He couldn’t.
Sitting on a rock, he watched as Alana braided her long, thick hair. She was humming softly to herself. The tune sad, heartfelt. He wondered if she kenned the complete mess she had made of him. He didn’t think so. She was completely unaware of just how much of an effect she had on him.
When they walked, unhurriedly, since Rory kenned they were getting close and he wanted to delay their arrival as much as possible, he found deer tracks in the mud.
“Look at these,” he called out, pausing and pointing so Alana could see them.
“What are they?” She asked curiously.
“Deer tracks.” He followed them for a bit, to the edge of the trees, where berry bushes grew. “They stopped here to eat the berries.” He dipped his head toward the woods. “Then entered the trees. If ye follow them, they will lead ye to water.”
“How do ye ken?” She asked, interested.
“They always do. They’ll eat, drink, and then burrow downsomeplace safe, away from predators.” He looked around. “Here.” He pointed out more tracks in the mud left behind from the earlier storms. She approached, studying them.
“What are those from?”
“Hare. See, ye can see how they zig zag? ’Tis their defense against predators. ’Tis more difficult for them to be caught when they hop from side to side instead of in a straight line.” He stood up. “We can follow them, and ye’ll see.” He turned her shoulders and pointed her toward the woods. “Can ye see where they go?”
She studied the ground, her head tilted to the side, and moved in the wrong direction.
Rory chuckled, and corrected her direction. “This way,” he pointed to the ground, showing her each indent the hare had made in the mud.
She shifted and his arm brushed against hers, their fingers touching.
Heat flared betwixt them, but he stepped back quickly.
“Er, ye’ll need these tracking skills when ye go back,” he said, pulling on the back of his neck. “In case ye e’er return.”
Her face fell. “Return? What do ye mean?”
He refused to meet her eyes. Not when he kenned he would see longing that matched his own there.
Once again, he reminded himself that she isn’t his to want. It was the same thing he had been repeating to himself over and over again. Mayhap if he said it enough, he would start to believe it.
He didn’t ken who he was fooling. Definitely not himself. He kenned it didn’t matter how many times he repeated the mantra. He still wouldn’t believe it.
Growing serious, he took a deep breath and spoke from his heart. “When I was ordered to escort ye to yer betrothed, I had no choice but to agree. Duty above all else, as we have both apparently, been told. I tried to keep my distance.” He laughed, but it wasn’t comical. “It washard. So damn hard. Ye caught me as soon as ye spoke with sass and confidence. From that moment, ye had me enthralled. Enchanted.”
Her eyes rounded as she listened to his heartfelt confession.
“There may have been times where ye believe I was annoyed. I pray ye realize I wasnae. I was waging a war within myself. One that is still being waged with e’ery breath I take. E’ery time I glance upon ye.” He pushed his hands through his hair roughly.
“I will get ye to yer betrothed,” he said quietly. “Just as promised. E’en though doing so will absolutely tear me in two. The thought of delivering ye to another man that will take ye as wife rips me open with a pain as such I have ne’er experienced afore. Right here.” He rubbed the left side of his chest, just over his heart.
Alana stepped forward, laying her palms flat on his chest as she looked up it him, the pain that he was for certs in his own eyes, reflected in hers.
He wanted to curse the world. How could it be so cruel? How could he have found the one woman that he could see a future with—as his wife, as the mother of his bairns—only for her to be unavailable to him?
“Rory,” she said softly, her fingers clutching at his tunic. “We could run.”
He shook his head. “Dinnae say such things.” It was desperation that made her say such a statement. It was the realization of how close they were to her new home. The dread that the time spent in each other’s company was nearing an end.
“Ye ken the Highlands like the back of yer hand. We could make our home here. Far away from anyone else. They would ne’er be able to find us. Please!” She said hopefully, as he took hold of her hands in his and brought them up to his lips so he could kiss each fingertip softly.
“As much as I love that idea, we both ken we cannae. We will have no’ only our families looking for us, but the MacDonell as weel. Theywould find us.”
She pulled her hands away and swiped at the fat tears that fell over her cheeks like a fast flowing waterfall, shaking her head in denial.
