Page 60 of The Chief's Wild Promise
To his surprise, an impish half-smile tugged at her lips. “Ye wish for me to give ye some pointers, do ye?”
He huffed. “Aye, well … ye might as well teach me some of those ‘dirty tricks’ of yers.”
At dusk, deep inside MacGregor lands once more, the party halted for the day and made camp. And as the last of the daylight faded from the sky, they sat companionably around a crackling fire while the carcasses of two hares spit-roasted over embers.
The aroma made Makenna’s belly growl, for she’d lasted the day on nothing more than a few mouthfuls of bread and cheese. The day had been a fine one, with warm sun on their backs. They’d made camp in the heart of a pinewood, and the evening air was soft and fragrant with the scent of woodsmoke and resin.
Seated cross-legged before the fire, it was hard not to let her shoulders slump. Finally, they’d reached safety. Exhaustion dragged down at her, turning her eyelids heavy.
Holding up the skin of ale that Blair had just passed him, her father surveyed the faces of those seated around the fire. “At a time like this, I truly count my blessings,” he said, his voice unusually solemn. “I have lost good men in the past days, and my heart is heavy … but when I look around this hearth, I see friends.”
Makenna’s throat constricted at this, her vision blurring.Lloyd should be here with us.
Sorrow twisted like a blade inside her chest then. Fighting to keep her composure, she looked over at Bran, and then her attention slid to Rae and Alec. Their gazes all gleamed. Meanwhile, Connor and Rory observed their father-by-marriage with a blend of wariness and surprise.
“Back in Meggernie, I had ye all drink from my quaich … I spoke of a ‘friendship’ between former enemies … but let’s face it … we all know I was forcing things.” He coughed then, a rare look of embarrassment stealing across his face. “I thought that if we gathered together under my roof, I’d win yer loyalty … yet it can’t be bought, demanded, or stolen.” He raised his fist to his heart then and thumped it hard. “I swear to ye now that the Macleans of Moy and Dounarwyse … and the Mackinnons of Dùn Araallhave my allegiance. I need not sign my name on any contract, for it is carved upon my heart.”
Swallowing, Makenna tried to ignore the ache that suddenly rose under her breastbone. Her father was a man who felt all emotions keenly, and his green eyes now shone.
“And ye have my allegiance, Bruce,” Rae replied, mirroring the MacGregor clan-chief’s gesture.
“And mine,” Alec added. His mouth then quirked. “I’m speaking on behalf of my wife, of course … but I’m sure the laird of Moy would agree.”
A pause followed, and all gazes swiveled Bran’s way.
Staring back at Makenna’s father, her husband raised his hand, curled it into a fist, and slammed it against his ribs, to the left of his breastbone. “Ye have my loyalty as well,” he answered. “Carved upon my heart.”
Bran slept like a dead man, not stirring from the position he’d lain down in. Nonetheless, he awoke to find the sky still dark and the fire pit smoking. It was early. His companions, wrapped up in their cloaks, slumbered, their snores rumbling through the trees.
Rolling over, he tried to go back to sleep yet found he couldn’t. Eventually, giving up, he rose to his feet and stepped over Makenna. She slept curled up like a kitten.
Something tightened deep in his chest as his gaze lingered upon her face. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe the woman was so fierce, but he’d seen just how brave she was.
Carefully, he picked his way through the sleeping figures and moved to the edge of the trees. He then approached where Blair kept watch.
“Ye’re up before the lark this morning,” the new Captain of the Meggernie Guard greeted him.
Bran pulled a face. “I always am … go on … get some rest before dawn breaks.”
“Are ye sure?”
“Aye … I’ve rested enough.”
Blair gave a jaw-cracking yawn and nodded. He then clapped Bran on the shoulder before he returned to the camp, leaving him alone amongst the dark pines.
Massaging a stiff muscle in his shoulder, Bran surveyed his surroundings. They were far from Campbell lands now, although it would be foolish to let their guard down. Black Duncan wasn’t the sort to give up easily. It was just as well the bastard was badly injured, for he’d have other things to worry about right now.
Nonetheless, relief unknotted the last of the tension in Bran’s chest.Thank Christ that’s over.He didn’t like to think about how close he’d come to having his head struck from his neck.
Lloyd Walker hadn’t been so lucky.
The woods were quiet, for it was still too early for the first birds to begin their morning song, and as he stood there letting the last vestiges of sleep drift away, a calmness settled upon him.
Peace.
He’d rarely felt it.There was something else too, for this morning, he sensed his own worth—deep down to the marrow of his bones. No one could dispute that his quick thinking had saved them all at Finlarig. Ever since taking his father’s place, he’d chased true confidence, but it had eluded him. Until now.
“Ye aren’t one to lie abed either, I see.” Makenna’s soft voice roused him from his thoughts, and he turned to see his wife approaching. She had slung her woolen cloak around her shoulders, and her hair was mussed from sleeping.