A Highlander's Reiver (Highland Temptations Book 3)

by Aileen Adams

  He all but jumped from his skin, so great was his desperation for her. “What did she say? How is everything?”

  Davina offered a knowing, understanding smile. “She is well. Very well, in fact, and everything at the house is going well. She and Liam are comfortable and cared for.”

  He waited. When nothing else followed, he asked, “What else? What of me? Ye said she longs for me.”

  “Ye sound as though she means a great deal to ye.”

  “If ye dinna cease torturing me…”

  She covered his mouth with one hand. “She longs for ye. She does. She wept when speaking of ye, for ye caused her great pain. She misses the twins terribly and wishes for all of ye to be together.”

  When she lowered her hand, he found his voice. “Ye mean it? That is the truth?”

  “It is.”

  “Because if I make a fool of myself…”

  “More of a fool than ye have already made?” When he lowered his brow, looking at her through narrowed eyes, she chuckled. “I mean it. I speak the truth. Now, tell me. What do ye intend to do about it?”

  What did he intend to do?

  He turned to the twins. “Put your cloaks on. We are leaving.”

  “So soon?” Owen despaired.

  Drew ruffled his hair. “Aye, and I believe ye shall be glad when ye see where we go.”

  Shana had not exaggerated when she told Davina of the improvements Anne made—or, rather, the improvements she had overseen. The house and the surrounding buildings were in better condition, the walls having been scrubbed and rinsed, the thatched roofs patched or replaced. The weeds and brush which had grown thick along the bottom of the stone wall bordering the road were no more, the broken bits of tools and carts and harnesses which he’d noted beside the stables were a memory.

  Men from the village had been out to assist them, he’d learned upon passing through Avoch. Once the villagers had learned of what the brother and sister had suffered, they’d decided to do all they could to help them build their lives.

  Drew did not envy the men in question, knowing full well how challenging such work could be. Neglect was more damaging to land and buildings than nearly any other force.

  Even so, he ought to have been there to oversee. At least to help. Instead, he’d left her on her own.

  And Shana said she longed for him? How was it possible? Had the girl gone daft?

  “Uncle Drew, where are we?” Moira looked about, kneeling in the cart when he’d asked her not to only twenty times—which was a hundred times fewer than Owen, he would grant her.

  He looked over his shoulder to where the bairns rode side-by-side beneath a pile of furs. “Ye shall see. Not much longer now.”

  “Are ye taking us here to…” Owen exchanged a troubled look with his sister. “Leave us?”

  Drew brought the team of draught horses to an abrupt halt and turned on the bench. “Let us get one thing clear, now and always. Ye ken?” He looked them both in the eye, taking turns between them.

  How dark their eyes, how large and wondering and doubtful. How silent they were. Such a rarity for the two.

  He leaned down, his voice low. “I love ye both as if ye were my own bairns and I would never abandon ye. Do ye ken? Not ever. I intend to keep ye with me, always, or at least until ye grow old enough to tire of me. I dinna wish to hear ye ever, ever say such a thing again, for it simply is not true. I could not…”

  Emotion stole away his words, his breath. He could not live without them now. Being without Anne for even a fortnight reminded him of what it meant to lose someone he loved, and he had no intention of suffering so again.

  A creaking noise came from the house. The three of them turned to find Anne standing in the doorway, peering out as she wiped her hands on her apron and blew an auburn curl back from her forehead. That small gesture, so thoroughly hers, all but melted Drew’s heart. How he had missed her.

  How he had not been the only one. The twins, upon recognizing her, fought their way out from beneath the furs and jumped up and down in the cart.

  “Anne! Anne!” they shrieked in utter joy, waving their arms, barely waiting for Drew to place them on the ground before running to her.

  For her part, she lifted her skirts and dashed from the house, scooping them both up and nearly toppling over. “My dears!” she gasped, holding them close while they hung from her neck.

  “Where have ye been?” Moira demanded.

  “Is this your home?” Owen asked.

  “Ye did not say goodbye!”

  “I cut Moira’s hair!”

  Anne crouched, staring at Moira. “Ye did, indeed,” she marveled. “Why ever did ye do it? Moira, did ye tire of your hair?”

  The three of them burst into giggles. “All is well. It shall grow back lovelier than ever.” She kissed Moira’s head, then Owen’s. “I have so much to tell ye and show ye. There is a great room inside where he can run and play, so long as ye stay far from the hearth. My brother is inside—go in and get warm, and ask him to fetch the biscuits I baked yesterday. If he has not eaten them all up while my back was turned.”

  The bairns made haste, giggling all the way, and their shouts of laughter echoed once they were inside the house.

  Drew cleared his throat, standing just inside the wall. “They have not been this happy in a fortnight.”

  Anne wiped away happy tears as she stood, turning to face him. “Nor have I. ‘Tis a pity we were kept apart.”

  He sighed. “There is nothing I can say to take back these last days. I wish there were.”

  Her eyes narrowed in much the same manner as they had in the early days, when they’d first met. In fact, the way she studied him brought to mind an entirely different lass. One who stole that she might survive, one willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of one she loved.

  Not different, he reminded himself. For she had sacrificed for him, as well. That would never change. She would always be the sort to think of what another needed and do what it took to bring it about—no matter what might come of her as a result.

  “Dinna say that to me,” she whispered, cold now. She lifted her chin. “That is a lazy, cowardly thing to say.”

  That was unexpected. Had her heart hardened so? “What are ye on about?” he asked, dazed.

  She scoffed. “Ye come here, ye bring them along that I might soften. Did ye believe I would run to ye? Forgive all without a single word? Ye might just as well continue waiting if that was the case, Drew MacIntosh, for I have no intention of letting ye off without telling ye what is on my mind.”

  He leaned against the wall, folding his arms and planting his feet. “I would expect nothing less, and I deserve nothing less. On with it.” He braced himself.

  She had not anticipated this, it was clear. After a moment’s sputtering, she managed to gather herself.

  “Ye hurt me. Terribly so. I never imagined ye had it in ye. Ye think of yourself as a fighting man, and, after witnessing what ye are capable of, I see why. But I thought ye were fighting for me. For us. Was I wrong? Tell me now. Did I mistake what happened that night, with ye?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, lassie. I wished for much more that night. It was because I did that I rushed out like a fool, determined to kill the man who’d hurt ye. Because I knew then, after taking ye in my arms, that ye were the only woman I would ever want. Ye were mine, and he had hurt what was mine. He’d hurt what mattered to ye. I was headstrong and unthinking—though it seems ye have come out all the better for it.”

  She stared at him, breathing through parted lips, her chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. “Yours?”

  “Mine. So long as ye wish it so, yet even if ye did not, ye would be here.” He tapped a fist to his heart. “And here.” To his head.

  She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to calm her racing heart. “Och, Drew.”

  “And now I am the man who hurt ye, but what is there for me to do? I canna fight myself. How can I make it up to ye?”

  �
��I—I dinna expect ye to fight yourself, and I dinna expect ye to ever fight for me.”

  “That is what I do. ‘Tis who I am. It canna be helped, just as I canna help but love ye.”

  He went to her, taking slow steps—still hesitant, for there was no telling what she thought of his. Her face was a mask of surprise, and it was as yet unclear whether that surprise was pleasant or otherwise.

  “I do love ye, lass, and I was the worst sort of fool to push ye away. I assumed. I wish Rufus or Clyde, or anyone had knocked sense into my hard head, for look at the time we’ve wasted—that is…”

  Her lip trembled.

  He placed his hands on her arms. “That is, if ye love me. If ye want me as I want ye, Anne.”

  Her blue eyes were as wide as he’d ever seen them. As if she had received a great shock.

  “Anne? Are ye hearing me?”

  Her head bobbed up and down.

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “I have little practice with this sort of thing, but I believe that now is the time when ye tell me if ye want me or not.”

  “I do.” It was little more than a gasp, so soft he might have imagined it.

  Yet the flush of her cheeks and the smile which began to tug at the corners of her sweet, full mouth told him he’d heard correctly.

  Wind rustled in the trees, sending her hair flying about her head, and he tucked it behind her ears before leaning in.

  “I do love ye, woman,” he murmured, reveling in her nearness and her scent and her warmth. Everything that made her who she was, everything he could never find in another lass if he searched the world over. There was only one of her, and she was his.

  “And I love ye, foolish man.” She let out a breathless laugh. “I suppose I am just as foolish.”

  Cupping her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, he laughed along with her. “I would rather be a fool with ye than with anyone else, my heart’s darling.” And then he was kissing her, sweeping her up in his arms, holding the entire world against his body and his rapidly beating heart.

  She clung to him, clutching the cloak he wore, and he wrapped it around them both to block out the wind. It was only the two of them, holding each other, forgetting everything around them for just a little while.

  A very little while, for within moments something small but fierce collided with them and nearly sent them both sprawling.

  “What are ye doing to each other?” Owen demanded, a biscuit in one hand and crumbs down the front of his tunic.

  Life would never be dull.

  Anne giggled, hiding her face against his shoulder.

  Drew could only laugh as he ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Ye shall understand someday, lad. If ye are very fortunate.”

  Epilogue

  Never had she imagined waking in this house with a smile on her face. Never had she imagined waking with a song in her heart.

  Never, ever in her wildest dreams, had Anne imagined the great room filled with not drunken, slovenly men but with friends. Loving friends who wished her nothing but the best.

  And her husband. Hers, ever since they’d exchanged vows outside the kirk in Avoch just hours earlier.

  She took her husband’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder. It had been a long day, to be sure, and a joyful one. The feasting and dancing would last until morning, or nearly, before their guests would retire to the bedding which had been set down in the house’s many chambers. It had once held over a dozen men, after all.

  The twins had already fallen asleep, curled up beneath the table. Liam, who had just that day walked his sister through the village in her bridal finery, watched over the pair with the pride and possession of an older brother. They had charmed him instantly, and he felt himself very wise and mature when compared to them.

  Rufus doted upon Davina, who appeared as though her time would come any day. The thought of her growing any larger made Anne’s head spin. But she was happy, truly and deeply, her hand resting on her swollen belly as she laughed at something her husband said.

  Shana brought her a cup of tea, the slight swell of her belly nothing when compared to her friend’s. Her husband, William, a grand and brave soldier, spoke with several of the men from the village who’d had a hand in improving her home. He gazed across the room at his wife, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  Clyde offered to take the bairns to bed. “I fear they shall be kicked by someone in passing.” Sweet, thoughtful man.

  She hoped he would find happiness someday, for no one deserved it more.

  “Allow me.” She grinned. “’Tis a pleasure. Ye might spend a bit more time among the guests. I’ve taken note of one or two women who seem to have an interest in ye.”

  He scoffed, though there was a touch of color in his cheeks. “Not I.”

  “Aye, yourself.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I find ye quite dashing. Anyone with sense would do the same.”

  She went to the table, hand-in-hand with Drew, and they each took a twin in their arms and carried them to the small, quiet chamber reserved for their use. They were both utterly wrung out after the day’s excitement, with Owen snoring softly as Drew lowered him to the pile of furs on the floor.

  “Ye dinna mind?” Drew whispered in the dark. “Truly?”

  She knew what he meant, for they had discussed it before. Did she not mind having a family to care for so soon after their wedding? Many new husbands and wives had time together for just themselves before the bairns arrived, while their family had already come about. She would have no fewer than three young people to care for while her husband worked their land every day.

  They had decided to remain there, on the land which had once belonged to Malcolm Stuart but now belonged to them.

  Rufus had all but suggested it himself, assuring his cousin that while his presence was valued, “Ye deserve something for yourself, man. Something for ye and your family.”

  They stood, reaching for each other.

  Anne found him in the darkness, standing alongside the sleeping twins. Her arms slid around his shoulders as his found their place about her waist.

  “I have told ye time and again, Drew MacIntosh. This is my family. Here, now. If we should add to it, God be praised, and if not, I will go to my grave a happy woman.”

  He pulled her close, his breath warm as he whispered in her ear. “I do love and adore ye, Anne MacIntosh.”

  She closed her eyes, savoring his words. What a wonderful sound they made.

  I hope you enjoyed A Highlander’s Reiver!

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  Copyright © 2018 by Aileen Adams

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