“Where’s yer head at, Caden?” Finlay looked at him quizzically.
“I was thinkin’ about the day Faither told us the story of the tree.” Caden smiled sadly.
“A good day.” Finlay smiled back.
It had been a very good day, indeed. Perhaps they could tell Nathan the story of the tree when he was a little older. Perhaps Ava could be there too. Ah, there it was. She found a way to sneak into his thoughts when he was actively trying to think of something else, anything else.
In fact, he had only managed not to think of their conversation earlier that morning during the race.
“Now, will ye pull yer head out of the loch? I’m tryin’ to tell ye that some men were spotted in the village yesterday.” Finlay looked at him gravely.
“What? Why did ye nae tell me sooner?”
“I did, but ye werenae listening!” Finlay sighed. “I only just got word from the guards this morning. They werenae suspicious at first, but the men overstayed their welcome at the tavern.”
“Do ye think they’re his men?” Caden steered his horse around the village, his eyes peeled open for anything unusual.
“Aye, I have nay doubt about that. But the pub owner said they could have just been drunk guests. They made nay moves to break into the castle or disturb the cèilidh, but I still have me suspicions,” Finlay said.
Caden nodded his head. “It’s unusual to have travelers this time of year, so tell the guards to watch out for people who say they are family or relatives of the villagers. Tell them to report anyone who looks suspicious.”
They spent the next hour circling the village and castle grounds, discussing the strategy for guarding the land, who needed assistance in the village, and how to prepare for the rest of the winter.
Once they had arrived back at the yew tree, they paused and looked at the ancient gatehouse that guarded the castle. It was wood and wrought iron, and had stood guard with the tree.
But it could not shake away the question that had been burning in the back of Caden’s mind for hours. Now that he knew the clan was taken care of well, it returned.
“Tell me, Braither, do ye regret sendin’ me in yer place yesterday?”
Finlay remained quiet for a moment, studying Caden’s face.
A gust of wind blew past them, rustling the tall grass. The sun had poked through the clouds ever so slightly, but Caden barely noticed it.
“It’s a solution that helps us all.” Finlay said finally, shrugging as if it did not matter at all.
What does that mean?
They sat in silence, listening to the birds and the bugs go about their daily business.
“Ye didnae mention that me bride would be so bonny,” Caden said after a while.
“I hadnae noticed.” Finlay wrinkled his nose.
Argus flicked his tail as if to concur.
“Ye?Yehadnae noticed? Ye, who has slept with every available woman in this village.” Caden raised an eyebrow, incredulous.
“How did ye ken about that!” Finlay gasped, pretending to faint.
Caden had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
“I’m nae a moron, Braither. I pay attention to yer ways.” He looked out over the river to hide his amusement.
“Wouldnae kill ye to mention it every once in a while.” Finlay sighed. “Look, Ava is a friend. I wouldnae want to marry her and then hurt her withme ways,as ye put it.”
“And yet ye seem pretty close.” Caden looked at his brother, unable to believe that his brother did not care for Ava. If anything, it made it look more suspicious, that he did not want to hurt her. And the way she had been so hurt yesterday…
“Wearepretty close, Braither. She is like Joanna to me. I’m the closest thing she has to a braither. I’ll never forgive meself for failing her, but truthfully, I was just looking out for her. Just daenae tell anyone I really believed ye were a better choice than me. That would ruin me chances with the lassies from the nearby villages,” he joked.
