Chapter 23
For one suspended heartbeat, nobody moved. Elodie froze, as stunned as the rest of them as she watched Bryce Campbell’s cavalry pour over the bridge, banners snapping in the wind. Even the Murdoch riders seemed frozen by the sight.
But it took Henry Murdoch only a second to recover. He wheeled his horse sharply.
“Come about!” he bellowed. “Form up! Let’s meet the bastards head on!”
Bryce’s riders crashed into the Murdoch flank like a breaking wave. Elodie winced as she heard horses scream and saw men thrown from their saddles. The orderly ranks of the Murdoch force folded in on themselves, split cleanly apart by the sheer force of the charge.
A cheer rose from the defenders. It was ragged at first, almost disbelieving. Then louder.
“They’ve come!”
“They’re helping us!”
But Elodie took no notice. Her eyes searched frantically through the chaos until she found Ronan. He sat astride Angus in the middle of the defenders, staring at the unexpected arrivals just like everyone else. But only for an instant.
Then he was moving, standing in his stirrups and bellowing at the top of his voice. “Hold together! Nobody breaks ranks! Defend the wagons!”
She felt a surge of fierce pride. Even now, with Bryce’s cavalry smashing into the enemy, Ronan wasn’t thinking about revenge but about protecting his people. The people of the Steading rallied around him, forming a tight ring around the children, elderly and injured within the ring of wagons.
Elodie itched to go and join them, to position herself at Ronan’s side. But she didn’t move. They all had their part to play and Elodie knew hers.
A wounded man staggered towards them, limping heavily and Elodie hurried forward with Faye. Blood soaked the man’s left leg from the knee down.
“Sit him down,” Faye instructed.
Together they eased him onto a blanket. Elodie pressed a folded cloth against the wound while Faye worked with calm, practiced movements, inspecting the damage.
Around them the fighting rolled backwards and forwards like an incoming tide and Elodie forced herself not to look for Ronan. If she saw him fall... She forced herself to concentrate on the wounded man in front of her.
But Elodie looked up as she heard the dogs barking.
She saw Bran go tearing through the smoke with Skye at his heels, barking furiously as they harried a Murdoch horse from behind.
The startled animal reared, throwing its rider into the mud, where David—still pale from his own recent wound but refusing to stay behind—lunged forward with several others to disarm him.
Nearby, Eamon laughed aloud as he knocked another raider sprawling with the butt of his staff. “That’s for Thomas!”
Someone else yelled, “And for the Steading!”
The cry spread. “For the Steading!”
Henry Murdoch heard it too. Elodie saw him on the far side of the fighting, turning rapidly in the saddle as he took in the collapsing situation. His forces were caught. Bryce’s cavalry pressed from one side, Ronan’s defenders from the other.
Lady Alana rode up beside her husband, gesturing furiously towards the bridge.
Even from this distance Elodie could tell they were arguing.
Henry pointed towards Ronan and Alana shook her head violently.
Then she pointed again, this time towards Bryce’s cavalry.
Henry looked once more at the battlefield.
His face twisted with fury. Finally, he slashed his sword through the air and a horn sounded. The Murdoch riders began breaking away and within moments the organized assault dissolved into a desperate scramble to escape before Bryce’s cavalry surrounded them completely.
“They’re running!” Eamon bellowed.
Cheers erupted all around the camp. Exhausted defenders leaned on their staffs. Others embraced each other openly.
Elodie grabbed the edge of a wagon to steady herself. Her legs suddenly felt like water. Sucking in air through her nostrils, she raised her head and looked around, frantically searching.
Where was he? Oh God, where was he?
“Go find him, lass!” Faye called. “I’ve got things under control here.”
Elodie nodded silently then squeezed through the ring of wagons into the open ground beyond. Smoke obscured much of the area, hanging like gauzy sheets in the air. Where was Ronan? The thought pounded frantically through her head. Where was he?
Her legs felt heavy as she wandered across the battlefield. Broken muskets lay abandoned in the grass. Discarded hats. Splintered staffs. Here and there small knots of Campbell soldiers were gathering prisoners or tending their own wounded.
But she couldn’t see Ronan.
Panic began to set in, sending her heart pounding. “Ronan!” she yelled. “Ronan!”
Then the smoke cleared a little and she spotted him. He stood alone near the bridge, gazing out across the valley where the Murdoch army had disappeared. She let out a shaking breath and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.
She started towards him but somebody beat her to it. Bryce Campbell was walking towards his brother.
He was alone. His men remained a respectful distance away. Elodie stopped as Bryce halted a few paces from his younger brother. Neither man spoke. Neither man moved. The silence stretched as the two brothers who’d been separated by pride, grief and blood faced each other.
She found herself holding her breath, knowing this moment would change everything.
RONAN WATCHED AS HIS brother came to stand in front of him. He had imagined this moment a thousand times over the years. Sometimes he and Bryce fought. Sometimes they embraced. Most often, Ronan imagined himself turning away, leaving the past where it belonged.
Never had he imagined this, his brother riding to his aid, risking his own life for his.
Bryce’s dark eyes looked Ronan up and down but still he said not a word.
Neither seemed quite certain how to begin. At last Bryce gave a short, humorless laugh. “Ye were always a pain in the arse, even when we were children. Ye know that?”
“Aye,” Ronan agreed. “I know that.”
That drew the faintest twitch at the corner of Bryce’s mouth. For just an instant he looked like the brother Ronan remembered from long ago. Then it vanished again.
“I nearly let ye die today.” Bryce stared across the battlefield.
“I told myself it wasnae my affair, that ye chose yer path and that ye could live or die with the consequences.” Bryce’s jaw tightened and he met Ronan’s gaze.
“But I heard what ye said to Murdoch. I heard ye refuse to betray me, even when Henry Murdoch offered ye my head.” His gaze sharpened.
“I have to admit, I was a little surprised by that. And I was even more surprised when I realized I couldnae watch ye die.”
“And I’m grateful,” Ronan said. “And I’m also sorry. For everything. I dinna think I ever told ye that.”
His gaze drifted to the spot on Bryce’s hip where the scar lay beneath his shirt. Bryce instinctively laid his hand over it. For several seconds he simply stood there. Then he sighed.
“I’m sorry too,” he said at last. “Back then I was a bit of a bastard, apparently. Evan and Niall helped me see that.” At the look of surprise that crossed Ronan’s face, he gave a brief laugh.
“Aye, we’ve reconciled and I’m just as shocked by that as ye are.
” He rubbed his chin. “Ye have to understand, Ronan, things weren’t as simple as ye think.
Father left the estate in heavy debt and as heir, those debts fell to me.
I thought the only way to manage it was to take everything.
Or that’s what I told myself anyway. So aye, I’m sorry. ”
The admission hung between them. Ronan had imagined hearing those words for years. He had thought he would feel triumphant at his brother’s humbling. Instead, he only felt sad. Sad that neither of them said these words all those years ago and saved themselves this bitterness and heartache.
“So was I,” he said softly. “If ye were a bastard, then so was I. I had no right to do what I did to ye.”
Bryce looked surprised. Silence settled again but this one felt gentler, less hostile.
Bryce looked towards the river. “Yer woman came to see me.”
“Aye. I know.”
Bryce snorted. “She was quite...formidable.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Ye dinna know the half of it.”
“I couldn’t decide whether she was remarkably brave or utterly mad.”
“A little of both.”
Bryce smiled. “Perhaps. Yet she talked a lot of sense. She asked questions I’d never considered. I’ve negotiated with chiefs. Judges. Government men. None of them cornered me the way she did.”
Ronan nodded. “That’s my Elodie.”
Bryce reached inside his coat and Ronan stiffened instinctively, but instead of a weapon, Bryce produced a folded parchment which he held out to Ronan. “I had my clerk prepare this.”
“What is it?”
“The agreement Elodie suggested.”
Slowly, Ronan reached out to take it. As he scanned the opening lines his eyes widened.
Bryce spoke quietly. “It’s a charter. An agreement. Ye swear fealty to me as earl. I recognize yer right to father’s southern lands. I guarantee their protection under Campbell law.”
Ronan looked up, stunned. “Ye had this written...”
“After Elodie left?” Bryce nodded. “I wasnae ready to admit she’d made sense at the time. Like I said, sometimes I can be an arse. But then Murdoch came and made the decision for me.”
Ronan folded the parchment carefully. “I dinna know what to say.”
Bryce shrugged. “Try ‘thank ye’.”
Ronan laughed. A genuine laugh. Perhaps the first he’d shared with Bryce since they had been boys. “Thank ye.”
Bryce nodded once, a tiny smile twitching his lips. “Ye are welcome.”
He extended his hand. Ronan stared at it. Then slowly, hesitantly, reached out and clasped it. Just two brothers who had finally grown tired of carrying old wounds. Bryce squeezed his hand once before letting go.
“I’ll have the charter witnessed before sunset.”
Ronan nodded. “So will I.”
Bryce turned to leave. After a few paces, he stopped. Without looking back he said quietly, “Father would’ve been proud of what ye’ve built.”
The words struck Ronan hard and he felt his throat tighten.
“And Mother?” Bryce added. “She would have liked Elodie.”
Then he strode off towards his men, bellowing orders to mount up and chase after the Murdochs.
Ronan stood watching him for a moment then looked down at the charter in his hands.
He realized he was trembling. The past had not disappeared.
The scars remained and he suspected that some always would.
But for the first time in years they no longer felt like chains.
He turned, looking for Elodie. She was standing maybe fifty paces away, watching him carefully.
Her expression was full of hope and relief and a thousand things besides.
His heart swelled at the sight of her. He gave a carefree laugh and took off running towards her.
She did the same and as they met in the middle, he caught her by the waist, picked her up, and swung her around, giving a joyous cry.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Is...is it over?” she asked tremulously.
He held her close and breathed in the scent of her. Everything seemed right with the world when she was in his arms. “Aye,” he breathed. “It’s over. Bryce’s men will hunt the Murdochs down. They willnae be getting their hands on the Steading any time soon.”
“Thank God,” she breathed. “I was terrified. If anything should happen to you—”
“But it didnae. And it willnae. I’m afraid ye will have to put up with me a while longer yet.” He smiled. “For our whole lives if I have my way.”
Her breath caught. “Our whole lives?”
He ran his thumb across her cheek. Lord, how he loved her. “I canna live without ye, Elodie MacNeil,” he said softly. “I want ye to stay. I want to spend my life by yer side. Will ye marry me?”
For a second, she looked stunned. A second later, she yanked the front of his plaid hard enough to make him stumble and kissed him thoroughly enough to send heat spiraling right down to his groin.
When she finally stepped back they were both a little breathless.
He blinked. “Is that an aye?”
“Aye, it’s an aye!” she cried. “It’s a thousand times aye!”
Then she kissed him again and this time she didn’t let go.