Page 26 of Desire of a Highlander

“Ronan told me a little about how he arrived here,” Elodie said.

Faye raised an eyebrow. “Oh, did he now? “I’d pay good money to hear his version.”

Elodie grinned. “I’d rather hear yours.”

Faye shrugged. “He appeared out of the mist one morning looking ready to drop. Of course, he insisted he was perfectly fine.”

“Was he?”

“Not even slightly.”

Elodie smiled. That sounded like what she’d learned of Ronan.

“He rode in atop that great beast of his, clinging onto the saddle barely conscious.” Faye shook her head at the memory. “Fine horse. Fine clothes. But not a scrap of coin or belongings with him other than his two pistols and a sword. I didnae know what to make of him. I really didnae.”

Elodie thought of Ronan. His strong arms swinging a hammer in his smithy. The swords hanging on the wall. The fine horse. The careful way he avoided certain questions.

“Who is he?” she asked quietly.

Faye’s smile softened. “A good man. We couldnae have survived this long without him. Any more than that, ye’ll have to ask him.”

Elodie should have known better than to ask. She stared into her mug of tea. A good man.

Faye yawned hugely, pressing the back of one hand against her mouth.

Elodie pointed to the bed. “You’re taking the bed tonight.”

The healer narrowed her eyes. “Ye still have a head wound, lass. Ye need rest more than I.”

“I don’t care. You spent the entire night last night sleeping on the floor because of me. So tonight you’re sleeping in your own bed. I’ll take the floor.”

Faye cocked her head. “Ye are a very bossy lass.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve been told that.”

“Really? Ye do surprise me.” Faye smiled to soften the words. “All right, lass. Ye win. For now.”

With a sigh, Faye heaved herself from her chair and climbed into bed. Elodie settled herself on the thin mattress on the floor and blew out the only candle, filling the cottage with darkness except for the glow of the dying embers.

Faye’s breathing soon deepened into sleep but Elodie lay staring up at the rafters. It had been a tiring, confusing two days. Last night had started by her trying to find a way home. It had ended with her choosing to return.

I have to go home, she told herself. What will Carla and the others do without me? They need me to help save the community center.

She snorted softly to herself. Who was she trying to kid? They didn’t need her at all. They’d get on just fine whether she was there or not. What was she other than an unemployed project manager who couldn’t even afford to pay her bills? The bitter truth was that no matter how hard she tried, she was never quite able to make the difference she so desperately wanted to. She’d grown up believing she could change the world. Life had taught her otherwise.

Ye are always fighting the good fight, Elodie MacNeil. Trouble is, have ye found yer true fight yet? The one that will lead ye to yer destiny and the person ye are meant to share it with?

Irene’s words rang in her head, despite her efforts to forget them.

Ronan had offered to take her back to where he’d found her. From there she was sure she could find the arch that had brought her here. Then all she had to do was step through it and...voila. She would be home.

Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow I’ll go home.

But why did the thought of leaving send a little sting of disappointment through her?

As she drifted towards sleep, she found herself thinking not about her old life and how much she missed it, but about a hidden valley, a rough-tongued healer, a giant horse named Angus.

And a blacksmith with a wry smile and eyes she could drown in.