Page 26 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander (The Highland’s Lawson Sisters #3)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“ P lease, dinnae blame him,” she said softly but firmly.
She could feel every pair of eyes on her, heavy with expectation and confusion. Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them in front of her.
“He did what he thought was right for his clan. He never hurt me.”
Cody scoffed from his chair, shaking his head. “He took ye from yer family, Abigail. Dragged ye away like a thief in the night. What he did was criminal, nay matter the reason.” His fists clenched.
Amara reached out and placed a calming hand on his forearm. “But the one affected most is Abigail,” she said gently. “And if she says it’s fine, then it’s fine.” Her voice was soft but resolute, and her eyes never left Abigail’s face.
Cody’s jaw worked, his eyes blazing, but then he slowly sat back.
“I dinnae like it,” he muttered. “But if it’s truly yer will, Abigail, then I’ll hold me tongue. For now.”
He looked away, the tension in his shoulders still visible.
“But I willnae,” Michael spoke up. “Me son is right to be angry. We thought ye were dead, Abigail. We didnae ken what to think. McKenna should pay for what he’s done.”
Freya, who had stood silently with her arms crossed, finally stepped forward.
“I need to speak with Abigail. Alone.” Her voice cut through the air like a blade, even and commanding.
Michael’s eyebrows drew down. “Freya, ye cannae?—”
“I willnae hear another word, Michael,” she snapped, without so much as turning her head. “This is between me and me sister.”
Michael sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine,” he muttered. “Cody, Amara, let’s give them some space.”
He herded the younger couple out of the room, casting one last glance over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.
Abigail turned to her sister, her chest tightening. The warmth of the fire suddenly felt stifling.
She fidgeted as Freya’s eyes narrowed on her, sharp and searching, as if trying to read the truth straight from her soul.
“Well?” she prompted, arching an eyebrow. “Tell me.”
“I ken how it sounds,” Abigail began, trying to keep her voice steady. “But it was never black and white. Kian took me, aye… but he never harmed me. He’s nae the man everyone thinks he is.”
Freya’s brow creased in disbelief. “He abducted ye, Abigail. I dinnae care how gentle he might’ve been after. That’s nae love; that’s madness.”
“I thought the same, at first,” Abigail whispered. “But then I saw the truth of it. The famine, the struggling villages. He did it to protect his people, Freya. And through it all, he was kind to me. He cared.”
Freya stepped closer, holding her sister’s eyes. “And ye care for him?”
Abigail swallowed hard and nodded. “I do. I dinnae ken when it happened, but I do. I care more than I should. And now, he might die.”
A hint of something flickered across Freya’s expression. Understanding, perhaps, or reluctant acceptance.
“Ye’ve changed,” she said, almost to herself. “The sister I kenned would never defend a man who hurt her.”
“He didnae hurt me,” Abigail insisted. “Nae once. He protected me. He even fought against Peyton and the bandits, bleedin’ from a wound she gave him, and still he fought for me.” Her voice cracked as her throat tightened with emotion.
Freya let out a slow breath and turned toward the window. “Ye’ve gone and fallen in love with him?”
It wasn’t a question, but a quiet truth spoken into the air.
Abigail didn’t deny it. “Aye. And it scares me.”
Her sister nodded slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Love often does. But I’ll say this—if he lives, and if he truly meant to do right by ye, then I’ll try to understand. I’ll nae forgive him easily… but I’ll try.”
Tears welled up in Abigail’s eyes, and she stepped forward, clutching Freya’s hand. “Thank ye. That’s all I ask.”
Freya squeezed her hand once, then let go. “But if he breaks yer heart, I’ll set fire to his bloody castle,” she continued, only half-joking. “And ye ken I mean it.”
Abigail laughed through her tears. “I wouldnae expect any less.”
The tension between them finally eased, and for a moment, it felt like they were sisters again, not strangers shaped by distance and hardship.
“And Marissa?” Abigail asked.
“She’s sick with worry. She blames herself for choosing that driver,” Freya answered.
“I must speak with her. I never meant to cause anyone so much worry,” Abigail said.
“It was out of yer hands,” Freya assured her.
A knock sounded at the door, then. A hesitant rap that interrupted the moment.
Abigail wiped at her eyes quickly as Helena stepped inside.
“Forgive me for interruptin’, but… I thought ye might want to come back. His breathing’s steadier now.” She smiled softly despite the weariness on her face.
Abigail didn’t wait—she rushed past them and out into the corridor, her feet light despite the weight in her heart. She had almost lost him. She wouldn’t waste another moment. Not now.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes still dark with worry. “We should go check on Kian,” she whispered.
Freya nodded once and followed her down the corridor. The low hum of conversation guided them back to the healer’s chambers.
Inside, Michael, Cody, and Amara sat around a wooden table, their hands wrapped around warm cups of tea. Helena moved between them, graceful and calm, refilling their cups with gentle care. The tension in the air had eased, but it hadn’t disappeared altogether.
Abigail glanced at the group before gently pulling Freya toward Kian’s bed. She held her sister’s hand as they approached, the softness of her palm comforting in Abigail’s trembling grip.
Kian lay still, wrapped in several blankets, the pallor of his skin slowly beginning to fade.
Freya knelt beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. “He seems to be warming up,” she noted quietly. “Nae so cold.”
Abigail let out a long, shaky sigh, her shoulders sagging with relief.
“Thank God,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair from Kian’s brow.
Freya glanced up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll sit with ye. I’m here for ye.”
Abigail’s heart ached at the words, filled with gratitude and sorrow all at once.
“Thank ye,” she breathed, her voice tight with emotion.
She turned back to the others who lingered in the room.
“Helena,” she said gently, “perhaps we can offer our guests rooms and food?”
“Of course,” Helena replied, setting down the teapot. “I’ll take them now.” She gestured for the others to follow.
Michael, Cody, and Amara stood up, casting one last look at Freya before leaving the room.
As the door clicked shut behind them, silence settled thick between the sisters.
Abigail dropped to her knees beside Freya, overcome by the intimacy of the moment.
Freya turned and opened her arms, and Abigail collapsed into them without hesitation. They held each other tightly, their hearts beating in the rhythm of sisterly love.
“I’m glad ye found someone to care about,” Freya murmured into her hair, her voice rough with emotion. “Ye deserve happiness, lass. More than anyone I ken.”
Abigail let out a strangled cry and clung to her tightly. She didn’t realize how much she had been holding back, but the comfort of a blood relation suddenly opened the floodgates.
“I missed ye so much,” she sobbed. “I was so scared I’d never see ye again.”
“There were nights I thought I’d gone mad with the pain of nae knowin’ if ye were all right.
” Freya stroked her back, slow and soothing.
“We assumed the worst. We sent search parties, prayers, shed tears… Michael blamed himself for lettin’ ye out of his sight.
But now—now ye’re here, and safe, and that’s all that matters. ”
Abigail nodded against her shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric.
Kian stirred faintly in his sleep, a low groan escaping his lips.
Abigail pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “He saved me, Freya. Over and over. Even when he didnae have to.”
Freya’s gaze softened as she looked down at the man on the bed.
“I believe ye,” she said simply. “I can see it in the way ye look at him. And the way he has clearly risked everything to keep ye safe.”
“I cannae lose him now,” Abigail whispered. “Nae after everything we’ve been through.”
Freya leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Then we’ll do everythin’ in our power to see him well again,” she promised.
“I love ye, Freya,” Abigail croaked. “I dinnae say it enough, but I do.”
Freya pulled her close once more, her own tears finally spilling over. “And I love ye, me brave lass,” she replied. “Always.”
The firelight danced over the two women as they sat together in silence, bound by blood, by pain, and by an unbreakable sisterhood.
Kian stirred again, his fingers twitching slightly in Abigail’s hand. She gasped and leaned closer, brushing her lips against his knuckles.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here.”