“Then ye’ll have me, Moira,” Brodie vowed, words enveloping her like a warm plaid.
“Always,” she whispered back, sealing their promise with a tender kiss.
Moira sensed a lighter burden on her shoulders. With Brodie by her side, they were an unbreakable force capable of facing any threat together.
He was only able to stay at the ceilidh for an hour, and she spent every moment of it at his side before returning to her duties as one of the three hostesses. It was nice to just sit andobserve the dancers. She enjoyed anything with Brodie at her side.
After making a quick pass through the hall and ensuring people were enjoying themselves, she stopped to watch the dancing for a moment again. Everyone looked happy.
The rhythmic stomping and clapping filled the hall, faces filled with happiness. Moira stood at the edge, and a smile tugged at her mouth. She joined the circle as a burly clansman waved her over.
Moira’s laughter cut through the music as she danced gracefully. Dancers moved in time to the drumbeat, hands weaving and feet tapping in an intricate pattern passed down generations—a testament to Highland heritage.
“Ye’ve not lost yer touch,” Ailis praised, spinning past Moira.
“Nor will I ever,” Moira retorted, eyes sparkling with joy as she spun.
Torches cast a warm glow, and musicians struck up lively tunes that made everyone tap their feet. Laughter mingled harmoniously with fiddles and pipes.
As soon as the last guest had retired for the night, Moira headed back to the infirmary and her Brodie.
“I had a fine time this evening at the ceilidh,” Brodie said softly, smiling at Moira. “It’s more than merriment they share—it is hope.” He covered a yawn.
“Aye,” she agreed, pride evident in her voice. “The men have truly learned to fight and live as one large clan. I never thought I would see so many come together against a single threat.” She smiled mischievously. “Other than the English, of course.”
He chuckled softly, enjoying her humor. “Thank ye for making certain I was able to be there for part of it.”
“I dinnae think I could have made it through the night without ye.” Moira clasped his hand. “Ye ken, we will weather any storm that comes,” Moira murmured amidst the celebration.
“Like the mighty oaks outside these walls,” Brodie replied with a nod, his voice steady as the ancient trees.
“Whatever comes, Brodie, I stand ready, with ye at my side.” Her voice carried the weight of commitment, bound by love and sealed by their ancestors’ blood.
“And I with ye, Moira.”
“Then let us face the morrow with heads held high,” she said, her voice bright with conviction.
“Until the end of our days,” Brodie promised.
She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. It was good to have her husband back. They would have to start the difficult part of getting him walking on his own soon, but for tonight, she felt as if they were united once again.
