“Are you opposed to a wee bit of grass on your gown or in your hair?” His fingers ran the length of it as he asked. “Keep in mind, I would wash any remains away for you.”
“You’ll do my laundry,” she teased with a small giggle.
Conall laughed and lifted her face in guiding hands to brush his lips over hers and taste her mouth with soft, caressing sighs. “If needed, aye, though ken I would prefer to wash your hair or any other part of you needing my care.”
Sarah grinned against his mouth, wondering when he had become so gifted at heated innuendo. “I can think of a few places your care is needed right now.”
His eyes wandered over her face with the green glowing and humor meshing with heat, to then trail down her, leaving her wishing his hands would follow the same path. “I must care for my wife lest she doubt my heart beats only for her.”
Moisture pricked her eyes with the almost-declaration that neither one of them seemed ready to make. But given how far they’d come in only twenty-four hours, it didn’t matter.
Stepping backward as he walked her closer to the center of the clearing, still locked together, created an intimate dance. Sarah laughed as they tumbled to the ground in a mock-fall that Conall instigated and controlled. Bright sunlight flitted through the leaves and sparkled over his jet-black hair.
Staring up into his eyes and ignoring the natural beauty around them, Sarah ran her finger over his lips, hoping to slowly savor their isolated time. “I should warn you that the sun brings out more freckles.”
With raised eyebrows, Conall toyed with the laces on her bodice. “Will you burn?” His concern was out before tantalizing promises.
“Not likely given the trees breaking up most of the sunlight, but those pesky freckles don’t need a lot of encouragement.” Her eyes studied his as she tried her best to maintain a serious air.
Conall titled his head and pondered much to her amusement. “Mayhap I should count how many exist to compare to the number later this night.”
Her mouth opened in a sigh loaded with longing, not caring how much of her desire for him she revealed. “I like that idea.”
Shifting to allow his hands to tug open the binding, fresh air brushed over her skin to be covered by kisses from a mouth that counted, “One, two, three. . .”
Not following Sarah’s comment, Conall asked, “I had heard the land of Arizona lacked the cold and snow of winter.” It had always been part of the legends that intrigued him. No harsh winters to freeze the land seemed nearly as impossible as doorways leading to other times.
The head resting on his bare chest lifted and dazzling blue peered down at him. “But I’m not from Arizona. I only lived there less than two years. My family is from the far north, the mythical land of Wisconsin.” Hearing her jest, he chuckled at her mirth.
“And winter comes to Wisconsin?” Conall asked, wanting to know more about her.
“The phrase ‘winter is coming’ takes on a whole new meaning back home.” Though her laughter made no sense, he joined her. “Yes, we have snow, freezing cold, ice and all the brutal conditions you could ever want.” He caught it; the instant mirth left her gaze to become sorrow.
“You miss it, you miss your clan.” Having missed his for the better part of a decade, knowing he would return home someday had kept him fighting to stay alive.
After sharing stories of her home and her family, Sarah gave him a weak smile and returned her head to his chest. “I miss them and all of the chaos that makes family. I would give almost anything to hear one of my mother’s lectures.” Her eyes closed. “I’m going to miss my sister’s babies.”
“You spoke of such on the early morn we took our first ride together.” He recalled the ride to where she had entered his time and how hard it had been to keep his thoughts away from claiming her.
She still wouldn’t look at him and her voice only held mourning for those lost to her. She laid her head back on his chest. “Every time I think I’ve come to terms with being here, I remember why my world was so wonderful.”
Running his hand over her hair, Conall pondered how to ease her unhappiness, but doubted his ability. “I would never wish you away from me, even with your sadness.”
Warm lips brushed his bare chest. “I’m not sure that I’d wish myself away. While my life held many ideal aspects, none of them were you.” Her breath blew against his skin. “But I will always miss them and wonder about their lives.”
He lifted his head to kiss her brow. “Should we be blessed with a daughter, we could name her Rachel if ‘twould please you.”
Sarah remained silent for too long and his skin prickled with fear he had made the wrong offer. One hand ran over his stomach and then clung to him. “I think I’d really like that, a little Rachel. Thank you.”
“Aught within my ability, ‘tis yours. I wish I could do more to ease your pain.”
“I will always miss them.” Once more, sadness haunted her voice.
“As I will always miss my parents and my sister. We will share our grief and as we share the rest.” Airing his wandering thoughts, he asked, ““Would your parents approve of our marriage?” While it truly had no bearing, he wanted her thoughts.
“I doubt it,” Sarah answered with a heavy sigh. “Mom would adore you and how you treat me in every way. But she would have insisted that we dated, or courted, for about two years before we married. For the record, my dad would have agreed with that.”
“Two years?” Conall snorted, wrapping his arms around her waist, always seeking more and more contact with her. “Such is nonsensical. While we married in only a few days, I knew you were the missing piece of me.”
The head against his chest peered up at him with happy eyes. “You do have a wonderful way of being sweet.”
Kissing her forehead, Conall laughed. “I can nay imagine waiting for two years to call you my wife.” Staying away from her for three days had been a slow and brutal torture. “Would your parents give us their blessing, given how much we care for the other?”
He could feel her lips curve in a grin against his chest. “I think--no, I know if they saw us together they would approve. You’d charm her easily and one conversation about hunting deer with a bow and arrow and my dad would have been your new best friend.”
He liked the idea that Sarah’s parents would have met him gladly, but doubted his ability to charm anyone given his lack of practice. But his thoughts turned to his parents and the notion he shared loss with his wife. “My mother would have loved you, your spirit and the fire burning in your eyes. My da would have berated me for claiming you while we were deep in our cups but would have welcomed you all the same.” He shared tales of his parents and the life he had known as a child, safe and happy on his ancestral lands.
A warm hand covered his that kept her close. “We both feel the loss and yet here we sit to share such pain. Does it make you sad to speak of it?” If she were here to aid him, he would do the same for her.
“Yes and no. I miss them and worry about them looking for me, but then, they haven’t been born yet. It’s all kind of confusing.” Sarah shook her head and curls danced under his chin.
Conall nodded, not quite certain how to respond to the mysteries of time. “I once heard a legend that my ancestor changed time to ensure a better future, that she, in truth, created my clan with her wisdom.”
Shifting in his hold, Sarah’s confused blue depths met his gaze. The quick movement left her shoulder bare thanks to the still untied shift, her gown tossed near his shirt, forgotten after their passion shared. Leaning down, he placed a chaste kiss to the skin.
“What do you mean, she changed time? That isn’t possible,” Sarah declared as if she knew all and he chuckled at her certainty about to be thrown away.
Scooting in the grass to face her, Conall pulled a few pieces of greenery from her tangled hair. “I ken the tale of my ancestor who created the door that brought you to me. Would you hear it?”
Crossing her legs in front of her, Sar
ah leaned forward. “Tell me the story.”
“A fine one to share and for the rest of my days I will honor my ancestor who brought you to me.” Conall spent the remainder of the afternoon in the peaceful glade telling Sarah of his ancestors, Samantha and Faolan, and the opening of doors, the battle against warriors of the dragon-god and of years of peace and love. All the while, he dared to dream that such a future would be theirs to share.
Chapter 26
Checking the blow with his sword, Conall pushed abruptly away from his sparring partner. “Enough.” Stalking to the edge of the training field, he heard the swordplay cease where clashes should have filled the air. His skin prickled with an awareness he had not thought to feel. His gaze quickly found her striding toward him and his welcoming smile fell away. “What are you about?”
“You said I could join you.” Sarah dared to grin at him as she stood only two paces away.
“I said I would teach you, nay you dressed as a lad. Go back and clothe yourself properly.” That she laughed at his demand had his hand clenched on the pommel of his weapon. “‘Tis nay fitting for you to be attired such.”
Her lip pushed out on a pout that teased. “You don’t like how I look?”
Sweeping his gaze down from her restrained hair, a shirt that must belong to one of the men and a pair of leather trews that covered her legs as if they were skin and the answer came readily. “Nay.”
“Why?” Her voice shifted to wounded and he stepped closer to prevent being overheard by all the warriors.
“All of you is revealed and only I should ever see such wonders.” Life came back to her gaze and he waited for her to change her garb.
“Well, now everyone knows I have legs, two of them to be precise.” Her hands pulled the oversized shirt out from the waistband to allow the fabric to gather over her thighs. “Better?”
Men chuckling at her refusal only fueled his irritation. The only item on her that pleased him remained the sight of his dagger tied to her waist. “Nay. Change and then we will train.”
“Stop being so stubborn. Until I have a feel for it, the long skirts will be in my way.” Her stubborn chin stuck out and her hands fisted on her hips. “Please, Conall?” Given her tone shifting to a hungry whisper, he knew she intended to make him recall the same please leaving her lips in the early light of dawn.
Growling, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I dinna like it.”
Sarah laughed at him and dared to press her body against his. “You don’t have to like it, just train me.”
Unable to resist her head against his neck and the soft brush of her lips, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. “I wonder if all women of legend were so strong-headed.”
“Probably,” she immediately answered. When his hands ran over her back, his finger explored a hidden wrapping around her chest. She chuckled. “I wrapped up the goodies. Can’t have them bouncing all over the place.”
With that, Conall lost his irritation and chuckled into her bound hair.
“Am I forgiven?”
“Mayhap, but no training for you.” His hand ran down to back to cup her behind encased in leather. “I have other ideas and mayhap a few questions.” When he bent to scoop her up, Sarah twisted and remained out of his reach.
“I came here to train, not to be mauled. So, let’s get to work.” She winked at his surprise.
Am I more shocked she evaded my grasp or my offer?
From behind, a voice called out. “She may have the right of it, Laird. Let her learn the footwork when I can see it and then later she can continue attired as she would daily.”
Conall turned and glowered at Donald, the man responsible for training the men in his absence. “I will train her.”
“Nay,” he corrected. “You would check your attacks and never give her a proper challenge.” Donald strode to Sarah and gave her a slight bow. “I will train you provided you agree to heed me. I heard of your deed in the hall and admire such skills. But here, I work with the swords. Would you learn?”
“Yes, please,” Sarah agreed quickly, much to Conall’s disgust.
“Fine, however I will nay teach you as I would the men. I doubt you will ever find yourself alone and needing to be skilled for combat. Yet ‘tis risk in life. As I have with my wife and daughters, you shall learn to defend and strike fast to allow for escape. Agreed?” Donald held her eyes and waited for a reply.
The twinkle in her gaze had Conall wondering what went on in her thoughts as she readily agreed. He could read the omission and knew Donald had missed it.
In minutes, Sarah held a wooden blade and Donald did the same. All beginners started with blunt weapons, though most were young lads. Ignoring his own training, Conall caught her correct grip on the weapon that allowed it to swing and move as a part of her body, rather than a tool. He recalled her speaking of training with her mother and wondered exactly what that meant.
Donald held his feet hip-width apart and lightly swung his weapon down to immediately be blocked by his wife. “You have some skill,” the trainer acknowledged and then struck again to the side.
Rather than holding her ground, Sarah bounced on the soles of her feet forward and backward, then left and right as she blocked the weak strikes. All eyes remained on them as Donald tested her ability and sought her weak spots.
Then Sarah jumped into a strike to block his arm with hers, wrapped her arm around the one bearing the weapon, effectively trapping Donald’s arm while placing her blade against his throat. Cheers rang out from the men while Donald nodded his satisfaction.
“Are you going to train me or dance with me?” Sarah challenged him. “If I wanted someone to go easy on me, I’d work with Conall.”
“You married the correct woman,” Donald praised as he pushed her away a bit too roughly for Conall’s taste. “I will train you to live, nay battle, so cease your tricks.”
“My tricks, as you call them, may help me if they aren’t expected.” Sarah’s challenge had the trainer nodding even if he was still frowning.
“Mayhap, yet follow my lead.” Donald continued with quick strikes not meant to truly kill, only injure and showed Sarah the best means to block and then strike. The pair continued until Conall called for a rest as the sun moved across the sky.
Using her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow, Sarah took the cup of water from his hands and drank it down. “I am completely out of shape.” Her breath came in gasps with the strenuous afternoon.
“Your shape is fine,” Conall immediately replied. He adored her full flesh.
Her gaze raked over his chest. “As is yours, but I can barely breathe, and you aren’t even sweating.”
Conall nodded. “I have been too busy watching you.”
“Then why is he going easy on me?” Sarah asked softly, clearly not wishing to be overheard.
Exhaling slowly, Conall pulled her against him and kissed her hair that escaped the confines never meant to hold it. “Donald is wise and kens his business. Should you ever encounter an armed man, ‘tis likely the goal would be to stop you or injure only, nay kill you.”
Her head shifted back and confused eyes held his. “But why? Not that I want someone to try to kill me, but isn’t that kind of the goal?”
Kissing her forehead, Conall let his gaze fall to the trees in the distance that swayed in the afternoon’s breeze, not certain how to tell his naïve wife of the brutal horrors that lived in the world. Gentle hands pulled his face down to once again face her.
“Don’t hide from me,” Sarah challenged him.
“But I would seek to keep you safe from fears that do nay plague you,” he offered, meaning every word.
“Oh,” she whispered with a soft smile that did not carry joy. “I know what you mean. Women face those same dangers in my time. Which is why my mother does what she does, or part of the reason. So, you don’t have to talk about it. I know what you’re saying.”
Conall closed his eyes to view the remembrance of broken wo
men caught in battles never meant for them and then opened them to see his wife.
“Breathe, Conall,” Sarah commanded him.
“It does me nay harm to recall such, though you may think otherwise. I fight for them even as I would fight to keep our lands safe. At times, the darkness serves me well.” Conall admitted not certain if he expressed it with enough meaning.
“Do you use the atrocities you have seen to provoke you into fighting?” Her question made him nod.
“Aye, I do. Otherwise I merely face a man who has done no wrong to me that I ken. If I see the ruins of villages, the faces of the dead and those whose spirit has been killed, I am able to do as I must,” Conall admitted, not sure why he felt the need to admit his technique.
“I understand,” her soft voice told him. “And I hate that you need to find the darkness to survive.”
“See, you seek to save me from what I need. Rest your skills and allow me to do what I must.” Conall added with another kiss to her head.
“I had that coming after yesterday, didn’t I?” Sarah asked with a wince. After the evening meal, they had walked by the cliffs to watch the moon rise over the water. When he had become lost in the raw beauty, once again she had encouraged him to save the moment in his heart, to allow it to keep him from drowning when needed.
“You seek to aid where none is required, but I am grateful beyond telling that you would also seek the light with me and for me. Just ken ‘tis nay always needed. I will do as needed as I have pledged. Then I will return home and pray I never need such again.”
“How long have you promised to serve him?” Sarah left out the title, yet he knew she meant the Bruce.
Grinning at her, he said, “One always serves the king, yet my vow ends after this summer.” He left out that his vow and the king’s wishes may be different.
“One more summer in the year 1314,” she whispered and then pulled back with her brow crinkled. “I want to swear I know something but can’t remember the details.”
“Do you ken of my future?” Conall asked, not certain he wished for foresight of days yet to be lived.
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