Chapter Fourteen
“Thank you, Maegan, but don’t look so alarmed!” Iain chided, his laughter filling the great hall.
Maegan was shocked that he, Laurel, and Conor did not move. All three just remained sitting by the hearth, prepared to continue talking and smiling without any concerns.
“My daughter knows how to stay warm and dry in an ice storm. We’ve lived through many. She knows what to do.”
Maegan stared at him incredulously. “You knew?” she asked. “You knew Mhàiri has been living out there on her own for days?”
“Well, how else is she supposed to know if she is going to like it? And after the past few hellacious days, I suppose she does, otherwise she would have been back by now.”
Laurel grinned. “I think we will be preparing for a wedding when those two return.”
“You better hope so,” Conor snorted. “After listening to you two applaud your devious ways, I would not let you forget it if you are wrong.”
Laurel patted his hand. “Oh, we’re right. You know it, too.”
Conor looked at Maegan. “You would have thought they had known each other for months, planning this whole thing between Conan and Mhàiri.” He pointed at Iain. “You need to go, my friend. You and my wife enjoy each other’s company too much. It’s dangerous. Better run, Maegan, while you can.”
* * *
Conan had been out for a few hours, searching each of the places they had been to during their outings, when he realized where Mhàiri had gone.
The day Bonny had told him she wanted to learn about maps, but he had taught Mhàiri instead, she had identified a half dozen spots she thought would be ideal places to draw in detail, for they included all aspects of this area of Scotland.
When she was not at the fourth area, he began to get worried.
The final two were the farthest from McTiernay Castle, and if she were not at either of those, he would have to stop and find shelter.
He had come prepared to deal with the brutal cold and ice, but based on what Bonny had said, Mhàiri had very little and nothing to keep her safe and protected.
He hoped his brother had waited to send out a search party.
It was almost impossible to see, and if he had not known every knot and hole in these parts, he would have injured himself or his horse as soon as he had left the main path.
As it was, the fifth place was set atop a rocky cliff that would have been the coldest and least protected from the wind and the elements.
Conan feared he might lame his horse and slid off the saddle to guide the animal along the rocky path to a small canyon-like stretch.
There were no caves in the area, but at least the rock wall would shield his horse from the worst of the storm.
He rounded one massive boulder that had at one time jutted out from the cliff above. Without warning, a knife flew by his face and clinked on the rock face behind him. He jumped back out of sight.
“Know that I missed on purpose and have more knives, two of which are in my hands. So speak your name, stranger, and pray I recognize it.”
Conan could hear the stark alarm in Mhàiri’s voice. She was scared. Genuinely, thoroughly, deep-down scared. “Then your aim better be damn good,” he said, stepping back into view once more. “Mhàiri, I’ve come to—”
Before he could finish his sentence and say that he was there to rescue her, Mhàiri had launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Conan! What are you doing out here! You have to be freezing!”
“I was looking for you. I didn’t know—not until tonight—that you were out here all alone. God, if anything had happened to you,” he mumbled into her hair, squeezing her close. “Why did you go? Why did you not return when the weather got bad? Why did you leave me?”
Mhàiri pulled back to answer, but before she could say a word, his mouth crushed hers with animal-like fury. His tongue thrust into her mouth, then withdrew, then thrust again, engulfing her with unleashed need, fear, and lust.
Mhàiri clung to him in confusion and desire. Conan held her close and showered her face with hungry kisses, groaning with intense yearning as he frantically sought out new places for his lips.
For hours, he had told himself that he would find her.
And when he did, he would scold her for hours on the dangers of adventuring out alone without anyone knowing where she was.
Then he would make love to her until she was limp followed by another lecture on the dangers of scaring him to death.
But with his lips upon hers, all he could think was that she was safe.
She was alive and he never wanted to let her go.
Slowly, he released her. He cupped her face and asked again, “Why, Mhàiri? Why?”
She put her warm hand around his freezing one and said, “Come. Come back where it’s warm and dry, and then you can tell me why you are here.”
Conan followed. Just past the fallen boulder, she had made a makeshift camp.
She had leaned the cart over on its side, and between the cliff wall, the boulder, and the cart, she was completely protected from the wind.
She must have known the weather had been turning foul, for she had collected branches and stacked them to make a thick, temporary roof.
A fire crackled next to blankets that were laid out.
A large stack of sticks, which included some sizeable logs, were in one corner to keep the fire going, and a plate was on the ground with what looked to be a half-eaten rabbit.
“Do you live here now?” he choked in surprise.
Mhàiri laughed and went to sit down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her. “It does look like it, but I’ve been here only a couple of days. I would have returned to the castle today, but I feared it might turn worse and it did. I knew that at least here I would be safe and dry.”
Conan unhooked his sword and laid it down before sitting next to her on the blankets she was using as a bed. “And warm. How did you get dry wood?”
“Some of it isn’t so I have to be careful not to add too many of the wet ones on at a time, but those old broken logs were here already. I think someone else must have used this area for shelter as well.”
Conan pointed to the roof. “Since when did you know to do that?”
Mhàiri grinned. “Since I was a child. We had to build protected places for us to sleep when traveling. It was Shinae’s and my job to build the shelter, which included a roof most of the time.
It did not take very many wet nights for us to figure out not only how to build them quickly but how to lay the branches so that the wind won’t blow it away and keep everything warm and dry underneath, no matter how harsh the weather.
Though I must say, I am glad to be surrounded by these big rocks in this wind. ”
“You truly were not exaggerating when you said that you could take care of yourself.”
Mhàiri shook her head. “Everything I said that night was true, except for one thing.”
Conan leaned in and put his hands near the fire to get warm. “And what was that?”
“I promised you that I would be happy living out here, day after day, drawing with only the quiet of my thoughts. That was unfair, for I had no right to make such a promise when I did not know if that was true.”
Tension ran through every one of Conan’s limbs. Fate was cruel. Just as he had realized he could not live without her, she had realized she could not live with him.
“But now I can,” she said, looking up into his eyes.
Fear lingered there and she longed to remove it.
She reached up and caressed his chapped cheek.
“I’ve been out here for days now. Did you know that I have never done anything like this?
Just out drawing, traveling, alone with only my thoughts to keep me company?
” Conan shook his head. “I mean, at times, it was lonely and I wished you were here so we could talk, but most of the time, I reveled in the peace. It was colder than I’d thought, more uncomfortable than I had anticipated, and one night food was hard to find, but despite all of those things, I discovered something. ”
“And what’s that?” he asked, watching her every emotion as it flittered across her face.
“That I love it. I love the feeling of freedom. I love living by my rules and schedules and yet still serving a greater purpose through my drawings. I know who I am now, Conan. I am my mother’s child, born to roam and never be tied down.
That’s what makes me happy. And even if you can never understand that and still believe this life would make me miserable, it doesn’t matter anymore, because I know what I want now. ”
“It does matter, Mhàiri.” Lowering his head, he pressed her back onto the tartan-padded ground and covered her with his massive body, pushing himself between her legs.
He was a love-maddened dolt and he did not care.
His mouth came down on hers in a searing kiss.
A hungry sound escaped him as he demanded entry.
She willingly gave in, opening for him. Hot and wet, his tongue found hers.
He held her in place by the back of her neck as his lips devoured hers in a desperate need to claim her body and soul.
Needing to kiss and taste her everywhere, his lips trailed down her throat and suckled the warm pulse, uncaring that it would leave a mark on her. His hands were gliding along her hips and sides, taking everything in.
Mhàiri’s body screamed for more of him. To give him anything he wanted.
To give him all of her. Conan was her every dream.
A strong, confident, yet tender lover. Someone who believed in her.
Who would let her be herself. A man who could show her things she had never seen before and, at night, unleash her passion, matching it with his own.
Mhàiri loved him so much, but did he love her?