Highland Strength (Book 3)

Chapter 19

Some nodded as she passed, giving strained smiles, before going back to their intense almost silent conversations. Her eyes landed upon Catriona. Her curls had darkened from blonde to a light golden brown since her birth, but in slumber, she was still angelic. Though she knew exactly what kind of sprite she was when awake. Full of energy and laughter, the bairn had taken with Artair, following him around, and Fyfa did not think Artair even noticed the strangeness of it, just laughed at her antics, and swung her up in his arms as often as he could. The girl was enamoured, and had told Aislinn that Artair was hers. Just like Snow her pony was hers, and no one was allowed to take either away. A soft smile over took Fyfa as she thought of the resolute, stubborn nod that had overtaken the girl as she had told her mother such. A stinging tear appearing in her eye as she knew exactly how crushing it would be for the clan, and for this tiny bairn if something happened to Artair. For if it happened to him, they most probably would have lost Aonghus as well.

A small movement brought her gaze back to Catriona, her arm clasping the hound she slept atop of tightening. The poor creature had had no choice but to lay there, rather good naturedly, sprawled before the hearth. No one had managed to successfully move her from the dog, not without the threat of a major melt down that no one at this moment wanted to deal with, and with the vision they presented, it was almost a perfect moment, if not for one of their own in a dire situation in the hall above.

A small disgruntled sound from her own bairn brought her attention back to the fact she had stopped moving. Aibne was one for movement, always had been, he did not like to be still unless he was feeding. Which had caused many a night time walk around the cottage they lived in, swapping every so often with Hamish, and wearing a rut in the floor as they trudge sleepily around, much to the amusement of their son. Nudging his head closer into her embrace, he pursed his bow lips before taking a deeper breath. At least some could sleep as turmoil hit the clan. In years to come the bairns would not know what they slept through, but those who held them, and shared worried glances over their heads, they would take this moment to their graves.

A pair of strong, muscular arms came around her waist. She did not jump or flinch, knowing this embrace as intimately as the male it belonged too. The world weary sigh pulled from him tugged at her heart, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her shoulder. Much as his son had just done with her bosom. As she stared into the leaping flames allowing her husband the strength he needed from her, she waited on bated breath for the news he would have brought. He brought his lips to her ear, not lifting his head any further, as if loathe to lose any contact with her. One hand on her lower stomach cupping their own secret, keeping it warm and safe in this time or trouble, the other hand coming up to cup hers where it lay cradling their son.

“Artair lives, though it looks as if he were living death at the moment.” She did not speak, letting him tell her what he needed to say. She could hear the catch in his voice as he spoke. This was one of his brothers in arms. More a brother by blood than any which could have been born as such. Yet, some of the pain she knew came from the fact that is Artair acted as such here, it meant Aonghus was out there somewhere God only knew, alone and possibly dying. “Aislinn and Nessia have asked if you will go and help them make him comfortable. Nessia believes it is now down to Aonghus to improve, she has done all she can here.” Turning in his arms, she balanced Aibne in one arm and reached up with her free hand. Cupping his whiskered beloved face in her palm. Pulling him the tiny distance to caress her lips against his. Not a passionate kiss, more of a soothing show of love and strength.