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They settled in a glade for the evening. Ruairi made a fire. It was a simple thing for him, but Kenna was impressed at how he could control the elements like this. Along the way, Ruairi had hunted a small animal and roasted it over the fire. Kenna had turned her head away as Ruairi had skinned it, but she showed no such reservation when it came time to eat. The fire flickered and a plume of smoke rose through the air. The trees offered shadowed protection, and the canopy of leaves hid the moonlight from them. Their horses seemed content with their new owners, and rested after a long day of riding.

“Can I ask ye a question, Ruairi?” Kenna ventured. Ruairi wiped some juice off his chin and nodded. “What dae ye think the future holds for ye? What are ye gaeing tae dae when we return tae the Highlands?”

Ruairi turned his gaze away from her and stared into the fire, as though it would hold all his secrets. “I suppose after I stop by home, I’ll be on my way again. I’ll find a new ship. I hae enough holdings that I should be able to buy a new one, and my reputation is such that people will still want tae dae business with me.”

“Ye mean ye would still gae tae sea even after what happened?”

“A sailor doesnae turn away after one storm,” Ruairi explained. “Ye cannae let that affect ye. Ye hae tae keep gaeing, tae brave the fury of nature. It’s the only way tae tame the sea.”

“Some would say the same about life,” she said quietly.

“What?” Ruairi asked. Kenna tore some meat off the bone and flicked it into the fire. There was a hiss and a mist of steam became a wall between them.

“It doesnae matter,” she said.

“Gae on. Say what ye want tae say,” he said.

Kenna sighed. “What ye just said is true for life as well as the sea. I just dinnae understand how ye can run away from one but nae the other. Is there no part of ye that wants tae take yer rightful place at home? What if this is a sign that ye hae no future at sea?” she asked.

“I dinnae believe in fate.”

“Sometimes it doesnae matter if ye believe in it or nae. Some things just are,” she said.

Ruairi bit his tongue before he could reply. Things had been amicable between them ever since they had washed up on the shore, and he didn’t want to get into an argument with her now. “There’s a long way until we get home, and plenty of things can change. I dinnae need tae decide now,” he said. Although his heart was set on returning to sea, there was a part of him that wondered about home. Was his father still clinging to life? Would word reach them of his death? There were so many things to consider, and most of all, there was Kenna. The more time he spent with her, the more he found himself drawn to her.

He hadn’t told her this, but before he had stolen the horses in the village, he heard her sing and thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He had only heard it being drowned out by the rest of the crew as they sang their sea shanties before, but to hear it on its own was wonderful and bright. It seemed a waste for her to be married to some old fool who wouldn’t appreciate her—not that Ruairi was the right man either. That’s what he told himself, at least. He was a man who embraced solitude and didn’t deserve love. He was a man who lived alone and sailed the seas.

Such a thought used to always bring him comfort, but now it didn’t seem so convincing. Something was changing inside him, and he wasn’t sure he liked what it was. He certainly wasn’t about to admit it to Kenna either.

After they had eaten, they rested on the soft mossy ground. Ruairi pulled a tunic over Kennae as she fell asleep. He shivered in the chill of the night, but he was happy that she could be warm. For a moment on the shore, he thought she would die, and in that moment, he hated the thought of never seeing her again. He wanted to get her home, to prove to himself that he could do something noble with his life, something good. And yet, he also knew that when that moment came, it would lead to them parting. He lay flat on his back and gazed up at the stars, thinking about his life and the meandering path it had taken. If he had stayed at home, he would have had a wife by now and a child or two, perhaps even three. He wouldn’t have known anything of Kenna, and the thought made him sad. He tilted his head to gaze upon her. She breathed deeply as she slept. She looked so pure and peaceful, as though she was a part of the moon herself.

In the small hours of the night, Ruairi awoke. Kenna hissed his name in a low whisper. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, surprised that it was still dark. The fire had died to embers, providing dim light rather than the fierce inferno that had been there before. But one word made him jolt up and stole the slumber from him.

Wolf.

Ruairi twisted his head, following Kenna’s gaze. He saw the silhouette of a wolf, its beady eyes two golden stars in amongst the black night. It moved slowly, cautiously, as though it was still deciding whether to pounce on them or not.

“Keep down,” Ruairi whispered. Kenna pulled the tunic that she was using as a blanket close to her as Ruairi moved slowly. It had been a long time since he had been in conflict with a wolf. There wasn’t much danger of them at sea. But all the lessons he learned from his uncle Jamie came flooding back. He kept his eyes trained on the wolf so that he wouldn’t be surprised. He moved carefully so as not to startle it. There were no weapons in his vicinity. Oh, what he would have given for a sword or an ax, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. He reached out and curled his fingers around a long stick that rested in the fire. Its tip scraped against the brittle wood that had burned. He caught an ember and waited for it to take hold. The stick glowed, and then Ruairi smiled as it burst into life. He stabbed it in the air towards the wolf, rising from his low position to make himself as tall and intimidating as possible. Wild gestures made the already hesitant wolf reconsider his instincts, and the wolf padded away, disappearing in the night in search of easier prey.

“How did ye dae that?” Kenna asked. “I thought we were dead for sure without any weapons.”

Ruairi trained his gaze on the darkness and remained in a defensive posture for a few moments just in case the wolf decided to come back, but when he was confident that he was alone, he settled back on the ground, stoking the fire a little to warn away any other predators that might have been attracted to their small camp.

“There are always weapons in nature, ye just hae tae know where tae look. Every animal is scared of fire. My uncle Jamie taught me that.”

“Ye must be looking forward tae seeing him again,” Kenna said.

Ruairi bowed his head. “He died a long time ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“He was hunting a huge boar, and he managed to kill it, but nae before it haed its revenge. It gored him in the stomach. He managed tae make it home, but then he died.”

“At least ye were there tae say goodbye.”

“I wasnae. I heard it from Maura the next time I was home.”

Kenna stared at him and ran her hand through her hair. “I dinnae understand ye, Ruairi. One moment I think ye are a heartless man who cares for nothing other than the sea, but whenever ye speak about yer family, I can tell that they weigh heavily on yer heart. Ye dinnae hae tae admit it tae me, but I know ye care about them. I just wish ye could admit it tae yerself. Yer life might be better off if ye were honest with yerself. I just dinnae know what could be so important that it would keep ye from yer family for all this time.”

She didn’t ask a question, so Ruairi had no reason to answer her, but for the first time, he was tempted to tell someone about his secret. In the depths of the night, he was still haunted by John’s face, and he knew there was nothing he had done in his life to make up for that. There probably never was. He had killed an innocent man. If that wasn’t enough proof that he was unsuitable to be a laird, he didn’t know what was. That moment continued to define him, even now, and he just wished he had enough courage to tell Kenna the truth.

Instead, he turned his back to her and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the dying fire carry him away to sleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of the past, and he knew that if he had been at home, he would have gone on the hunt with Uncle Jamie. Another man had died because of Ruairi. Was there no end to it? Perhaps if he could escort Kenna back to her father, he might reclaim some honor for himself, and perhaps his family would be proud of him. But deep down, Ruairi would always know that he was a failure.