“What scar?”
He chuckled. “You’re being kind. You know. This one.”
Her fingers reached up to his cheek and touched the scar he’d carried for so long, the one that caused some lasses to look the other way.
“That’s not much of a scar. Besides, I thought warriors consider scars a testament to their skill in battle.”
“Some do, but this was not gained in battle. A boar got me. My horse threw me into the path of three wild boars. I was gored. Nearly killed me. Not a fond memory. In fact, I still have nightmares. And Logan? Aye, I’m glad he’s still with us, but seeing that woman strike Logan down? I’ll never get past that. I had this ridiculous hesitation because she was a female. I was raised never to strike a woman, so I hesitated. If I hadn’t, could I have prevented his wound? Questions, so many doubts.”
Merryn moved to his other side, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his wound. “Any lass who sees that wee thing as detracting from you doesn’t know what is most important in a relationship.”
“And what do you see as most important?”
“Honor. Loyalty. Compassion. A warm heart. All things you have.” Her eyes misted, and he wished to explore that but decided she would tell him if she wished to. “Those are the important things. My sister …” She stopped, tearing up, and he squeezed her hand.
“Take your time.”
“My sister thought Kelvan was the most handsome man she’d ever met. He was loud-mouthed but sweet-talking. The kind of talk that I didn’t trust, but she believed all those things he said. I knew better. Mama knew better and tried to warn her away from Kelvan, but she wouldn’t be persuaded to give up on him.” She stared at the ground. “Mama was right. The evil man stuck a blade in her back. Her back!”
“We’ll get Shealee. And the others.”
“I fear I’ll fail Shealee. Do you feel the same about your mother?”
He nearly shed a few tears of his own thinking on her question. “Aye. I fear it so much. Da wished to come, but Uncle Connor refused. Said he was too emotional, that his emotions got in the way with Glenn, and they might do the same with Glenna.”
“Truly? I’d love to hear all about it sometime.”
“It’s a long story, but Da agreed. Then he came over and put his hands on my shoulders and told Uncle Connor that he trusted me to save Mama. That made me even more worried. So much on my aptitude. My sword skills, ability to fight, to sense out danger. Do I have enough?”
“It’s much to put on your shoulders. But I think you are strong enough to handle it, Broc. You are a fierce swordsman. I am honored to have you near, even if for a short time.”
He leaned down, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “I don’t think it will be for a short time, lass. I’m growing quite fond of you.”
She blushed as Uncle Connor and Thane joined them. Thane pointed into the water. “It is Artan and Simone. I’ve seen that look on her face before.”
Broc asked, “What look? What does it mean?”
“It means you better be able to run fast. She’s quite an archer. I’ve witnessed her hitting targets that I couldn’t even see. She was trained by Gwyneth, Molly, and Maggie.”
The ship arrived and Broc met them, helping to pull the vessel onshore. Simone was tall, willowy, and beautiful. She wore her dark hair much like her mother and Sela, tied back at the crown, the length swinging behind her head and out of her face.
Her eyes fell on Broc, and she clasped his shoulder, “Well, you surely are a Grant, and one of Kyla’s, if I were to guess.”
“Broc MacNicol. You know the others, aye?”
“Connor, it’s so nice to see you again, though I’m sorry to hear of the circumstances. Know that I’m here to help. Merryn,” she said as she took the younger woman’s hands in hers. “We will get Shealee away from that bastard. I won’t stop until she’s back in your arms where she belongs. Thane, do you have plans yet?”
“Nay, come inside for a brief repast, Simmy. I would suggest waiting about two more hours before we head in that direction.”
“Have you any more archers? Any of Mama’s granddaughters here?”
“Nay. Eli is here, and she’s one of the finest, but she’s expecting, and Gwyneth would have none of her coming along.”
“And how is my sire?”
“He’s better.” They moved inside and the group settled in the hall, Thane stepping out to speak with his cook.
Uncle Connor said, “I wish you had been there to see Aunt Brenna call your father out, Simone. Micheil loves to retell the story. Apparently, he was pretending a bit. She played thehealer, then she made a move that made him bolt right out of bed, cursing at her. But then he fell back asleep until she accused him of stealing her mother’s dear journal again.”
