A Rebel's Desire (Highland Heartbeats Book 2)

by Aileen Adams

  It wasn't a request.

  Clean, with a full night's rest, and her wounds taken care of, Heather did feel better. Not necessarily stronger. As she allowed Sarah to help her sit up in bed, she felt the protest in seemingly every muscle in her body and winced.

  “You've had a very rough time,” Sarah said, lifting the bowl of steaming broth from the table by the bed. She stirred the broth with a spoon and then offered a small sip to Heather. “And now, while you eat, you're going to tell me everything that happened. From the moment you ran out of the house until the moment we found you.”

  So she did, without leaving out any details.

  Sarah listened without interruption. By the time she finished, her sister frowned deeply, the bowl of broth finished. She placed the wooden bowl and spoon back on the table and then turned to her sister.

  Heather spoke first.

  “Can you forgive me?” she whispered. She swallowed, cleared her throat, and spoke from her heart. “I know I behaved foolishly, running off like that. Not paying attention. Getting lost. I was just…”

  “I understand, Heather,” Sarah said, reaching for her sister's hand. “I love you dearly. I always have. But I’m warning you, that if you ever do that again, behave so rashly again, as to endanger your life, I’ll…” she sighed. “I'm just so glad that you’re alive.”

  Heather nodded. That much was true. “But what I did to Jake—”

  “You didn't do anything to Jake,” Sarah interrupted gently. “You saved his life.”

  “And he saved mine. Sarah, if he hadn't climbed down the side of the cliff and then pulled both of us back up… if he hadn't come looking for me… yes, I would be dead.” She shook her head. “But if it were not for my rash behavior, none of this would have happened.”

  Sarah nodded in agreement. “That much is true. But you have learned, as have I, that thinking and acting irrationally can prove dangerous.”

  “And Jake is paying for it.”

  “You didn't hurt him, Heather,” Sarah reminded. “It was Ceana. Again.”

  “Why does she hate him so much?”

  “I'm not sure,” Sarah sighed. “I suppose it is because he didn't love her as much as she loved him.”

  Heather said nothing for several moments. “I meant what I said, Sarah. I love Jake. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but I'll tell you one thing. Even if he doesn't love me back, I would never do anything to hurt him. Not on purpose.”

  Sarah smiled. “I know you wouldn't. That's because you're a good, kind hearted woman, Heather, and Jake knows that too. Now, I need you to rest.”

  Heather allowed her sister to maneuver her under the covers. She didn't want to rest. She wanted to go to Jake, to sit with him. But if she pushed herself too hard and too fast, Sarah would end up having to take care of her too.

  Jake needed all of Sarah's attention and skills.

  So, sighing with impatience and making Sarah promise to tell her how Jake was doing every hour, she allowed herself to rest.

  * * *

  When next Heather opened her eyes, her room glowed with firelight and candlelight danced on the table near the bed. She stared at it for several moments, mesmerized, and then heard the creak of the chair.

  She turned toward the sound, expecting Sarah to be sitting in the chair beside the bed. Her eyes widened with surprise to find Phillip sitting there, arms crossed over his chest, staring at her.

  “Phillip—”

  She noted his unshaven face, his weariness, the way he slouched in the chair.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Jake—”

  “He's resting, Heather,” Phillip said, straightening in the chair. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “He woke briefly a little while ago. Sarah said he has a way to go toward healing, and he's lost a lot of blood so will be weak for a few days, but she seems to think that he's going to recover.”

  “Thank God for that,” she sighed.

  Relief surged through her. She looked at Phillip. Why was he sitting here in her room watching her sleep? A niggling of uncertainty swept through her. Would she be punished for putting Jake’s life in danger?

  “Phillip, I’m so sorry for… well, for behaving like a child. My actions caused a lot of trouble and nearly cost your brother his life. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. Or him.”

  “Sarah told me everything that happened. While it is true that Jake wouldn't have been up there if he hadn't come looking for you, you did not cause his injuries. Ceana Cameron did. She's not making things any easier for herself. This is the second time she has tried to kill my brother.”

  Heather didn't have anything to say to that. The woman must be mad. Jealousy, hurt, and rejection must be very strong emotions in that woman.

  “First your sister and now you.”

  Heather gazed at Phillip, not comprehending. “What?”

  He offered a smile. “Sarah saved my brother's life the first time. You saved him the second.” He reached for her hand. “You risked your life for my brother. You have my undying gratitude for that.”

  Surprised, Heather stared at him, unable to stop the warm tears filling her eyes. “And he saved mine.”

  Phillip nodded. “You both have the heart of warriors,” he said.

  Odd, Jake had said much the same thing.

  She had thought the same about Jake. “He's going to be all right?”

  “A bit of rest and he'll be fine,” Phillip said. “In fact, if he's not trying to get out of bed by morning, bellowing at the top of his lungs that he's got things to do, I'll be surprised.”

  Heather smiled. She looked to the fireplace, stared at the dancing flames for several moments and then risked another glance toward Phillip. He had heard her claim her declaration of love for his brother. Would he have anything to say about that?

  She didn’t know.

  He moved to stand.

  “You get some sleep. I'm sure Jake will be stronger tomorrow, and you can visit with him then.”

  She nodded and watched as Phillip left the room, closing the door softly behind him. She heard the sound of low voices out in the hallway, then footsteps as he moved off.

  The rest, the broth, and now her relief that Jake was going to be all right brightened her spirits. She decided she didn't want to wait. Couldn't wait until morning to see Jake. She had to see with her own eyes.

  Gathering her resolve, she slowly flung the covers back, wincing with even that slight movement. She shook her head, amazed how every muscle in her body felt like it had been thrashed.

  Slowly, she sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet against the wood floor. Slowly, she stood, hobbling awkwardly as she made her way toward the door, trying not to place all her weight on her injured knee as she moved toward it, awkwardly hopping and stepping.

  Her arm throbbed. Strange how she had hardly felt the pain in her leg or her arm until now. Maybe that's because the danger had passed. She didn't know.

  Reaching for the hook next to the door, she grabbed her shawl, slowly and painfully wrapped it around her shoulders, and then opened the door latch. She then peeked outside, but didn't see anyone in the hallway.

  It wouldn't be the first time that she had snuck out of her room, but this time her reasoning was different. This time she was not sneaking out of the house, but sneaking toward Jake's room at the other end of the hallway.

  She moved slowly and carefully, trying not to step on any creaking boards. While she knew every creaking piece of wood on the floor from her room to the stairs and out the front door of the manor, the same couldn't be said of her journey toward Jake's door.

  In a short time, she paused in front of it, wondering what she would say if Phillip or Sarah or perhaps both were sitting in the room with Jake. What if someone from the household staff was behind that door? She decided that she didn't know and she didn't care. She was going to sit with Jake, and no one was going to stop her.

  Slowly, she opened the door and peeked inside
.

  As in her room, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and a candle glowed on a small table near the head of his bed.

  No one else was in the room. S

  he stepped tentatively and keeping her eyes fastened on him in the bed, she softly closed the door behind her, not wanting to disturb him. She moved closer to the bed, thinking to sit in the chair nearby, but the rush of emotion that overtook her prompted her to change her path.

  He slept soundly, perhaps still unconscious. He would never know.

  She longed to feel his closeness; had to assure herself that he was going to be all right.

  Not caring what any of the house staff, Sarah, or even what Phillip might think, Heather stepped toward the bed.

  Carefully, she sat down, and then, wincing with the strain of her muscles, stretched out beside him, lying on her side, her left hand coming to rest on his chest. He didn't move. His deep breathing didn't change.

  Was he really going to be all right? He had to be. She remained still for several moments and then moved her head so that it rested on his shoulder, his good shoulder. She inhaled the scent of his skin, freshly washed and shaven, the scent of herbs from the poultice that Sarah had made for his shoulder. His warmth filled her with a sense of peace.

  Her heart pumped at the realization of the depth of her affection for him. She'd told Sarah the truth. She didn't know when it happened, but she knew that she loved this man. Whether he loved her back didn't matter so much right now.

  All that mattered was that he was alive and that she had not hastened him toward an early death.

  “I love you, Jake,” she whispered.

  Silence, only the sound of his breathing and the occasional crackle from the fireplace breaking that silence. She felt his chest lift as his breath hitched, and for a moment she froze.

  What if he woke to find lying next to him? What would he think? Despite her earlier sense of bravado, she decided she didn't want to risk it. Not just yet. If and when he refused her and told her that he couldn't or wouldn't love her in return, she would deal with it, and not in the way that Ceana Cameron had.

  She moved her hand from his chest, prepared to maneuver her way off of his bed when suddenly Jake's hand captured hers in his own.

  She gasped and lifted her head, looking into his face. Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath when she noticed the dim glow of the firelight reflected in his eyes.

  “You're doing it again, lass.”

  “Doing what?” she croaked, mortified to have been caught, and by him no less!

  “Acting without thinking.”

  Her heart trip-hammered and disappointment swept through her. Fighting back the tears of rejection, she shifted her body away from his, hoping that she could salvage at least a modicum of dignity as she left him in peace.

  “I'm sorry, Jake. I just had to see you.” She tried to pull her hand from his grasp. “I'll leave you be.”

  “Do you know that your reputation could be damaged if you're caught in here with me like this?”

  She frowned.

  Odd. He didn't sound angry, but the question did elicit concern on her part.

  He was right. She hadn't thought about it one bit. It certainly wasn't proper—

  “We’re not properly betrothed, Heather. You do realize that, don't you?”

  Again, she stammered to form a reply.

  So, there it was.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “So there's only one thing to do about that.”

  She frowned. What was he talking about? “What you mean?”

  “Did you mean what you said?”

  “What?”

  “That you love me?”

  She felt heat flame in her cheeks, but she wouldn't deny it. “Yes, I meant it.”

  She saw a flash of his teeth as he smiled.

  Her heart skipped a beat again.

  “I must admit, despite your often rash, impetuous behavior, Heather MacDonald, that I have grown quite foolishly fond of you as well. And since I've caught you in my bed, and knowing that any moment someone might walk in and find us like this, I believe there's only one thing to do.”

  She stared down at him, uncomprehending.

  “Heather MacDonald, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She wasn't sure she had heard correctly. She scowled down at him. “Are you saying that just because I snuck in here? Because I can leave—”

  “No.”

  “Are you feverish?”

  “I don't believe so. Want to feel my forehead?” Without waiting for her reply, he lifted her hand, still clasped in his, to his forehead. “Well, am I?”

  “No,” she choked out.

  “Well then, what do you say, lass?”

  She allowed herself a small smile while her heart pounded and her blood pulsed through her veins. She stared down at his face, mere inches from hers.

  Suddenly, his lips were on hers.

  He kissed her with a tenderness that nearly took her breath away.

  She felt no pain, no fatigue, no more guilt. Her heart and spirit soared.

  She lifted her head slightly and stared down at his rugged features. “Aye… I'll marry you, Jake Duncan. If you're foolish enough to want to marry me, I suppose I have to say yes.”

  A sound rumbled from deep in his chest, and he chuckled before kissing her again.

  She kissed him back, amazed that something so good had come out of something that could have been so very bad.

  But one thing she knew for certain.

  Her heart belonged to him and forever would.

  THE END

  Afterword

  I hope you enjoyed A Rebel’s Desire! I can’t wait to bring you the next book in this series!

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  Copyright © 2017 by Aileen Adams

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