Chapter Eighteen
Moira watched as a myriad of emotions flickered across Errol’s handsome face as she waited for him to answer her question.
Aye, they had barriers to overcome. But she felt if they talked about them, they could come up with a resolution that would satisfy them both.
Satisfy both of their clans.
Because the other option was them returning to their lives as they were afore, and she wasn’t willing to do that.
She didn’t think it was possible. Not after the time they’d spent together.
Her insides felt hollow at the thought of not spending the rest of her days with Errol.
Family differences be damned. Why couldn’t they show the items they’d found to their families and explain how everything they had kenned had been built upon a lie?
They needed to bring the clan that was at the root of all of this death and fighting to justice.
They should pay for all they’ve done throughout the years.
“The death of Gavin, my brother,” Errol finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as he squeezed his eyes shut.
The breeze picked up and loosened wisps of her hair from her plait, tickling her nose.
She tucked the loose strands behind her ear.
“We have talked about it a little. Tell me about what happened.” He had told her some of the facts surrounding his brother’s death, but not everything.
It was important that she learned of all that happened that fateful day.
Patiently, she waited, understanding that it wasn’t an easy topic for him to speak about.
“As I said previously, he was traveling with a few MacLeod warriors, visiting the kirkyard that we searched for clues. Unlike us, my brother and his men were there to pay respect to those that perished long ago. It was something that we always did when in that area.” He paused, his eyes staring off into the distance, and Moira kenned he was thinking about that day.
“It had to have been an ambush. Men lying in wait kenning they would be passing through. My brother was an excellent tracker. He was younger than I, but he kenned this land well. He had a keen sense of the sounds around him. ’Tis why I think the attackers were already here.
Gavin no doubt would have heard them if they followed them on their journey.
And he wouldnae have let men trail them unchallenged.
As Gavin and his men kneeled in front of the graves of our ancestors, praying for their souls, they were attacked.
Struck down.” He blew out a steadying breath, flattening his palms on his trews.
“When they hadnae returned when they should have, we gave them a bit of time, but soon, we kenned something was amiss. Gavin ne’er missed a return time. I rode out with some of my own warriors and found the slain men.”
Pain pierced Moira’s heart. She couldn’t fathom the pain of such a loss. The abject horror he must have felt at finding his brother in such a way. “I am verra sorry, Errol. I cannae imagine what that must have been like for ye.”
“’Twas the Harts that had done it. They killed the whole party.”
Moira frowned, shaking her head. “That doesnae make any sense. My da would ne’er order such a senseless attack. I would have heard something. No’ only that, it happened on MacLeod lands. Deep into MacLeod lands, no less. We stay off yer lands. ’Tis our way to keep the peace as best we can.”
“No’ that day.”
“Why do ye believe ’twas us?”
“The Hart colors were tucked into my brother’s belt. No one else would do that.”
She chewed on her lip, thinking about what he had just said. “Errol, if we were trying to keep the peace and avoid war, which is what we have been doing for years, why would we do such a thing that would only guarantee a war betwixt us?”
Errol shrugged. “Men do stupid things. With so many years of strife ’tis only natural that war would erupt at some point.”
She nodded. “Aye, I understand that. Howe’er, no war was called from either side.
Doesnae that mean that neither side could prove who was behind the attack.
Surely, yer father would have declared war if he kenned for certs that we were the ones to strike down yer brother.
I dinnae ken him well and havenae spent any surmountable time with him, but he doesnae strike me as the type of man to hold back on such a miscarriage of justice if he could prove it. Especially since it was his son.”
Tilting his head to the side, Errol squinted his eyes as he stared into the trees.
Moira kenned he wasn’t seeing the trees. Instead, he was picturing the scene from that day. Re-enacting what he believed to have happened.
“What if someone was trying to frame us for the attack, hoping that ’twould cause yer clan to retaliate? In doing so, a clan war would ensue. Who would benefit from that?”
“I dinnae believe that is a scenario we had thought about. With the Hart colors left behind, we believed it was a message to show what ye were capable of.”
“We wouldnae do that.” She sat straighter, pushing him on her earlier thought.
“Why then, also, didnae yer father attack? If he truly thought ’twas us, and he had our colors left on yer brother’s body, why wouldnae he have declared war on us and attacked?
Does yer father believe something else had happened? ”
Errol looked as if he were thinking about what she had suggested. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Ye are right. It doesnae make sense. But why, then would my father still insist we remain enemies?”
“I do no’ ken. Did he have aught to gain by doing so?
” She hated to ask the question. It seemed like she was placing blame on his father, but that wasn’t what she was trying to do at all.
She only wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Gavin’s death because it seemed like the biggest obstacle they needed to overcome.
If it was proven that her clan had killed Gavin and his men, then she and Errol didn’t have a chance at a future together, no matter how strong their feelings.
“It may be a discussion I need to have with my da when I return home.” He nudged her shoulder. “After we finish this quest. Forgive me?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she contemplated whether or not she should. “Ye really hurt me.” It pained her to admit it, but if she was going to forgive him then he needed to ken the consequences his actions had. “I dinnae e’er want to feel that way again.”
He nodded, sucking his top lip between his teeth. “I understand and I am verra sorry. If it helps, I hated pushing ye away when all I wanted to do was wrap ye in my arms.”
Moira met his gaze, searching for Errol’s eyes for any sort of deception, but she found none. “Do ye still?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited anxiously for his answer.
“I do. Verra much.”
Smiling, she couldn’t stop the elation she felt at his confession.
“Then I suggest we carry on so we can find this supposed treasure and start healing the rift betwixt our families.”
“But first,” Errol said afore drawing her into his strong arms and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss that had her toes curling and left her wanting more.
He fists clutched as his tunic and she pulled him closer.
She didn’t want any space betwixt them. The fire he stoked within her building and building.
This man held her heart in his hands. She loved him.
That was the all-consuming feeling she felt whenever she thought about him.
But she kept those three little words that held such big meaning to herself.
She wasn’t sure if Errol was ready to hear them and the last thing she wanted to do was scare him away when he was just finally starting to admit to himself that they could have a future together—if they could solve the mysteries they’d uncovered.
*
They rode on, side by side, stealing glances at each other, smiling shyly when their eyes met.
When they arrived at the coast, Moira paused and took in the beautiful sight.
The deep blue water looked crisp and cool, the waves lapping gently against the shore.
A pebbly beach beckoned her to strip off her boots and stick her toes in the earth.
She was tempted to do just that as she dismounted and walked to the water. Errol came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he nuzzled her neck. She leaned her head to the side to give him better access as she brought her arm up to caress the back of his neck.
Heaven. That’s where they were. Out here, with no one else around, it was as if all was perfect in the world.
Errol placed a soft kiss on her neck, and she shivered on a sigh. She really wanted more as that heat in her belly grew into an aching she didn’t quite understand.
Turning in his arms, she tipped her head up to his. His chin was scruffy with beard-growth, and she ran her fingers along the stubble, feeling the roughness under her fingertips.
Soft brown eyes, crinkling at the corners, met hers. “I want to kiss ye, Moira Hart.”
“Well, then, what are ye waiting for Errol MacLeod?”
The searing kiss that followed left Moira weak in the knees. She was thankful for the strong arms Errol wrapped around her. They kept her balanced and standing when all she wanted to do was swoon and drop into a puddle as his tongue delved into her mouth, finding hers and sliding along it.
Sigh.
This man would be the death of her.
Breaking the kiss, Errol leaned his forehead upon hers. “Lass, the things ye make me want to do to ye,” he confessed.
She looked at him expectantly, without any idea of what he spoke of. When he didn’t say aught further, she asked, “What things?”
He chuckled. “Things I cannae say aloud else ye think I’m a heathen.”
His statement only confused her more. “I dinnae believe that. I couldna. E’er.”
“That is a discussion for another time.” He clasped her hand in his. “Come, let us go to the hollow.”