Page 14 of Trapped by the Wicked Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

" Y e goin' to check on the little lass?" Daniel asked Hunter as he stepped into the healing hall.

"Aye," Hunter replied. "I daenae want to disturb her rest, just a wee peek."

"I pray for her healin' every night. I'll be at the trainin’ grounds should ye need me," Daniel patted him on the back and left.

Hunter stepped down the rows of beds and cots in healing hall, his sharp gaze sweeping over the rows of resting patients. The scent of herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of sickness that still clung to the room.

Yet, there was a change—one he could not deny. Men and women who had once been too weak to lift their heads were now sitting up, eating, and even speaking in hushed voices.

His steps slowed as he approached the cot where his daughter, Elena, lay nestled beneath thick wool blankets. Her color had returned, no longer the pale, ghostly shade that had plagued her for weeks. Relief settled in his chest as she turned to him, bright-eyed and alert. He had spent too many nights fearing he would lose her, but now, thanks to Cassandra, she was stronger.

“Da,” Elena said softly, her small fingers curling around the edge of her blanket. “I feel better.”

Hunter lowered himself to sit beside her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Aye, lass, ye do look better,” he murmured. “That pleases me more than ye ken.”

She smiled sleepily but then tilted her head, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “Da… the healer, what is her name?”

Hunter exhaled, leaning back slightly. He knew this question would come sooner or later. “Her name is Cassandra. She’s from McAllister castle. Laird McAllister allowed me to bring her here to us when the sickness spread.”

Elena’s brows furrowed. “So, she doesnae belong here?”

Hunter hesitated. The word belong caught him off guard, striking a chord deep within him. “Nay, lass. She came to help, but her home is elsewhere.”

Elena frowned, her small fingers twisting in the blanket. “Will she leave when everyone is well again?”

Something tightened in Hunter’s chest, an ache he did not expect. He had been so focused on the present, on making sure his people recovered, that he had not truly considered what came after.

Cassandra would leave eventually—back to McAllister, back to the life she had before steppin’ into his.

“Da?” Elena’s voice was quieter now, as if she could sense the change in his mood.

He cleared his throat, shaking off the strange weight pressing down on him. “Daenae think on that now, little one,” he said firmly. “Ye just focus on getting’ stronger.”

Elena still looked troubled, but she nodded slowly. “She’s kind,” she whispered. “She always talks to me when she checks me fever. And she tells me stories.”

Hunter wasn’t surprised. Cassandra had a way of making people feel safe, even when she tried to keep herself at a distance. He had seen it in the way the other patients looked at her, in the quiet respect she commanded without ever demanding it.

“She’s a good woman,” Hunter admitted, his voice low.

Elena yawned, her eyes growing heavy. “I hope she stays,” she murmured sleepily.

Hunter watched as she drifted off, her small hand resting on top of his. He stayed beside her, unmoving, listening to the steady sound of her breathing. His daughter’s words echoed in his mind, stirring something unsteady inside him.

Did he want Cassandra to stay?

The thought unsettled him. He had spent years keeping his heart guarded, unwilling to let another woman hold any power over him. And yet, Cassandra was already burrowing into his thoughts, into his life, without even trying.

Hunter exhaled slowly, brushing his fingers lightly over Elena’s hand before standing. He needed to clear his head, to focus on what mattered. Cassandra was here to heal, nothing more.

And yet, as he turned to leave the hall, he found himself wondering what it would take to make her stay.

Hunter left the healing hall, the weight of Cassandra’s inevitable departure pressing heavily on his mind.

As he stepped into the corridor, his sharp gaze landed on a familiar figure at a distance. Cassandra. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before she turned abruptly, her skirts swishing as she hurried down the hall.

Without thinking, he followed, his long strides closing the distance quickly. But as he rounded the corner, she was gone. The corridor was empty, silent except for the faint crackling of a torch on the wall. His jaw tightened as he called out, “Cassandra.”

There was no answer. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as a memory from the night before crept into his mind. He had seen her then, too, lingering in the corridor before slipping away the moment she noticed him. At first, he thought it was coincidence, but now the truth was clear—she was avoiding him.

Hunter's boots thudded heavily against the dirt as he walked toward the training grounds. His mood was dark. His mind churned with the thoughts he couldn’t shake, and he felt the weight of his anger pressing down on him.

As he reached the training grounds, his eyes locked onto his cousin, Daniel, who was practicing his sword work in the middle of the field. Without a word, Hunter grabbed a nearby sword, the metal feeling cold against his palm.

He strode toward Daniel with grim determination, his mind still tangled with frustration. The clang of steel rang out as their swords met, the force of the strike sharp and clear in the quiet of the evening. Daniel grunted under the impact but immediately blocked the next swing, raising an eyebrow as he met his cousin's furious gaze.

“Och, take it easy, cousin,” Daniel said. He parried another blow before stepping back, his brow furrowing in concern. “What ails ye, Hunter? Ye fight like a man possessed.”

Hunter’s breath came in ragged gasps as his grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, but his gaze never left Daniel.

“I’m in frustrations,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, “because Cassandra’s avoidin’ me, and I cannae stand it.” He swung his sword again, pushing his cousin back with the force of his strike. “She’s been distant, and I’m nae sure why.”

“Well, if ye’re so worried, just go to her,” Daniel suggested, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. “Tell her what ye feel, man, and stop beatin’ the life out of me with that sword.”

Hunter's grip loosened for a moment, but his scowl deepened as the doubt gnawed at him, and he took a slow step back, gathering his thoughts.

“I shouldnae get closer to her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Daniel. “She’ll be leavin’, and I cannae bear the thought of gettin’ tangled up in somethin’ that’s doomed.”

“Ach, that’s nae set in stone, ye ken,” Daniel countered, shaking his head as he adjusted his stance. “She might nae be leavin’ after all.”

Hunter grunted, unwilling to admit that Daniel might be right, and he exhaled sharply, the tension in his chest only deepening. Daniel’s voice softened, but there was a firmness in his words, as if trying to push through Hunter’s stubbornness.

Hunter closed his eyes for a moment, a deep breath filling his lungs before he lowered his sword entirely. He straightened, meeting his cousin's gaze with a rawness he hadn’t intended to show.

“I daenae want to get close to her, Daniel,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I care for the lass, and I cannae watch her die, like everyone else I’ve cared for.”

Daniel’s expression hardened, and he took a step toward Hunter, his tone becoming more serious. “Ye’re actin' like a fool, Hunter,” he said, voice laced with a protective edge. “Ye cannae live in fear, aye? Jessica and I—” He broke off, locking eyes with Hunter, his meaning clear. “We’re close to ye, and we’re still alive. What happened in the past doesnae mean ye’ll lose Cassandra if ye let yer heart guide ye.”

Hunter stood still for a long moment, the weight of his cousin’s words sinking in. His mind raced as he processed Daniel’s challenge, and he felt an ache deep in his chest.

It was true—he had lost so many people he had loved, yet the idea of shutting himself off from Cassandra, of pushing her away, felt like an unbearable cost. He slowly raised his sword again, but this time, it felt heavier, as if the burden of his fears was now tied to every movement he made.

They resumed their practice, the clang of metal ringing out as Hunter and Daniel continued to spar. Hunter's strikes were slower now, his mind wrestling with Daniel’s words, but the frustration still simmered beneath his skin.

"Focus on yer skills," Daniel pressed him harder, urging him to think less of his fears and more of the moment, but Hunter’s mind was elsewhere, tangled with thoughts of Cassandra.

Every swing of his sword seemed to echo with her absence, her distance, and the ache that only seemed to grow the longer she avoided him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they both stopped, the swords falling to the dirt as their heavy breaths filled the silence. Daniel wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed Hunter a sideways glance.

“Ye’re wearin’ yerself down,” he said, though there was no mocking tone in his voice, just a quiet observation. “Perhaps it’s time ye took a break, Hunter?”

Hunter nodded, though his mind was still racing. “Aye, perhaps it is,” he muttered, stepping away from the field. The cool evening air did little to calm the fire in his chest as he walked back toward the castle, the weight of his thoughts bearing down on him.

When they reached the supper hall, the long wooden table was already filled with the clan members, the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread thick in the air. Hunter’s stomach growled, but it was the lack of someone's presence that caught his attention.

His eyes flicked over the room, searching, but Cassandra was nowhere to be seen. His frustration surged once again, his brow furrowing deeply.

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself, his hands clenching into fists. He felt his jaw tighten as the thought that she might be avoiding him entirely took root, the fear growing like a dark shadow in his chest. He turned to Daniel, his eyes sharp. “She’s nae here. She’s still avoidin’ me.”

Daniel, who had taken a seat and was now stuffing his face with bread, glanced up at Hunter with a raised brow. “Och, ye sound like a man ready to throw his sword at the sky,” he remarked, though his tone held a note of amusement. “Maybe she’s takin’ time for herself. As the healer she works hard.”

Hunter felt his frustration boil over, and he clenched his fists tighter. “It’s nae that simple. She’s been distant, and I cannae stand it,” he growled. “She doesnae even want to eat with me, the Laird that has her here.” His voice lowered, heavy with the frustration he couldn’t hold back.

Daniel sighed and looked at him, his expression softening. “Maybe ye shouldnae be so quick to assume the worst, aye? Ye’re both headstrong, and ye daenae communicate like ye should.” He paused for a moment, then added with a hint of teasing, “She’s nae gone yet, Hunter, and she might be thinkin’ the same things ye are. Ye cannae live in silence forever.”

Hunter shook his head, his chest tight with the weight of his thoughts. He turned away from Daniel and walked to the side of the hall, seeking a moment of solitude. It wasn’t long before his cousin, Jessica, caught sight of him standing apart from the group, looking more disheartened than he cared to admit. She walked over to him, her face soft with concern.

“Ye’ve been quieter than usual, Hunter,” she said gently, her voice filled with a warm Scottish lilt. “What’s eatin’ at ye?”

Hunter met her gaze, and for a moment, he hesitated. He didn’t want to burden her with his thoughts, but the frustration had built too much. “It’s Cassandra,” he said, his voice strained. “She’s avoidin’ me. I daenae ken what I’ve done wrong.”

Jessica’s brow furrowed, and she looked around the hall, her eyes scanning the faces of those gathered. “Ach, maybe ye’re readin’ too much into it. Cassandra’s been through a lot, and ye ken that. She may need time to think, or maybe she’s worried about the same things ye are.” Her voice softened. “Ye cannae expect her to work to the bone and be available.”

Hunter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced around the room.

Jessica took a deep breath and placed a hand on his arm, her touch firm but comforting. “Ye’re a stubborn fool if ye let her slip away without tryin’.”

Hunter’s heart tightened as her words sank in. Jessica was right, of course. He had always been too proud, too afraid, but his heart wouldn’t let him stay silent forever.