Page 5 of His Secret Highland Bride

It had been a long day of travel, yet he didn’t rest well. Perhaps it was because the floor was harder than the earth he’d made his bed upon all these years. Or maybe his mind was busy with thoughts of all the things he needed to do and the one thing he wanted to do: see a certain black-haired lass again.

“I’m sorry, Maria,” he said into the darkness as he closed his eyes against the visions of Lindsay.

…

He must’ve managed some sleep, since he woke with soft morning light and the sound of whispers coming through the open windows.

“I’m tellin’ ye, no one lives here. We can take it.”

“If no one lives here, who set the snare in the first place?” another lad responded, this one with the squeaking voice of a boy changing over into a man.

Moving quietly to the door, Shane opened it and stepped out on the small porch. “Bad things come to those who steal a man’s spoils,” he said when he could see the boys clear enough.

They screamed and looked at him with wide eyes before dropping the rabbit and running off.

“I might have shared it with ye, if you weren’t yellow-livered,” he called after them.

Shaking his head, he picked up the discarded rabbit and readied it for his morning meal. It would be a busy day, getting this place set up to be a home. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay here. Frowning, he corrected his thought. He wasn’t sure how long he planned to hide here, for he was hiding. From his future, from his past.

He got to work on cleaning out the cabin after breaking his fast. He enjoyed the work. At the sound of a stick cracking somewhere over his shoulder, he spun around prepared to face a French soldier, but it was Lindsay Cameron who stepped out of the woods with a smile on her face. He forced his breathing to slow as an easy grin pulled up his lips at her presence.

Damn his reaction. He had been a faithful husband, an in the year since Maria’s death, he’d not wanted to be with a woman. But this woman…she tempted him. He had not been a green lad with women when he’d went off to Spain. The women that lived on the edges of the battlefields did not appeal. It was a hard life, one often ended by nasty diseases.

But then he’d met Maria. They hadn’t spoken the same language, but they’d communicated all the same. A smile, the tilt of her head. Their love was a blazing passion. They loved hard and often fought harder. Or rather Maria did. She had a hot temper that amused him. He loved riling her up only to make up in a fiery lust. They rarely had need for words when a look or a touch told the other what they needed.

Lindsay didn’t singe him with desire. Instead, he’d felt calm, at peace when he’d been near her. She seemed full of life and happiness despite the conditions she lived in. And he felt excitement rush through him when he saw her, even after he’d given up all hope of ever feeling that again.

“Good morning to ye.”

“It is just past noon,” she corrected.

“Is it? I’ve missed the noon meal. Have you eaten?”

“Yes.” She pressed her lips together.

He hadn’t known her long, yet her expressive face told him what she was thinking without hearing her words. And at the moment, he thought she regretted telling him she’d already eaten because her meal hadn’t been enough.

He frowned, not liking that he could read this woman so well after such a short time. But he couldn’t help his desire to provide. “I made rabbit stew. I’m used to cooking for two and have made too much. Would you have some?”

She nodded and followed him inside. He still had the doors propped open to let out the stale air. He’d dusted, or rather spread the dust about the room. But the small table and chairs were clean.

He took the chipped bowls down from the shelf and filled one for her first. She waited for him to sit before she dug in.

“Oh,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. “It’s good.”

He laughed at her surprise. “Ye thought I couldn’t cook something decent?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you, but, no, I didn’t expect it to be full of flavor. I guess I assumed a soldier ate for the sake of strength and nothing more.”

“You have the right of it, but I learned to use many spices from Spain.” The smile on his lips faded at the memory of who had taught him. “And I’m not a soldier any longer.”

“What will you do now?” she asked before taking another bite.

He tilted his head to the side and thought about what he would have wanted to do if he’d had the option. If he had been born with the ability to choose, he might have been a vicar, though he cursed too much. He might have owned a tavern, but nay, he wouldn’t have had the patience for drunkards. Mayhap he’d been a crofter or a smithy. It didn’t matter, since his future was already told.

He would be the laird of the MacPhersons, and a husband.

“I’m not sure,” he said instead. “I have enough coin for now to set up this house and stay a bit until I decide.” Whatever fate lurked at the castle, it could wait until he was ready.