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Unlike the last voyage they had undertaken, this one was not difficult at all. The captain, a proud Frenchman, perused the letter Monsieur Picard had given them and allowed them on the ship. They had their own quarters. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that they were separated, and Ruairi found he missed her presence dearly. Her words rolled around his mind. Did she truly believe that he was a hero? All his life, he had looked at himself from the very worst angle, and only focused on his own opinion; he had disregarded what Maura had said, and he had done the same with Kendra. But despite all the danger she had faced, she still believed in him and called him a hero.

Perhaps the kiss had meant more to her than he realized.

But matters were still difficult. Since he had forsaken his title as laird, he could not be honest with his feelings. No woman would leave an honorable life behind to live at sea. He remembered a conversation he and Kenna had had during one lonely night in France. She suggested that they could run away and make a new life for themselves in the French countryside and leave all the trappings of their lives behind. At the time, he thought she had merely been making a jest, but now he wondered if there was more truth to it. She had claimed him as her husband without any hesitation, and apparently, the prospect wasn’t entirely unbelievable, as Monsieur Picard did not question it. Ruairi found the thought appealing. Kenna was certainly the type of woman he would have wanted for his wife if he had chosen to marry. She had an independent spirit and a fiery streak inside her. She was quick-witted and was never afraid to speak her mind. And her beauty…just thinking about the slender curves of her body was enough to leave him breathless.

But why torment himself? Her words were just that, words. And the kiss had just been a kiss. He was not worthy of her hand or her virtue, and she was likely swept up in the romance of adventure.

“There it is,” Kenna whispered as the Highland coast came into view. From this distance, it looked like any other shoreline, dotted with inlets and beaches, craggy and jagged rocks warning unskilled sailors away. And yet, there was something about it that tugged at their heartstrings. This was the place of their birth. This was where their blood flowed, and no matter how far they traveled from this place, it would always be their home. “Dae ye feel like this every time ye come back?” she asked.

“Aye.”

“I dinnae know how ye can ever bear tae leave.”

Ruairi said nothing in direct reply to the question. Instead, he gathered their meager belongings and prepared to disembark. The ship docked at a small port in the south of the Highlands. To get home, they would have to ride up and meet with Kenna’s father, before Ruairi would continue on to his home to hopefully see his father.

“Dae ye think yer Da is still alive?” she asked.

“Da is stubborn. He’ll hold on for as long as he can,” Ruairi said, although he knew that a lot of time had passed, and these illnesses could strike swiftly. She placed a hand on his arm.

“Ruairi, we are in the Highlands now. It’s safer here. I will nae be offended if ye leave tae return home. Time is of the essence. What if yer da—”

Ruairi cut her off. “I hae traveled with ye this far. I’m nae gaeing tae let ye make the final part of the journey yerself,” he said. He was somehow relieved when Kenna smiled at him. However, the last part of the journey was not going to be without its difficulties. With what little coin they had left, they could only afford a single horse, and the Highland villages were not as impressed by the novelty of Kenna’s singing as the French villages were. They were even more dismayed when they saw the horse as it was old and weary. It did not even have the willpower to swat away the flies that buzzed around its tail. The farmer told Ruairi that this was the best horse he was going to get for the price. Even with this horse it was going to take them a long time to get home as they wouldn’t be able to go much more than walking pace.

Ruairi decided to purchase the horse anyway. After the deal was done, Kenna looked at him.

“Why are ye spending our last coin on this old thing?” she said sharply. “It will take us ages tae get home!”

“I didnae buy it with the intention of getting home,” he said. “There is another way for us, although I swore I would never dae it,” he said.

“What?”

“There is a clan nearby, the McAteers. I can ask him for a favor as Ruairi Calbraith.”

The name sounded foreign on his tongue and he felt dirty for saying it, as well as for asking for charity from another laird. It wasn’t in his nature to ask for help from anyone, but the situation was dire, and he had little choice left. He noticed the coy smile that played on Kenna’s lips as he mentioned his true name. A cloud formed around his mind as he helped her onto the horse, and then he led the horse away, walking beside it while Kenna rode and took the weight off her feet.

Even though the landscape shared similarities with that of France, there was something different about the Highlands. They were not lost in a strange land, and as such, they did not feel an impending sense of doom. It was just a matter of time now before they would be in their respective homes. Kenna would be with her father again, while Ruairi would be with his family for a short time, before he left again.

Kenna gazed around in wonder and remarked at how beautiful it was. She pointed out all the different flowers that existed here and nowhere else, and it made him think about his childhood and all the time he had spent frolicking around in the woods with Maura. They shared stories of their childhood. Ruairi spoke about how he used to run around and pretend that he was a warrior, and how he and Maura used to race on their horses. Kenna listened intently and quietly, before she confessed to him that she wished her childhood had been like that. With no brothers and sisters of her own, she was mostly left to her own company. Her father taught her to read from a young age so that she would understand the business he was in. The main enjoyment she got was in seeing the ships come and go from the harbor, and dream of other lands.

“For a dreamer, ye are sure set on returning home,” he said.

Kenna let out a small laugh. “Aye, well, there was one thing in common all the sailors and merchants I spoke tae haed, and that was family. In truth, I dinnae mind Spain, or France for that matter, but I dinnae want tae be alone. I want a family. I want children. I want tae share my life with someone. I cannae think of anything more sad than living out my days alone.”

She spoke without thinking, and then seemed to regret her words. Ruairi averted his gaze and pretended that they didn’t mean anything to him. But in truth, they did. While he had resigned himself to a life alone, it became harder to understand the more time he spent with Kenna. She had made an indelible mark on his soul, and it was going to be difficult to lose her company. It was one thing to steel himself against love before he felt it, but quite another to turn it away after it had already begun to blossom in his heart.

The conversation grew quiet after that. The wind whispered through the trees, and Ruairi wondered if it was the spirits talking to him, welcoming him home. They walked along the winding path until they reached the estate of Laird McAteer, a grim castle that jutted out from a mountain. They passed through a market, and their stomachs rumbled, but they had no coin to buy anything. They came to the main building and strode in, tying the horse to a pole where it could slake its thirst.

Kenna gave him an encouraging look as they walked into the main chamber. Laird McAteer was sitting at the end, flanked by his wife and his advisor. He was deep in conversation when he noticed Ruairi’s presence.

“Who are ye, and what dae ye want?” the laird asked.

Ruairi felt tension bristling over his flesh. He strode up to the laird and bowed, placing his fist against his heart. “My name is Ruairi Calbraith, and I am here tae seek refuge and hospitality,” he said deeply.

“Ruairi Calbraith,” the laird breathed, leaning forward to peer at this stranger. “Now there’s a name I hae nae heard in a long time. The last thing I heard was that ye were at sea.”

“Aye, I was, but when I was escorting Lady Baird”—he gestured to his side, and Kenna walked forward—“back tae the Highlands, my ship was caught in a storm. We were lost in France and haed tae make our way back. It haes been a long journey, Laird, and we are anxious tae get home. Lady Baird requires an audience with her father, and mine is ill. Please,” he added, finding it difficult to actually ask for help.

“That sounds like a dramatic story. We dinnae get much tales of the sea up here in the Highlands. Of course, ye can hae our hospitality. The hours grow long. Stay for the night. Bathe, drink, feast with us, and tell yer tale! Then taemorrow I will give ye my fastest horses sae that ye can return home. I hae tae admit, I never thought a Calbraith would be asking a favor from me.”

“Thank ye, Laird,” Ruairi said, bowing again. He bristled at the way Laird McAteer spoke, and hated that he was now indebted to the man. For someone like Ruairi, who had spent so many years fending for himself, it was almost impossible to think of having to rely on someone else, and he was ashamed to think that word would spread of this. But at least he was not turned away. Kenna smiled, and they walked out to prepare for the feast, eager to cleanse themselves and get some food in their bellies.

As Ruairi returned to his chamber, he washed himself and saw his reflection in the water. He looked like a wild man. His hair was thick and tousled, and when he ran his hands through it, he could feel the knots. The same was true of his beard. At sea, he had always tried to keep it trim and even, but now it had a mind of its own. He took a razor and hacked it off, cutting so close to the flesh that he almost drew blood. It took him a long time, but eventually, his jaw was clean, and he stared at a face that he did not recognize. When he put on the clothes that had been laid out for him, he felt more like a laird than ever before. Now that he was back in the Highlands, he could feel his other life slipping away.