Page 42
For a while, they didn’t talk, the only sound the clip-clop of hooves against stone. The castle was slowly swallowed by the scenery, and just like that, it felt as if they were alone.
They rounded a stand of bushes, and he heard Isla gasp behind him. He knew exactly why. Before them, the Highlands opened up in all their splendor, hills rolling on and on, covered in heather and grass.
“Ye like it?” Alisdair asked.
He felt the overwhelming need for her to like his land. Love it even. She had called it home. Was it true? Did she feel at home here?
“It is bonnie.” She pulled up next to him.
His eyes drifted to her as she took in the land, lips parted, blue eyes wide and shining, the light breeze ruffling her hair.
“Aye,” he said softly. “It is bonnie.”
Perhaps sensing his softer tone, she turned to look at him. Alisdair looked ahead as if caught red-handed.
“I will show ye me favorite place.” He moved ahead. “Keep up, wife.”
“Is that a challenge, husband?” she called.
He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked, before spurring his horse to go faster. He felt alive.
They crested a hill that overlooked a handful of cottages, their chimneys letting thin trails of smoke rise into the air. Sheep dotted the hillside, the cattle grazing next to them.
They rode on, him taking the harder road to challenge her and her keeping up, close on his heels. They teased each other and laughed as they climbed higher. The grass was shorter here, the ground rougher. The hills were covered in purple and russet around dark rocks.
Then the ground rose sharply to a flat edge, and Alisdair reined in his horse.
Isla came to a stop beside him. “Oh…”
Alisdair smiled, seeing her fascination. A cluster of dark rocks felt like a medieval fortress built by giants, and behind it, a thin spire of rock like a finger pointing at the sky. Peering through the fallen rocks, the land dropped into the deep blue sea.
“I come here when everything gets too loud,” he admitted.
“I see.” Her eyes never left the view. “To remind yerself that problems are insignificant before the endless world.”
“And to remind meself that no matter how hard it is, there is still beauty.”
Alisdair dismounted and tethered his horse to the nearest tree, then offered a hand to help her down. With a smirk, she dismounted on her own and secured her mare.
“Come,” he said. “Are ye up for a little hike?”
“Where are we going?” She squinted at him.
“Daenae worry, wife. There are plenty of cliffs to throw ye off of, but nae today.”
Isla scoffed and hiked up her skirts so she could navigate the treacherous terrain more easily. Alisdair coughed at the sight of the exposed skin, before looking away. He turned and started down the worn path through the grass.
“Ye come here a lot?”
“Ever since I was a lad.”
He rounded a bend and stopped, hearing her footsteps hurry to catch up. She came to a stop beside him and gasped.
“Ye are doing this on purpose,” she accused playfully. “One breathtaking spot after the other.”
“I promise ye,” he laughed, “this is the last one.”
Hidden there was a small hollow with water running down the stones in the back. The great hills rose around them on three sides, the fourth one open to the sea.
