Page 72 of Desire of a Highlander

Together they began walking slowly back through the Steading, Bran and Skye trotting along behind. People called greetings as they passed. Someone asked where the timber should be stacked. Another wanted advice about packing grain. Ronan smiled to himself. Despite the circumstances, life carried on as normal.

Yet the question rose in his mind before he could stop it. For how long?

Chapter 17

The cottage was silent.

Beyond the little window, the world was still wrapped in darkness, the sky only just beginning to pale at the eastern horizon. The outlines of the surrounding hills were little more than shadows.

Elodie stood with her hands resting on the rough wooden windowsill, staring out into the sleeping Steading. Strange, she thought, how things can change so quickly. The first morning she’d woken here she’d thought it primitive, isolated, frightening. Now she knew every cottage, every winding footpath. She knew who baked the best bread, which children were forever getting into trouble, which old men argued over absolutely everything.

But just as it all began to feel as familiar as a well-worn shirt, she was about to leave it all behind and walk into the unknown.

Three days had passed since Ronan had stood before everyone and revealed who he truly was. Three days, and yet it felt like a month. It had been three days of relentless work. Packing what little everyone owned. Smoking meat for the journey. Repairing wagons. Organizing people into groups so nobody would be left behind.

She’d thrown herself into it with the same determination she’d once devoted to impossible construction deadlines. The only difference was that this time it mattered. Really mattered. Because if they got this wrong there was the very real possibility that people could die.

Her hands clenched, her fingers gripping the windowsill. Only yesterday there had been another skirmish on the outskirts of the Steading. It had been nothing like the ambush that had wounded David, but bad enough. A militia patrol had stumbled across two of Ronan’s scouts near the moors. Nobody had been hurt but only because Ronan’s warning system had given them enough time to disappear into the hills.

If anyone had any doubts that the Steading was no longer safe, this incident had quelled them. Sooner or later those militias would find the Steading. Leaving wasn’t simply an option anymore.

It was survival.

She rested her forehead against the cool wooden frame, breathing deeply to calm the thumping of her heart. Strong arms slipped gently around her waist. Ronan rested his chin lightly on her shoulder.

“What occupies that busy mind?” he murmured.

“Everything.”

His quiet chuckle vibrated against her back. “That narrows it down.”

“I was just...you know...worrying. Turns out I’m quite good at it.”

“Faye tells me that isnae good for yer health.”

She snorted. “And she’s right. I’ve barely slept a wink.”

“Me neither.”

He brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, a slow, lingering kiss that sent warmth racing through her. She closed her eyes. His embrace tightened slightly and she turned in his arms until she was facing him.

Even in the dim light, she could make out the familiar planes of his face. The scar near his jaw. The thoughtful eyes she’d come to know so well. The man she’d somehow fallen hopelessly in love with.

She reached up and traced the line of his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Terrified. I’ve not walked this road in years.”

She nodded, thinking of what lay at the end of it. His brother. His past. Everything he’d tried so hard to leave behind.

She slipped her fingers into his. “We’ll walk it together.”

His expression softened. “Aye. We will.”

He kissed her gently then rested his forehead against hers. A long sigh escaped him. “I guess it’s time.”

The words settled heavily. “Yes, I guess it is.”

Ronan released her then opened the door. Elodie followed him outside into the cold predawn air. They found the Steading was already moving, but not with its normal morning bustle. This time it was quiet, focussed. Lanterns bobbed quietly through the darkness as families gathered beside their bundles. Children, still sleepy, clung to their parents.