Page 58 of Only a Highlander Will Do

Behind him, Tormod heard his brother, Alastair, call to the men below. “Open the main gate and pursue the MacDonalds on horseback.”

Tormod’s heart sank as he watched Alex and his father ride towards the woodlands. As the gate opened and the MacLeods started through, the lead the father and son had was too great for the MacLeods to overtake them. They vanished from sight.

Tormod pulled himself back up to the roof and stood beside his brother. “I should be satisfied that we rescued our sister. Yet a part of me is angry that justice has not yet been served.”

Alastair placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “These things have a way of working themselves out over time.”

“What about your quest for peace? Alex MacDonald’s need for revenge will ruin all chances for that anytime soon.”

Alastair raised a brow. “Or has it? The MacDonalds have tarnished their relationships with many of the isle clans over what happened here today. I can use that distrust to foster more alliances. I am more determined than ever to gain peace amongst the clans.”

Tormod offered his brother a relieved smile. “You always were the best of us. It is good you are laird.”

“I think all three of us have our strengths. Together we make an incredible team. That said, our lives are changing. You and I are both married. Soon, with luck, we will start raising our own sons.” Alastair’s gaze grew serious. “Will you stay at Dunvegan or will you and Fiona go off to find your own lives?”

Tormod frowned, suddenly unsure of anything in his life. For the first time he had options. He could continue to search for Alex MacDonald and his father. He could return to the West Indies and continue to fight other nations’ battles, although that thought held little appeal. He could help Fiona and her father rebuild Ulster Castle and spend the rest of his days in Fiona’s arms, making certain no harm came to her and their future children. He wanted a life with Fiona. He wanted to keep her safe. Forever.

Tormod allowed the thoughts to sweep over him with their sweet shattering power. He loved Fiona. He inhaled a sharp breath, feeling suddenly renewed. He had to tell her. He had to ask her to spend every day with him for the rest of their lives. “Will you see to the men? I need to return to Fiona.”

Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled down off the roof and hurried back down the stairs to the dungeon. His steps were fuelled by thoughts of the last several days. He would not trade a second in her arms, not one word spoken, not the passion they shared, not one of her smiles for anything else in the world.

He loved her.

A part of his soul had been lost while he’d fought battle after battle in countries so far away. Then he’d returned to Scotland, to Dunvegan and the pieces of his soul had returned too. He would always be a warrior, but the battle he fought had changed. He fought for the protection of his family and the betterment of his country. He was a Scot and he was a MacLeod—nothing would make him forget those two things ever again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fiona knew her father was gone from this world, but she couldn’t let go of his body. She cradled him in her arms as she never had while he was alive. She felt heavy inside, weighed down with tears she couldn’t shed, not yet. If she started crying she might not be able to stop.

“Fiona.” At the sound of Tormod’s gentle voice, she lifted her gaze to his.

“He’s dead.” She forced the words past the thickness in her throat.

He strode to her side, extending his hand to help her up. “Let’s get you both out of here.”

She reached out with trembling fingers to grasp Tormod’s hand. At his touch, the pain that pierced her soul receded.

Tormod released her, then bent down to retrieve her father’s body. Her father’s face was at peace. Tormod took a moment to close the eyes before he lifted the older man, nestling her father’s limp body in his strong and capable arms.

Fiona drew a shaky breath at the image. She hoped at one time her father had cradled her in the same protective way. Now those roles were reversed and she would care for and protect his body as his soul journeyed on to his final reward.

“Are you well, Rowena?” Tormod asked as he turned to the side to see his sister and Marcus’s parents waiting in silence there. They had stayed back, allowing Fiona the time she needed to grieve.

Rowena smoothed a hand over her wild hair, neither combing or calming the strands that went every which way. “Better now that you are here. I’m eager to return home and put all this behind us.”

Tormod stayed close beside Fiona as the six of them moved slowly up the stairs to join the others in the courtyard. The sun overhead peeked down through scudding clouds, yet no warmth covered the land.

Tormod set her father’s body down next to his horse, then came back to her, wrapping her in his arms. Gently, he stroked her hair. “Would it be all right with you if we take his body with us and stop at Ulster to bury him there?”

She allowed herself a moment in his arms, taking what brief comfort she could from his touch before she pulled back. “I’d like that very much.”

Tormod pressed a kiss into her hair. “Are you able to ride alone or should I have Graeme take you up with him?”

“I’m strong, Tormod. I can ride alone.” She drew a breath of the cool air and offered him a smile. “In fact, I am stronger than I ever realised.”

“Aye, you are, my sweet.” His eyes gleamed with pride. “You are the strongest woman I know.”

When they stopped at Ulster Castle, the MacLeods bid farewell to their allies who continued on to their own homes. Leaving her to sit beside her father while the men dug a grave for him, Fiona let her thoughts wander back over all that had happened.