Terri Brisbin - Possessed by the Highlander

“My pardon,” he began, looking into the shocked eyes of the mother. “I was looking for you and thought you might be inside,” he explained.

Marian took Ciara’s hand, knowing that her daughter would run to him. The man had been the subject of her childish ramblings since his last visit here and now that he stood before them, Marian did not discount her daughter’s infatuation. His very size made her reluctant to enter the cottage, for he nearly touched the roof of it when he stood at his full height. It was Ciara’s other infatuation that saved her.

“Sir, can I see your horse?” her daughter asked.

A smile filled his face, once more softening his gaze and his eyes, as he nodded. But before he agreed aloud, he looked to her for permission. She was prepared for this, having thought through all sorts of scenarios after his last visit and knowing she must guide him into disinterest before it became dangerous.

Marian was prepared to wave off such an invita-tion…until she looked at her daughter’s face.

Never had she seen such an expression in Ciara’s eyes—wonderment and anticipation blended and practically shone like the sun there. Was it the attention of such a man that enthralled her daughter? Was it the simple interest in a lively animal? Or was there something else happening here? With a worried twisting in her stomach, she gave in without a word. All it took was a slight nod, and Ciara grabbed the Peacemaker’s hands and dragged him outside toward the horse.

Marian followed along, all but forgotten by both of them, or so she thought, until they reached the horse. Having seen it rear and rage, its docile stance now made her nervous. But, from the confident way that Ciara strode at Duncan’s side without hesitation, her daughter carried none of that fear. Although the horse raised its head and watched their approach, it stood still as they moved closer.

Duncan crouched down and whispered instructions to the girl before he took her to the horse’s side. She was as sure as anyone he’d seen in her manner around the animal and even the horse’s great size did not scare her off. He smiled and turned to her mother.

“With your permission, I would let her ride,” he said.

And he waited. He knew Mara was uncomfortable with even his presence, but he was counting on her desire to please her daughter to see this through.

“She is so small. I…” Mara shook her head. Though, if he could read her expression, she seemed less opposed to the idea and more fearful of it.

“Come,” he said, holding his hand out to her, “you get on first and place her in front of you.”

If he had thought her afraid, he’d been wrong. Duncan watched as the idea took hold within her and, in a second, he was no longer certain if she’d hesitated at all. Mara accepted his hand and stepped toward them.

She’d surprised her daughter as well, for the girl’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened and then she uttered one word filled with such awe and appreciation and wonderment.

“Mama.”

Duncan left the horse tethered to the tree and stood by the saddle. He lifted his foot and placed it in the stirrup to give her something to leverage herself up. Surprising him with her ability, Mara stepped on his foot and climbed into the saddle. Patting the horse’s neck, she seemed as much at home on the animal as he might be. After a moment of adjusting her skirts around her, she held her arms out for her daughter.

And she smiled.

The corners of her mouth curved up and the whole countenance of her face changed. Her appearance brightened and he discovered another woman instead of the stern one he’d met. This one seemed younger than the other and there was a mischievous glimmer in her eyes that made him question his first, second and third appraisals of her.

“You have ridden?” Although a statement, it came out as a question.

“Aye, sir. But, it has been many years since then.”

Her body adapted to the horse’s shifting as though she were born to it, regardless of her claims. Duncan reached down and took Ciara up in his arms and then handed her to Mara, who settled the girl before her. Their heads bent together and they whispered words he could not hear, but could guess. He stood back and watched them for a few moments and the tightness in his chest returned.

Marian dared not meet his gaze, for his eyes had taken on that soft look of yearning that she’d glimpsed before. He stepped away from them and, after a few minutes of letting the horse accustom itself to their weight (though together they did not weigh as much as he did) and presence, he tugged the reins free of the tree and turned to face her.

“Shall I walk you or would you like the reins?” he asked.

It was a quiet question but it caused a yearning of her own to creep into her heart.

When she lived here those years ago, a daughter of the laird surrounded by all the honor and comforts of such a position, riding had been her passion and her talent. Her brother told her she rode better than any man he knew and that had been a source of pride to her. Now, though, owning or riding a mount such as the one she’d had or one such as this would bring too much attention to her and would remind too many of her past. So, she exercised the self-control that had served her this long and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

“We would be pleased if you would control the horse, sir,” she said softly.

“Oh, yes, Duncan,” Ciara said. “Please?”

Her daughter knew nothing of her past, and she intended to keep it that way now. ‘Twas safer for all involved. Mara held on to her and watched with a feeling of pride as Ciara sat confidently before her, reaching out to pat the horse’s mane and to ask the Peacemaker an unending string of questions. So many in fact that he finally laughed a loud at them.

When they reached the end of the lane to her door, he turned, thankfully, not toward the rest of the village, but away and down the path that led to the bridge and off into the forest. He walked quietly at their side, guiding the horse to a slow and even gait. He continued across the bridge and down the road and then stopped just out of sight of the bridge.

“How was that, Ciara?” he asked. “Did you enjoy riding my horse?”

“Oh, yes,” she said in that soft, childish tone. “And Mama did, as well.”

“Did she now?” he asked her daughter while shifting his gaze to hers.

Marian swallowed and then swallowed again, trying to clear her throat of the tightness that had taken control. She did not understand the how or why of it, but a glance from this man made parts of her feel alive and awake. Parts that had never been tempted to feel anything, now pulsed with some sense of anticipation. Regardless of her past, regardless of her lack of experience in such things, she had the urge to touch her mouth to determine why it tingled so. Finally she blinked and freed herself from his gaze.

“Aye, sir. And my thanks for such a pleasant ride.” She smiled and kissed the top of Ciara’s head before handing her over to him. “‘Twas an uncommon treat for us.”

Ciara babbled on to him as he lowered her to the ground, nodding or shaking his head in quick succession as the questions and comments flowed unabated. Ciara, as much as she, was unused to the presence of such a man in her life. Pretending to be a widowed cousin of the laird extended a certain protection and excuse to their lives and, except for the occasional incursion of someone like Laren, the men of the clan gave them no troubles or even attention. What Iain had said, or what orders he’d given, she knew not. But, the result was that Ciara knew very few men at all.

Duncan stood and held out his hand for a moment before dropping it to his side. Marian shook her foot free of the straps on the other side of the horse and was preparing to climb down when his words stopped her.