Trailing a hand up and down Kirstie’s soft skin, Alan marveled how at ease he felt despite being in an unfamiliar stable somewhere outside of Edinburgh. She’d fallen asleep after they’d made love, and he spent the time reveling in the view of the top of her head cradled in the crook of his arm with her brown tresses sprawled over his shoulders and chest.
Studying her, he couldn’t believe he had waited so long to do this, what he was meant to do; he’d always felt at ease in her presence, but he’d not known until this moment she was what completed him and made him feel like a whole man. All those times he’d sought her out in the stables or when she’d snuck up to the turrets to read or when she found him by the loch and sat next to him quietly when he’d been upset.
Until the day he’d pushed her away, she’d been his pillar of strength and he would hold on to her. He’d be able to enjoy her faith, strength, and love every night from here until they were old and gray with his arms cocooned around her.
He was surprised the Camerons hadn’t found them yet, but maybe the boy he’d sent back to tell Lachlan of their location had not been able to find them. Fatigue setting in, he decided to rest before Kirstie and he set out to locate her brothers. She’d probably be impossible to wake anyway, so just as the sun was coming up and his arm was falling asleep, he gently maneuvered her onto her back, snuggled up close, and threw his arm over her to finally fall into a relaxed sleep.
…
Familiar voices floated through the air, pulling Alan from a dreamless sleep.
“I’ll check in here,” Malcolm’s voice sounded as Alan glanced to the clothes he’d thrown over the side of the stall to dry before they’d lain down. There was no way to reach them before they would be discovered.
When a warm, chestnut mop of curls matching Kirstie’s peered over the partition into the small space, Malcolm’s mouth fell open, and Alan would have laughed had he not had the sudden worry Lachlan would be angry at catching them together like this.
Spurring on the dread, the youngest of the Cameron siblings turned over his shoulder and yelled, “Lachlan, I think ye need to get in here.”
His heart froze as his laird, the man who had been his brother and best friend most of his life, peered over the railing to see him naked, tangled in a heap with the man’s only sister. Luckily, the blankets still covered their more intimate parts, but the old fear of the division between his father and uncle came crashing down on him, and suddenly he was too hot beneath the covers.
Would he have to choose between Lachlan or a life in exile with Kirstie?
He stammered as he tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t damage their bond any further.
Surprising him, a dimpled smile stared back at him. “Well, it looks like Kirstie will finally be coming home. ’Tis about time the two of ye came to yer senses.”
“Ye arenae angry?”
“Nae. I’ve kenned all along ye should be together, but the decision had to be made by ye and her. Mother and I discussed it, and we thought it best not to push either of ye.”
His muscles relaxed, but that gave in to a flush that spread through his body as he tried to decide how he was going to get to his shirt and plaid.
“I sent ye ahead to Edinburgh because I kenned she would be there. I was hoping ’twould push things along, because with it looking more like war and the uncertainty of the Macnab clan, I was planning on telling her ’tis time she comes home.”
Alan felt his brows crinkle together. So Lachlan had planned to torture him with Kirstie’s presence. It had worked, and he couldn’t be angry because it had been what he’d needed all along and not known.
“Mother will want to ken right away. We should be able to catch up to them in a day or two. Put on yer clothes and get out here so ye can tell me why the building is burned to the ground and what happened to the Menzies man.” The brothers turned and walked from the stable, leaving him to ponder how long his friend had known about his feelings for Kirstie.
Rising, he carefully slid sideways, making sure to keep his kitten covered as he snuck from the blankets. As expected, she made a small sigh of protest but kept dozing peacefully.
Stepping out into the midmorning sun, he became aware of the complete devastation of the inn. The rain had subsided sometime in the early morning hours, but a damp feeling clung to the air, despite the promise of a warm, sunny day to come.
“So ye kenned all along?”
“’Twould have had to be blind not to miss ye two always sneaking looks at each other. And all those times ye wouldnae practice with me in the lists only to hear ye’d been up on the turrets listening to her read.”
A strong hand gripped his shoulder as Malcolm’s laughter split through the air. “We used to make a game of spying on ye two.”
They stepped closer to the inn, where Hamish’s body still laid prone on the wet earth. “Did everyone make it through the battle?”
“Mostly. We lost Henry and a Fraser.” An image of the cowardly Highlander pushing his friend into harm’s way intruded, and he couldn’t fight the scowl as Lachlan relayed the information.
Looking around, he took in all the Cameron men standing around the burned building. “Where’s Finlay?”
“He went to give Blair the news. He should join us shortly.”
Alan relayed last evening’s events for his brothers, and they vowed to come back and help the innkeepers rebuild.
“Now, go wake my sister. We need to be on our way home. Oh, and tell her we brought Poseidon. She’ll be pleased to see him.”
Moments later, he knelt over his hope for the future, the one thing he’d never thought he could have, the woman who would become his wife and give life to their children. Waking her with a kiss was easier than he’d expected. She purred with pleasure, then he pulled back. “Time to go, kitten.”
Her lazy, hooded eyes widened. “Are my brothers here?”
“Aye, they are safe and ready to head back to Kentillie.”
“Damn, I have to talk to Lachlan. He has to ken I want to be with ye.” She bolted up, heedless to her state of undress, and the blankets fell to her hips.
“’Tis all right, kitten. He approves.” He wasn’t sure if he should be looking at her eyes, her assets, or telling her to get her clothes on before someone walked by.
“Ye spoke to him? He is happy for us?”
“Aye.”
She threw her arms around him and nearly knocked him over.
“I love ye, Kirstie.” He’d been afraid to voice it until now, until he knew that speaking the words wouldn’t rip her from him.
“I love ye,” she said as he drew her in tighter.
Pulling back, he glanced at her naked state again, pleased he would wake to her this way every day from now on. Tamping down the desire she stirred, he said, “Now, get dressed and let’s go home.”
Epilogue
After brushing down Poseidon, Kirstie closed his door and walked down the line of stalls toward the exit of the stables. Although it was her last run-through of the day, a warm glow from the setting October sun still cast bright beams through the windows and doors, leaving hints of gold floating through the air.
She still found it hard to believe she was back at Kentillie and that Wallace had asked her to take over because he’d been suffering with a bad back. He’d said, “Yer the only person I trust,” and Lachlan had agreed to let her run the stables.
A large dog ran in through the front door, speeding straight down the aisle; she turned as it passed and watched it scoot through the open back door. Brodie, her cousin, yelled from somewhere outside, “Raghnall.”
She laughed and was about to turn to leave when arms swept around her, pulling her back into a hard, familiar body smelling of woods and spice.
“Did ye miss me?” Alan whispered in her ear before nipping at it, eliciting a response she had become well famili
ar with.
“More than ye can ken.” Twisting, she wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him as close as her stomach would allow for a long, deep kiss. Resting her head on his shoulder, she snuggled in and asked, “Is it done?”
“Aye. The inn is rebuilt, bigger and better than before.” A satisfied smile turned his lips up. She was happy that he, Lachlan, and a large group of Cameron men had been able to help the innkeepers, especially with Alan’s guilt over the loss of the couple’s livelihood.
“And they were pleased?”
“They even invited us to stay anytime we want.”
“’Twas nice of them, but I think no’. This is the only place I belong.” She kissed his cheek.
“I havenae been able to sleep without ye by my side and reading to me before bed.”
“I missed ye.”
Releasing her, he reached down into a satchel she’d not noticed before. “I missed ye, too, so I brought ye something.”
“Books!” she squealed as he drew out three bound leather volumes.
Draping his arm around her as her fingers traced the gold lettering on the cover of the volume on top, he guided her through the door and out into the waning daylight. “Now let’s go home. I need my wife, a warm bed, and a good story.”
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Acknowledgments
Special thanks to:
Robin Haseltine, for her guidance and diligent attention to detail, her continued faith in me, and all the hard work and time she has dedicated to making the Highland Pride series the best it can be. She is a truly gifted editor.
Jessica Watterson, who will drop other things to have wine and cheese with me. She has been my advocate and sounding board. Fate found a way to bring us together, despite my poor choice in footwear, and I will be forever grateful you are my agent.
My best friend, my husband, for his love, support, and for understanding when the story calls and I forget what we’re talking about that I still love him and he will always be my real-life hero.
My kids and my parents, Jo Ann and David Bailey, for encouraging me and being proud of what I do.
Eliza Knight and Madeline Martin. There is no way to voice how much these two women mean to me. I treasure our special bond and how we support each other every day. I love you guys.
My writing tribe, for sharing their enthusiasm, love of the craft, and wisdom along with keeping me motivated and on track. I will always be eternally grateful to: Michele Sandiford, Harper Kincaid, Denny S. Bryce, Jennifer McKeone, Nadine Monaco, Keely Thrall, Gabriel Ross, Jessica Snyder, and everyone in WRWDC.
And as always, for you, the reader, who picked up this book and gave me a chance to share a piece of my heart.
About the Author
Lori Ann Bailey is a winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award and Holt Medallion for Best First Book and Best Historical. She has a romantic soul and believes the best in everyone. Sappy commercials and proud mommy moments make her cry.
She sobs uncontrollably and feels emotionally drained when reading sad books, so she started reading romance for the Happily Ever Afters. She was hooked.
Then, the characters and scenes running around in her head as she attempted to sleep at night begged to be let out. Looking back now, her favorite class in high school was the one where a professor pulled a desk to the center of the room and told her to write two paragraphs about it and the college English class taught by a red-headed Birkenstock wearing girl, not much older than she, who introduced her to Jack Kerouac. After working in business and years spent as a stay-at-home mom she has found something in addition to her family to be passionate about, her books.
When not writing, Lori enjoys time with her real-life hero and four kids or spending time walking or drinking wine with her friends.
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