only been Ian who’d been married and become a father, but now that Garrett, too, had lost his heart and married, Finn began to dread his own future with each passing day. For to him, it seemed that he would be forever doomed to yearn for a woman who did not want him. Would he never marry and have children of his own? Would he remain alone forever?
That thought sent a cold chill into his bones. As much as he wanted Emma, he knew he could not have her. But perhaps he could try and lose his heart to another. Somewhere, out in the world, there might be a woman who would could sweep him off his feet the same way Garrett’s English lass had done for him.
Perhaps.
So far he had not found her during his visits to Clan MacKinnear. Was that because she was waiting for him in England? Or right here at home?
“Why?” Garrett asked, breaking into Finn’s thoughts. “Ye’ve never spoken of going to England before. What brought on this thought?”
Finn sighed, “I…I…To tell ye the truth, I want what ye’ve already found,” he told Garrett honestly. “I listen to the way ye speak about yer wife and I know that…”
Garrett nodded, grasping Finn’s shoulder as he turned to look at him. “I understand what ye mean. Love’s powerful.” Shaking his head, he laughed. “It claimed me whole in a single night, and I tell ye honestly I didna see it coming.”
Finn smiled, wishing his heart would simply have hope instead of reminding him of that one morning seven years ago when he had first noticed Emma.
“What about Emma?”
At Garrett’s question, Finn flinched, wondering if Garrett, too, had developed the ability to read another’s mind. Swallowing, he tried his best to pretend that his heart had not just danced wildly in his chest. “What about her?”
The corner of Garrett’s mouth curled upward into a suspicious grin. “Dunno pretend that ye dunno care for the lass.”
As his muscles clenched in shock, Finn tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “What gave ye that idea? I barely know her.”
Garrett laughed, “And I had never met my wife until the night of our wedding.” He shook his head. “Nah, love doesna care about time, or right and wrong. It simply is…or not.” For a split second, he glanced at Ian, and Finn wondered if he knew more than Ian had shared with him. “What about that kiss?”
Again, Finn flinched, annoyed with his inability to maintain a calm exterior. How did Cormag do it? Or did he truly never feel anything remotely resembling that which currently waged war in Finn’s chest? “What kiss? Ye mean that quick peg seven years ago? That wasna a kiss! ‘Twas nothing but a dare.”
The moment the grin slid off Garrett’s face, Finn wanted to kick himself for saying more than he had meant to.
“A dare?” Garrett asked, straightening as he had only just now leaned down to pick up another log. “Ye never told us that. How long have ye known?”
Finn shrugged, looking down at the snow-covered ground as the memory of that morning returned fresh and clear. “I’ve always known.”
“Ye followed her that morning,” Garrett mumbled, and Finn could feel his friend’s eyes on him. “Did she tell ye that?”
Sighing, Finn met Garrett’s gaze. “Nah, I overhead her speaking to her friends. She only did it to win the dare. ‘Twas nothing more.”
Garrett’s gaze narrowed. “But ‘twas for ye, was it not?” Finn scoffed, ready to deny his friend’s suspicions with all the vehemence he could muster, but Garrett cut him off. “Why else would the lass affect ye so? Why else do ye keep
glaring at her as though she’s put a hex on ye? Why else do ye interfere with her life?”
Too thunderstruck to think straight, Finn gawked at his friend. “What?” was all he could manage.
“Last year,” Garret supplied helpfully, his gaze narrowed as he watched Finn with a Cormag-like intensity, “ye told that fellow from Clan MacKinnear…what was his name?…Hamish, aye…ye told Hamish MacKinnear that the lass was promised. Why did ye do that when ye knew full well that it wasna true? Ye didna like the way he kept looking at her. Ye didna like it one bit. The glower ye always have about ye when she’s near was never as dark as then. Admit it, ye care for her.”
Overwhelmed at having all this pulled out into the open, Finn retreated a few paces when Ian drew near and reached for another log. Again, he glared at them before ploughing on through the snow to the next cottage while Cormag led the horse and cart a bit farther down the road.
“So, ‘tis true then?” Garrett asked, a bit of a smug smile on his face as he stepped up to Finn. “Ye care for her? If that is so, why do ye wish to leave?”
“I never said I cared for her,” Finn hissed under his breath as his hands curled into fists, trying desperately to hold on to his composure. “’Twas only a misunderstanding.”
Garrett laughed, “Ye can say what ye wish, Finn, but no one glares at another like that without deep emotions. The lass must’ve truly gotten to ye. Why else would ye care what she does or who she marries?”
At the thought, every fibre in Finn’s body tensed to the point of breaking, and for a long moment, he simply stood and stared at Garrett.
“Aye, I can see very well that she means nothing to ye,” his friend mocked. “A bit of advice, dunno wait too long. One of these days, ye willna succeed in turning away a suitor, and then she’ll be lost to ye. Why do ye think I married Claudia right then and there on the spot?” A large grin on his face, Garrett sighed. “She’s a fierce woman, beautiful and strong and so…so verra alive. I knew another man might snatch her up in an instant, and so I claimed her as my own as fast as I could. No matter where she is, I will find her and remind her that she’s mine…as I am hers.” Garrett’s eyes sobered. “Ye’d be wise to do the same…if indeed ye care for her.” Then he stepped away and hurried after the cart, bending down to work again as a more-than-annoyed Ian glared at him.
“Ye’d do well to heed his advice.”
Spinning around, Finn found Cormag standing behind him. “How long have ye been there?”
“Not long,” Cormag replied, and yet, it seemed he knew all there was to know as he generally did. He inhaled a slow breath as his gaze once more travelled over Finn as though he was trying to make sense of something. “What does she mean to ye?”
Finn gritted his teeth, uncertain how he felt about the path his friends were urging him to take.
“I see,” Cormag replied, seemingly satisfied with the answer he had glimpsed on Finn’s face. Then he sighed, a hint of exhaustion coming to his grey eyes.
“What is it?” Finn asked, wishing he could read others as well as Cormag could, particularly Emma.
Cormag shrugged. “I canna help but wonder why people are so vehement in pretending that they dunno care, for it only seems to complicate matters.”
Finn sighed. Leave it to Cormag to turn a heart’s fears into a matter of the mind. Then he stopped, his gaze rising to meet his laird’s. “People?” he mumbled, and his traitorous heart thudded loudly in his chest. “Ye said, people. Who did ye mean?”
Cormag’s brows rose, and it was all the answer Finn needed. “Emma?” he whispered as his hands once more balled into fists, willing the hope in his heart to cease its conquest. “Did she…did she say anything to ye?”
“She didna have to,” Cormag replied, “for the lass is as inept at pretending that she doesna care as ye are, Finn.” For a short moment, a rather indulgent smile curved up Cormag’s lips before he turned and walked away, returning to their task at hand.
Swallowing, Finn stared after him. Could it be true? Was there a chance that Emma harboured sentiments other than indifference and disregard for him? Whenever he saw her, she never turned to look at him, and whenever their eyes happened to meet, she always turned away with such haste as though the very sight of him offended her. Could there be another reason for her reaction as there was another reason for his own?
Certainly, he did not hate her. He hated that she did not care for him. That she had led him to believe that she did but had then crushed his hopes without a look back.
Or had he been wrong?
Intrigued and−heavens, yes!−hopeful, Finn knew that he needed to see her, perhaps even speak to her before he decided to leave. If he did not, he would spend the rest of his life wondering what could have been.
Chapter Three
Out into the Snow
With only one day left until the annual yuletide feast at Seann Dachaigh Tower, the whole castle was abuzz: the hum of voices and hurrying feet echoing through the grand hall like bees in a hive. Furniture was moved to make room for rows upon rows of tables, all of which were in need of decorating to match the festive mood stirred by evergreens hung up in archways and around windows alike.
Emma and Maggie had spent the past two days decorating the hall, tying bows and stars fashioned out of straw into the evergreen branches to brighten up the castle. Still, Maggie was not satisfied, and a dark scowl came to her face when her eyes swept over the still-barren tables. “This won’t do,” she stated matter-of-factly, arms akimbo. “We need more branches.”
Emma sighed, her fingers beginning to feel numb. “We dunno have any more.” She gestured to the lush decorations around the hall. “I think ‘tis enough, Maggie. Ye did a fine job. Ye should be proud.”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Maggie shook her head, disapproval clear in her blue eyes.
Due to her enthusiasm and utter commitment to the task, Maggie had taken over the planning of the yuletide feast five years ago…almost upon arriving in Scotland. At first, people had frowned at the young English lass, but soon everyone had been delighted with the way she flitted around the castle like a fairy, brightening everything she touched, her eyes aglow with joy.
Today, Maggie was as much a Scot as any one of them, and people often shook their heads at the thought that she had not grown up in the Highlands. A minor detail, Maggie generally called it. A detail to be neglected.
By now, people tended to agree.
“We need more branches,” Maggie stated once more, and Emma knew better than to argue. “Niall, Blair,” she called her children, who came rushing up with excitement, hoping to be entrusted with an important task. “Go find yer father. We need to go out into the woods to cut more branches.” The children squealed with delight and immediately set off. “And tell him to bring Garrett and Finn,” Maggie yelled after them.
Emma froze at the thought of Finn accompanying them. Generally, they tended to stay out of each other’s way, only stumbling upon the other by accident.
“Dunno look so shocked,” Maggie chided as she handed Emma her heavy winter cloak and then reached for her own as well as her children’s. “I told ye ye needed to speak to him. Today is as good a day as any.”
Staring at her friend, Emma swallowed. “Ye want me to talk to him?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Were ye not listening? What have we been talking about these past days?” Stepping closer, she held Emma’s gaze. “Aye, I want ye to talk to him.”
“But…” Emma could feel her skin crawl at the thought of Finn’s glaring green eyes. “I thought…perhaps in the new year. I mean there’s no rush, is there?”
“Aye, there is,” Maggie objected as she rushed down the corridor leading out into the courtyard.
Pulling her cloak around herself, Emma hastened after her. “There is? Why? What do ye mean?”
As they stepped out into the cold, they saw Maggie’s children running toward them, their father in their tow…as well as Garrett, Finn…an
d Vaughn. Emma groaned inwardly.
“What were ye thinking rushing outside without bundling up first?” Maggie chided her children, their noses bright red from the cold. Quickly, she wrapped Blair in a warm winter cloak and handed Niall his lined coat. “Ye’ll be sorry when we’re all at the feast and ye’ll be in bed with a cold.”
Shock widened the children’s eyes; however, only for a moment. Soon, they were running through the snow once more, giggling and laughing.
“What did ye mean?” Emma whispered in Maggie’s ear as she watched the men approach, wondering at the way Finn glared not at her, but at Vaughn instead. Dimly, she wondered what the young man had done to draw Finn’s wrath. She doubted he had stolen a kiss as well. In fact, his eyes were on her, and a large smile drew up the corners of his mouth.
Emma sighed, disappointment filling her heart.
While Finn did little else but glare in her direction if, indeed, he paid her any attention, Vaughn always smiled at her, his eyes lighting up with joy. In fact, he had been smiling at her for a while now, and Emma was beginning to think that soon he might muster the courage to ask for her hand. Still, Emma could not deny that Vaughn’s warm brown eyes never managed to set her blood on fire the way Finn’s dark green blaze did.
Oh, why could she not have lost her heart to Vaughn instead?
“Ian told me,” Maggie whispered as they descended the front steps, “that Finn asked to accompany Garret to England.”
Emma froze as though the snow around her feet had suddenly frozen into a block of ice, stopping her progress.
Turning back, Maggie looked at her, a teasing smile coming to her lips. “Aye, I can see that he means nothing to ye.”
Swallowing, Emma reached for Maggie’s arm and pulled her to her side. “Why?” was all she could ask as her heart beat painfully in her chest at the thought of Finn disappearing from her life.
Maggie’s face sobered, and her blue eyes shone with compassion. “To find himself a bride.”