Banished & Welcomed: The Laird's Reckless Wife (Love's Second Chance Book 14)

by Bree Wolf

  More than he had.

  And then Cormag stared in shock as Ian lunged himself onto the wolf’s back and sank his blade deep into its flank. The animal howled in pain and slumped forward, landing hard on Moira. Her eyes rolled backwards, and all colour drained from her face.

  Ian’s arms and legs came around the snarling beast, and he rolled them sideways, off Moira and toward the cliff face. His eyes were closed as he held on tight, waiting for the animal’s strength to wane.

  But so, did his own.

  Still, Ian held on, never releasing his hold even for a second as the animal struggled to regain the upper hand. They rolled through the dirt and over small rocks jutting out of the hard ground. A groan left Ian’s lips, and Cormag saw him grit his teeth.

  Without thought, Cormag changed direction and then hastened toward his friend, knowing that Ian would not last much longer.

  And then the wolf conjured his last bit of strength, twisting to free itself, and flipped sideways…over the edge.

  The moment man and wolf went over the side of the cliff, Ian opened his eyes and for a long second they met Cormag’s.

  Guilt and shame and remorse lay in their blue depths, but below those, Cormag recognised the man who had been his loyal friend all his life.

  And then Ian was gone.

  42

  A Future Foretold

  A scream tore from Moira’s lips as she saw Ian and the wolf disappear.

  Her body ached, and every fibre of her being felt bruised and battered. The deep scratches left by the wolf’s claws stung and burnt, and she began to feel lightheaded, her vision blurring every so often.

  Still, something primal gave her strength, and she managed to push to her hands and knees and scrambled toward the edge.

  Never would Moira have expected that Ian would come to her aid. She had thought herself alone, abandoned. She had thought he had left with Blair, taking his daughter to safety. It seemed that last part was true, but then he had returned for her.

  Moira could not believe it.

  And then she looked up, and her gaze fell on Cormag.

  Still as a statue, he stood at the edge, his upper body leaning forward as he peered down at the sea where the waves crashed mercilessly against the steep rock. The sound of their movement was deafening, and Moira shivered at the thought of what had brought them here this day. Ian had intended for her to end in a watery grave, and now, he had taken her place.

  Still, Moira felt no relief.

  In that moment, she felt nothing, her heart and mind numb from the ordeal she had been through.

  And then Cormag turned to look at her.

  Moira blinked. The spell broke, and the world came rushing back.

  For a moment, nothing made sense. When had Cormag come? Shaking her head, Moira could not recall seeing him. All she had been focused on had been the wolf…until Ian had interfered.

  “Cormag,” she whispered, and the strength that had swelled in her chest only a moment ago vanished as though it had never been. Relief and sadness broke over her, and she slumped down, tears flooding her eyes.

  In an instant, Cormag was there, pulling her gently into his arms, his strength soothing the shivers that gripped her. She clung to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and felt the beat of his heart against the palm of her hand.

  His presence was reassuring, comforting, and Moira felt the panic retreat until only sadness and regret remained. Then she lifted her head and looked up into his dark grey eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as more tears streamed down her face.

  Cormag nodded, his jaw clenched as he reached out and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. “As am I.” Then he pulled her back into his arms, and for a long moment, they simply sat there on the rough ground, their emotions torn between relief and regret, between joy and sadness.

  Aye, Moira was still alive. Although her body ached, she knew she would recover and have a chance at a future with Cormag.

  Still, the price had been steep. Although Ian had been the threat that had loomed over her ever since she had arrived at Seann Dachaigh Tower, Moira had come to understand him. He had not been a bad man, but a misguided one. Not unlike she herself had once been, and she could not help but feel sadness at the loss of his life.

  “Are ye all right?” Cormag asked, his voice thick with emotions barely held in check. He lifted her chin and peered into her eyes before his own wandered lower, taking in the cuts and scrapes covering her body.

  “I will be fine,” Moira assured him as she placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb gently brushing away the lone tear that had escaped his iron will. Her blue eyes held his, and for the first time, he allowed her to see him, to see to the core of his heartbreak and loss, to see the vulnerable heart that beat in his chest and the pain that he suffered. His walls came down, and the trust he placed in her, revealing himself to her unguarded, warmed Moira’s heart.

  “Are ye all right?” Garrett’s rough voice cut through the silent moment, and Moira felt them both flinch. Then she looked up and found her husband’s friend standing not far from them, Blair in his arms, her limbs listless and her red-rimmed eyes staring into nothing as she rested her head on his shoulder. His face was taut, and his green eyes held the same sadness that rested in her own chest.

  Moira nodded, not knowing where they were to go from here. A part of her felt like spending the rest of her life sitting on this cliff, wrapped in her husband’s embrace. Everything else felt…wrong, inappropriate, as though leaving this place without Ian was simply not possible.

  And so, they remained where they were.

  While Cormag tended to Moira’s wounds, following her instructions on how to clean them, Garrett took Blair into the thicket to the northeast to look for firewood. The girl moved without sound, her face haggard and her eyes directed at something only she could see.

  Darkness fell slowly as they huddled together around the fire, shielded from the harsh wind by the outcrop that rose into the sky. Only Blair fell asleep, exhaustion forcing her lids shut, while the rest of them remained awake, unable to abandon the day’s events. Garrett held Blair tightly in his arms, keeping her warm, a father’s watchfulness in his gaze as he looked after her.

  Moira and Cormag clung to one another, holding each other during those first few hours when Ian’s loss slowly sank in, when their hearts and minds warred with the acceptance of it.

  Come morning, they made their way down the slope of land that led to the beach below, unable to leave without seeing the very place where Ian had vanished. Nothing remained of him but their memories. A part of Moira had feared that they would find his body, washed up on the shore, and the thought had pained her throughout the night. She wanted to remember him the way he had been, the way he had looked at Blair, his eyes warm and full of love, the way he had come to her aid, selflessness and determination marking his features.

  Moira wanted to remember the good man he had been, not the weak moments, not the ugliness of death. One glance at Cormag told her that he felt the same, and they all breathed a sigh of relief when they found nothing but an empty beach.

  No sign of Ian or the wolf.

  Hunger finally sent them to their horses, and with heavy hearts, they headed back east, toward home.

  Blair rode with Garrett, and he did his best to distract her, pointing out hares as they dashed through the tall grass or finding shapes in the clouds that drifted past overhead. Now and then, a small smile crossed her little face, and Moira knew that she was trying to move on.

  There was something overwhelmingly strong in that little girl, and in rare moments, Moira could almost glimpse the woman she would one day become.

  Strong and fierce and utterly fearless in her devotion and loyalty to those she loved. Blair would be a force to be reckoned with, and the MacDrummonds would be stronger having her as one of their own.

  “Ye feel warm,” Cormag whispered in Moira’s ear, his arms draped around her as they rode homeward. A
lthough they had retrieved the runaway horse as well as the leisurely grazing pony, there was a need for closeness in all of them.

  Moira sighed, aware of the slight fever that lingered. “I’ll be fine,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “’Twas to be expected. It’ll pass in a day or two.”

  Cormag drew in a slow breath, and Moira knew that there was doubt in him.

  “I promise,” she whispered, turning her head into the crook of his neck and placing a gentle kiss on the echo of his heartbeat there. “How did ye find me?” she asked after a while, wishing to direct his thoughts elsewhere. “How did ye know where Ian had taken me?”

  A slow breath left his body, and for a moment, he did not reply. Then he shifted the reins into one hand before the other moved to grasp hers, his fingers threading through her own. “I felt ye,” he finally whispered, his words brushing across her skin.

  Moira felt herself shiver despite the warmth his words evoked. “Ye felt me? From so far away?”

  “I always feel ye.” His lips brushed against her skin as he spoke, his warm breath increasing the delicious shivers that tingled up and down her body.

  “How could ye be certain ‘twas me?”

  She felt him smile before the tip of his nose skimmed over the soft skin of her neck. “There’s no one like ye,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve felt ye even before I first laid eyes on ye. Only I didna know it then.” His teeth tugged on her earlobe, and Moira drew in a sharp breath. “But I do now, and I’ll never let ye go again. No matter what, ye belong with me as I belong with ye.” His hands tightened possessively on her, and Moira closed her eyes in bliss. “‘Tis the one thing I’m certain of, the one thing that’ll never change.”

  “Aye,” Moira breathed, and her head began to spin, not from the fever, but from the overwhelming certainty that his words were true.

  The Old Ones had foretold a different future, one that had led Moira down a path she could not help but regret. And yet, it had led her here, to this man, to this clan, to this home, and she knew that there was nowhere else she had rather be.

  Epilogue

  Summer 1810

  Almost One Year Later

  The sun shone brightly on the large gathering tucked into a lush valley halfway between Seann Dachaigh Tower and Greyston Castle. Tents had been set up in a wide circle, leaving a large space free where competitions would be held. The soft notes of a fiddle drifted through the early morning air as the people of clan MacDrummond and Brunwood began to rise.

  Moira smiled as she stepped from their tent, her eyes sweeping over the people gathered here, and her heart swelled with love, for her husband had been the one to work tirelessly to bring this about.

  “We were allies once,” Cormag had said countless times to her, to his clan, to clan Brunwood, “and we can be again.”

  Although thoughts of Moira’s betrayal still lingered, the two clans had begun to take steps toward one another in the hopes that the future might look brighter than the past.

  Smiling faces met Moira as she walked through the camp. Children dashed in and out of tents, weaving through the temporary village as they laughed and shouted. Dogs joined in, their barking rousing even the late sleepers.

  Fires were stoked and breakfast prepared, and before long, delicious aromas drifted around the camp, drawing old and young near to fill their bellies.

  Garrett and Claudia sat with Finn and Emma around a small fire, a pot dangling over it. While little Aiden stared almost hypnotically into the flames, his little feet carrying him closer before he would spin around and retreat squealing into the safety of his mother’s embrace, Finn and Emma’s little daughter lay sleeping soundly in a make-shift cradle.

  Niall and Blair chewed with vigour on their food, their eyes darting to a group of children heading toward the competition area. Impatience rested in both their eyes, and the moment the last morsel went down their throats, they darted away to join in the fun.

  While the adults of both clans kept a certain distance, eyeing each other with care and testing the waters, their children felt no such inhibitions. Even after only a single day, one could no longer tell them apart

  MacDrummond? Brunwood?

  Why would it matter?

  “Ye no longer look green around the nose,” Maggie remarked as she came walking over to where Moira stood on a small hill, a sparkle in her blue eyes.

  Moira chuckled, placing a hand on her belly. “Aye, the morning sickness has passed. In fact, I feel wonderful.” Standing a bit off to the side and out of the way of the busy comings and goings of their clan, Moira surveyed the bustling people−her people! −before turning to look at her friend. “Isn’t it wonderful to see them all together?”

  Sighing, Maggie nodded. “Aye, ‘tis enthralling. ‘Tis the way it ought to have been all along.”

  “Sometimes, mistakes lead ye the long way around,” Moira said, reaching for Maggie’s hand and squeezing it gently, “but I’ve come to believe that we’ll always get where we’re meant to be.”

  Again, Maggie sighed, and Moira wondered what had been occupying her friend’s thoughts of late. Cheerful by nature, Maggie had seemed a bit distant these past few weeks, her eyes unseeing as she had gone about her day.

  Ever since Ian’s death, the small family had drawn even closer together. Friends and family had offered their help, their compassion, their support, but in the end, it had been Maggie’s iron will that had painted a smile on her children’s faces yet again.

  Moira knew that her friend still mourned Ian’s death, not because she had loved him, but because she felt guilty for not being able to. Still, lately, her guilt seemed to have lessened, and as they stood together on the small slope overlooking the gathering, Moira noticed the way Maggie turned her gaze southward, a shuddering sigh leaving her lips.

  “Are ye thinking about him?”

  Maggie blinked, a slight confusion marking her features.

  Moira smiled at her. “The man ye once loved.”

  Maggie fought hard not to drop her gaze, but she could not keep a slight blush from stealing onto her cheeks. In the end, she said, “Aye, now and then.” Again, her eyes became distant as she once more lifted them to the far horizon as though drawn to a place of her past. Whatever had happened all these years ago, Maggie had not yet been able to put it to rest.

  “Will ye come and eat something?” Maggie finally asked as she turned toward the small fire where Emma and Claudia sat together, laughing and chatting while keeping a watchful eye on their children.

  “Soon,” Moira told her, strangely reluctant to leave this spot. Certainly, it was a wonderful vantage point from where she could see far across the land and survey the beautiful reunion of two clans which should never have drifted apart.

  Still, that was not all it was. For Moira knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there was something else. Another reason. A strange sense of belonging. Of needing to be in this spot here and now.

  As Maggie returned to the camp, Moira moved to look over the tents farther to the east. It was the Brunwood side of the camp, and when she looked closely, she could make out Connor’s tent at the centre of it. He had come with his family: his wife Henrietta and their two daughters, spirited Bridget and shy Aileen.

  The past was not forgotten and never would be. However, the day before, Moira had stumbled upon Henrietta by the stream. While neither one of them had said much, Moira remembered well the watchful eyes of Connor’s wife. Henrietta was a cautious woman, but one who had learnt to look deeper and not be satisfied with first impressions.

  For long moments, the two women had merely looked at one another and spoken not a single word. Still, a part of Moira was certain that Henrietta had understood, that she now knew that Moira was no longer the woman she had been four years ago.

  It was a start.

  “Are ye all right?”

  At the concerned edge in Cormag’s tone, Moira turned and cast him a deep smile, one meant to reassure for
he tended to worry about her. Even more now that she was with child. “I’m perfectly fine, Husband,” she whispered, sneaking her arm through the crook of his while leaning her head against his shoulder. “I was merely…”

  “Thinking?”

  “Aye,” she chuckled, as always warmed by the thought that he knew her so well.

  Cormag exhaled a deep breath, and Moira felt his arm tense. “I’m sorry that Alastair didna come,” he whispered against the top of her head, “but I need ye to know that it had nothing to do with ye. After what they’d suffered, ‘tis only natural to shy away from these kinds of festivities.”

  Moira nodded, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt brush against her skin. “Aye, I know,” she said as sadness returned to squeeze her heart.

  Earlier that year, Deidre had given birth to a beautiful little girl. She and Alastair had been mad with joy to finally hold her in their arms…and devastated to lose her only three months later.

  The thought still sent cold chills into every cell of Moira’s body, and her heart ached as she thought of losing the little one she carried. How much more would Deidre and Alastair have to bear? Would Fate never be on their side?

  Occasionally, Moira still thought of the dream she had had almost a year ago of the blue flower and the ruins by the cliff top. When would this dream come to pass? Or had the future somehow been changed?

  No doubt sensing the change in her mood, Cormag shifted and pulled Moira against his broad chest, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her tight, assuring her that she was not alone, that he was here and always would be.

  A smile played on her lips as Moira once more rested her head against his shoulder. Her gaze drifted over the two clans as they finished their breakfast and began to prepare for the Highland Games. From where they stood, she could see the Brunwood colours flapping in the wind…

  …and the smile died on her lips.

  Shock froze Moira’s limbs as her mind drew forth a dream of long ago. A dream that had led her to believe she was meant to guide her clan by Connor’s side. A dream that had sent her down a path of betrayal. A dream in which she had seen herself as Connor’s wife.