Laren brushed a kiss against her daughter’s forehead.So am I.
Theearthtrembledasdozens of horsemen surrounded their army on both sides. Robert Fitzroy, Baron Harkirk, watched in fury as more of the Scots poured in, reinforced by the French. His hand tightened upon the hilt of his sword and he wanted nothing more than to bathe his weapon in their blood.
The MacKinlochs were supposed to die this day. Hadn’t he burned their fortress to the ground, slaughtering their kinsmen? He’d already planned to set up an outpost here, to secure more land for King Edward Plantagenet, but he could see his victory fading away like smoke.
“Pull back!” he ordered and his soldiers obeyed. Though it splintered his pride, he hadn’t survived half-a-dozen battles by making foolish decisions that would endanger his neck.
As they retreated into the hills, Harkirk cast a backwards glance. This wasn’t over. Not by half.
He vowed that the next time he looked upon the face of a MacKinloch, it would be mounted upon a pike outside his gates.
Ittookaquarterof an hour to reach the ridge, and Alex helped his brother up to the top of the hill. Bram had been fighting for hours now, and the man’s expression held the madness of battle. His brother’s wife Nairna appeared worried, for although they had survived with only minor injuries, Bram had hardly spoken a word. But Alex felt certain that once they brought him home, his brother would make a full recovery.
When they reached the clearing, the first glimpse of Laren sent a roaring breath of relief back through Alex’s lungs. The instinct pulled at him, to go to her. He needed to hold his wife and breathe in the scent of her skin, touching her soft red hair.
Laren started to take a step toward him, but she abruptly stopped, her face ashen. Her hand pressed to her side and then she turned her attention to their girls. Their clansmen were watching, and when Alex took a step toward her, she shrank back.
He couldn’t understand why. Aye, they’d grown apart over the past two years, but why had she turned away when all he wanted to do was embrace her? The pain in her eyes bothered him, for he didn’t understand it. Wasn’t she glad to see him alive?
Though Mairin and Adaira called out, Laren bent and spoke quietly, as if to prevent them from running to him. Adaira clutched Laren’s leg, burying her face in her mother’s skirts.
A thousand moments passed by in a single second. Pride froze out the aching emotions, and Alex stared back at his wife, wishing she would meet him halfway. But she merely gave him a nod and moved away with the girls, unable to face him.
Something was wrong. She’d closed herself off again, and he didn’t know why. His hand tightened on the door frame and he forced himself to look after his brother. “Will you be all right with him?” Alex asked Nairna, who had helped her husband to sit upon their bed.
“Aye.” She poured water into a basin and retrieved a cloth to tend Bram’s wounds. When she had wrung out the cloth, she sent Alex a pointed look. “Go to Laren. She needs you.”
He left them alone, watching the way Nairna cared for her husband. The deep love in her eyes and the answering look in her husband’s face brought a surge of envy. He wanted to be with Laren right now, to shatter the invisible wall between them.
The thought became a thorn, digging deeper into his pride. She was the woman he’d pledged to protect. Years ago, she would have thrown herself into his arms, not caring what anyone else thought. She’d have clung to him, whispering words of how she’d worried.
But now she kept her distance from him, almost as if they were strangers.
His frustration strung tighter as he walked among the survivors, asking about their welfare. During that time, not once had Laren moved toward him. Her face was white, as though she were too timid to move.
Damn it all, he didn’t care if she no longer wanted him. They’d survived their brush with death, and right now he wanted to hold her. He needed her in his arms, whether or not she was too shy to answer the embrace.
He crossed through the people, moving directly toward her. Without voicing a single word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She let out a slight gasp, but her hands moved up to his shoulders, resting there. He didn’t speak, didn’t reveal any of the thoughts coursing through his mind. Adaira and Mairin each grabbed his legs, but right now, he needed Laren.
Dimly, he was aware that she wasn’t quite holding him in return. Her hands were there, but there was no warmth, no answering embrace. His heart numbed when he pulled back to look at her, his hands resting at her waist.
He’d mistakenly believed that if he made the first move she would welcome him back, that the past two years of distance wouldn’t matter any more, because they were alive. But she didn’t look at him, as if she were too shy to speak.
He let his hands fall away, saying nothing. The girls were chattering, asking him questions about when they could go home, where they would sleep, and he couldn’t give them an answer.
His kinsman Ross came near, and asked, “Do you want to bring your family to our home for the night?” Since Ross’s home was on the opposite side of the fortress, it had escaped the fires.
Alex never took his eyes from Laren, but agreed. “Aye, if it’s no trouble to you.”
“Not at all. Vanora will want to fuss over the wee ones, as she likes to do.” His gaze grew somber, while they stared at the smoke rising from the valley below. “You’ll be needing a place to stay until you can rebuild the keep.”
“I’ll take the girls there now,” Laren said quietly, “if you think it’s safe to return.” Her voice was shaky, but at his nod she guided their daughters away from the crowds. As they disappeared into the forest, Ross was saying something else to him, but Alex didn’t hear a word of it.
His wife was behaving strangely and he didn’t know why. Then his gaze drifted down to his hands. Blood stained his palms from where he’d held his wife.
It was Laren’s blood.
LarenheldAdaira’shandas Mairin skipped forward. She kept her head held high, even though the tears flowed freely down her face. She kept her hand firmly upon the bleeding wound at her side, trying not to take deep breaths. When Alex had held her, his hands had pressed against it and she’d nearly passed out from the pain. The injury felt like an aching fire, but she refused to pity herself.
