He finally pulled back, breathless and a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, lass. I couldna help myself.”
She laughed and placed her hand on his dear face. “Do not apologize. I’m just happy you’re home.”
He wiped a tear on her cheek, one she had not known was there, and smiled at her. “Home.” He nodded. “I am home.” His gaze shifted toward the tent and his smile grew even bigger. “Miriam.”
The toddler had climbed out of her bed and was standing near the open flap of the tent, wiping sleep from her eyes. Her blond curls were in disarray and her face was puffy from slumber. But when she saw Arran, all trace of sleepiness disappeared and she grinned.
She had not forgotten him.
More tears fell from Eleanor’s eyes as Arran left her side and went to Miriam. The little girl lifted her arms and Arran picked her up. She hugged his neck and snuggled into his embrace.
Arran turned back to Eleanor, wonder in his eyes.
She went to his side and allowed him to bring her into his embrace again.
“I have dreamed about this moment every single day since I left you,” he said to Eleanor.
“I feared it might be years before you returned. I was so afraid—” She couldn’t continue, too overcome with relief that she would not have to face Chait now.
Fiona had made herself scarce, as had everyone else. It was just Arran, Eleanor, and Miriam at her campsite.
“Why was Fiona so upset?” Arran asked Eleanor. “Just now, when I saw her at the cauldron, she made me believe you were in great danger. I thought I’d find you here on your deathbed.”
Eleanor shook her head, not wanting to tell Arran about Chait. The whole experience had left her feeling defiled and shaken—but she could not keep it from him, either. She never wanted to keep anything from him. So, she told him about Chait’s proposal and his threat.
Arran’s jaw tightened and he scanned the fort, as if looking for the offender.
“No.” Eleanor put her hand on his arm. “Do not concern yourself with him. Now that you’re here, he’s not a threat to me any longer. He’ll leave. I know he will.” She lifted her hand to his cheek to turn his gaze back to her. “Please don’t do anything to ever put yourself at risk again. I cannot bear to be apart from you.”
His features softened. “And I you. Not for one more night.”
Heat filled his gaze and Eleanor’s insides melted at the look in his eyes.
“There’s a missionary priest visiting the post. He plans to leave soon.” She dropped her gaze and toyed with a buttonhole on his vest. “If there was anything you wanted him to do before he leaves.”
The corners of Arran’s mouth came up. “Aye. I have something very important I’d like him to do, as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’ve never been more ready in all my life.” She met his gaze, hoping he saw how very much she wanted to marry him.
“Will you marry me, lass?”
Eleanor nodded. “Yes.”
He lowered his lips to hers again, his kiss full of the promise of so much more to come. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.” She leaned her cheek against his chest, not wanting to part with him for even a moment.
“I’ll go speak to the priest. How long do you need to get ready?”
“I’m ready now—though, if you’d rather I change into a prettier dress—”
“You’re the bonniest bride I’ve ever seen. I dinna care what you’re wearing.”
Her cheeks warmed at his words. “I’ll have Fiona help me change. I still have a few pretty things.”
He smiled and nodded. “And I’ll take Miriam with me to find the priest, so you can change without keeping an eye on the little one.”
His thoughtfulness warmed her as much as his passionate kisses.
