Page 66 of The Chief's Wild Promise
She straightened up then, casting a glance over her right shoulder at where her parents stood, arms around each other, watching the boat travel downstream. Grief etched both of their faces, making them suddenly look much older. Ever since his return to Meggernie, her father’s face had been uncharacteristically severe. Black Duncan’s treachery would never be forgotten.
Makenna couldn’t let it go either. Whenever she thought about the Campbells, her gut clenched.
Meanwhile, her sisters and their husbands and bairns stood a few feet farther back, looking silently on. Everyone gazed upon the little reed boat.
After a few moments, Makenna shifted her attention left, to where her husband stood. But Bran wasn’t watching the river. Instead, his gaze was wholly upon her, and the softness, the understanding, in his eyes made her long to step into him, to let him enfold her in his embrace.
She didn’t though. Aye, after the night before, things were good between them. Nonetheless, she still wasn’t comfortable enough to let the last of her shields down—especially with everyone watching them.
27: VENGEANCE IS OURS
THE TIME CAME to bid her sisters farewell.
Sonia and Alma, their husbands, and brood of bairns departed a couple of days after the burials, although the Macleans of Dounarwyse and Moy had waited until a fortnight passed.
Of course, there were tears when Makenna saw Kylie and Liza off—although she promised them that she would make regular visits. She wasn’t sure how Bran would react to her traveling into Maclean country, but she wouldn’t be kept from her sisters. She hoped he’d understand.
Standing on the wall, watching Kylie and Liza depart alongside their husbands and bairns, she rubbed at her aching breastbone.
“Ye shall miss them greatly,” Bran observed as he stood by her side.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I already feel as if my heart has been ripped out.”
He didn’t reply to that, and when she glanced his way, she saw his gaze was shadowed. He now watched the Macleans—a party of around fifty—as they traveled across the meadows and disappeared into the woodlands beyond.
She wondered then if he was thinking about his own sister.
After their argument about her on the day of the attack, she’d avoided bringing Tara up again. She still believed he should mend things with her, but knew the subject was a raw one for him. She wasn’t afraid of rousing his husband’s anger—rather, she didn’t want to hurt him.
“I would like to visit my sisters … at least once a year … if that’s possible,” she said after a lengthy pause.
Bran cut her a veiled look. “Aye?”
Makenna lifted her chin. “Aye.”
His mouth tugged into a wry smile. “As if I’d ever be fool enough to stop ye.”
“Does that mean ye shall accompany me?”
He pulled a face. “When ye go to Moy, I might be persuaded.”
“And Dounarwyse?” She couldn’t help it. Just a little push.
Bran looked away, his mouth pursing.
Swallowing a sigh, Makenna let the matter drop. Instead, she moved closer to him, linking her arm with his. “Can we stay on in Meggernie a little longer?”
He turned his attention to her once more. “Aye … although the longer ye leave it, the harder it’ll be. Ye know that, don’t ye?”
Makenna swallowed to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. “Aye,” she murmured. “But I just want to ensure Da is well … he’s not been himself since we returned from Finlarig.”
Bran nodded. “He’s quieter than he was, aye … but he’ll rally. Yer father is tough as weathered oak.”
She snorted. “All the same, I worry.”
His eyes softened, in that way of his that made her melt. He then raised his hand, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. “As ye wish, Makenna. Dùn Ara can wait.”
“Isn’t the pie to yer liking, mo chridhe?” Carmen’s worried voice made Makenna glance her mother’s way.