The fine wool of Alex's cloak felt luxurious against my cheek. I couldn't remember the last time I felt the brush of fine fabric across my skin. After a shocked moment, regaining his center of balance, Alex laughed. He encircled his arms around me. Holding me, providing the first whispers of physical comfort I had received in years. His cheek was hot against my skin where it pressed against my neck. I threaded my fingers through the curls at his nape.
"Thank you, thank you! Thank you!" I blubbered my gratitude to Alex and the nameless and voiceless gods; offered my thanks to the fairies. It didn't matter who had made Alex's appearance possible. It only mattered that he had come. His arms were warm and solid and he smelled like campfire and cold air and ale. The strength of his embrace assured me he was healthy and hale.
Squeezing him extra tight for a few more seconds, I composed myself before stepping back. I wiped the remaining tears on the back of my grubby sleeves. My appearance was shameful, careworn, and ragged. My boots had holes in them and my dress was two or three inches too short, the hem unraveling and fabric shredding. Alex looked so whole, so well-fed; his face full of radiance, bright from the wind and travel. I offered him a timid smile — abruptly self-conscious in front of my friend.
"I — " I tried to explain how happy I was to see him, but my voice cracked. New tears spilled over my cheeks as my eyes welled up again.
"It's good to see you too, Eilean," he said with a smile, reaching up and brushing his thumb along my cheek.
"Did Calum find you?" I asked, scanning the riders that waited in a semi-circle around where Alex and I stood. They adverted their gazes and studied the castle or their reins.
"Calum?"
"I sent him to find you," I explained, looking back at Alex. I allowed myself a momentary swoon as I met his sparkling blue eyes. How I had missed their depths. Everything about Alex was familiar and nostalgic. The arc of his cheek, the slope of his shoulders. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to anchor myself on his arm and know for certain that he was real and he was here. "Calum McKerran, Laird Grant of the Northern Isles."
Alex scowled, "Why would you send a Northern Laird to find me?"
"I hadn't heard from you in months," I said with a shrug. "I've never received a letter from the front, and I didn't know if you were hurt or ill or had entered the war —"
Alex gave me a slow, lazy grin. A trail of heat ran down my spine at the indulgence in his knowing smile.
"Worried about me, Eilean?" His voice was a low purr edged in cockiness that skittered over my soul.
I couldn't stop myself from blurting, "Of course I worried."
When he laughed, I looked down, blushing.
Alex looped his arm around my neck and pulled me tight into his chest. His lips brushed against my hairline. "I worried about you, too."
With plodding footsteps, Angus walked up to us with a scowl on his face. "I assume you know this man, based on your embrace and utter lack of regard to proper security protocols."
Alex tensed, bristling. "And who are you?"
I stepped out from under Alex's arm and waved my hand between the two men. "Angus Boyd, meet Alexander Leslie, Lord of the Fist of the Mainland. Alex, meet Angus Boyd, my secretary, and man to Laird Grant of the Northern Isles."
"Sworn to serve the lady as part of my Laird's promise to Stormway." Angus bowed his head tightly, not taking his eyes off Alex.
"Sworn to your father?" Alex asked me with raised brows.
"No," I chuckled, "to me, actually." I attempted to bite back my smile, but the look of shock on Alex's face was too amusing.
"Really?" Alex hummed, raising his brows. "What a traitor you are, Eilean. It seems there were some changes between your last letter and my arrival." He laughed, tipping his head back with true amusement.
The sight and sound of it warmed me more than a thousand suns. The brilliance and goodness of his beautiful face could have fed me for an entire month.
"Only accepting oaths of fealty and inviting the enemy onto my lands. War has made me quite the usurper."
Angus grunted a laugh. He shared an easy glance with Alex, and both men relaxed their shoulders.
"I would have been here ages ago," Alex said, looking frustrated. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I left the moment I received your last letter."
My heartbeat faltered, I reached out and gripped Alex's forearm. "But the crossing only takes three weeks. I sent that letter months ago."
"I know. We got trapped in a storm and had to harbor on some afterthought of an island while we repaired our ships. Then, there was a succession of foul weather that kept us anchored far longer than I expected. With no one on the island but for us, and no way of sailing in the storms, I couldn't send you a note."
I loosed a shaky breath. Had I sincerely doubted him?
"A letter from The Fist informing me of your departure would have been enough," I challenged, pushing down the horror I felt at his misadventure. Anything could have happened.
"Yes," Alex ground out, "but I figured it was more heroic to arrive with men and supplies without forewarning. It would have been a wonderful surprise."
I rolled my eyes.
Alex started rummaging through his saddlebags, "I brought all the men I could spare —"
"There are over a thousand men here," Angus interjected, his eyes scanning the swarm before us.
"The Fist is the largest Mainland territory," I answered mildly.
Angus only shook his head, jaw slack. He gave me an emphatic look, bulging out his small eyes, that I couldn't understand.
"Twelve hundred, to be exact. And I brought wool, grain, meat, seeds, oil, thread, medicine... I have it all," Alex said. His expression was sincere, eyes rounded, mouth ticked up in a hopeful smile.
I could hardly breathe at his generosity. I flexed my hands into a fist, the bite of my fingernails against my palm was all I had to keep my grip on reality.
Alex pulled a small box out of his cargo and handed it to me, looking wickedly pleased with himself. "A gift of apology, to soothe the sting of my late arrival. I meant it to be a new year present, but it will have to function as both."
I took the offered gold box. It was the most ornate thing I had held in years. My cracked fingertips and broken nails looked at odds with the shiny, embossed wrapping and delicate red bow. Opening it, I saw there were six marzipan violets inside. My favorite candy.
"Alex," I sighed, unable to say more as emotion overcame me. When I met his eyes, there was nothing but delight there — like dancing sunlight on a morning sea.
I nodded to him, Alex nodded to Angus, and Angus nodded to the guards at the gate. In seconds they pulled the gate up and I watched in wonder as Alex's men rode into Stormway.
It was the work of minutes for the leaders to dismount and start unloading their wares in a process of controlled chaos. The courtyard was soon teeming with men shouting and wagons being unloaded. Angus stepped away from Alex and me and went to oversee the distribution of the supplies.
"There's enough here to outfit an army," I marveled.
"You have a large Island to care for, Eilean. Now, a majority of these men will return to The Fist after the spring planting, but I will keep enough of them here to help support the estate and Ellesmure," Alex explained.
Four men unloaded a wagon of preserved fruits, carrying the crates to the back of the kitchen door. Cook, popping her head out and seeing the goings-on, instantly hustled her staff to help direct the flow of goods. She stood in the middle of the fray, hands on her hips, a vague smile on her face. Bewildered, she looked entirely bewildered. Noticing Alex, she lifted her hand to the sky, waving, tears streaming down her face.
"If you brought cinnamon and sugar, I'll wager there's a pan of buns with your name on it by dinner," I said to Alex under my breath.
"Of course I brought cinnamon and sugar," he scoffed in pretend offense. "I know what wheels to grease."
Servants filtered out of the castle and helped unload. It all worked seamlessly, a machine of process, structure, and purpose. Angus shouted passionately about the servants leaving the safety of the cellars before being properly dismissed. The servants giggled at his outrage, shaking their heads at his clucking. His red-faced indignation was soothed when a Mainlander handed him a bottle of ale.
"I don't remember the last time I had fruit," I whispered as a man carried a crate of apples past us.
Alex frowned, his eyes flicking over my body a few times. I resisted the urge to cross my arms or hunch my shoulders over. The truth was evident without attempting to cover myself — we had starved.
"You're saving us," I offered, hoping there was some way I could ever repay his generosity.
"Your letter scared me to death. I knew it had to be bad if you were foregoing all the pleasantries and jokes... and asking me something outright. Eilean MacLeod suffers in silence, she does not ask for help."
I bit my lip, looking away; overcome at being so well known and for being exposed as a coward.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His arm curled around my shoulder, a steady, warm weight.
Shaking my head, I sighed, "I don't know."
"I wouldn't have — " He stopped and shook his head. Alex's arm traveled up over my back. He rubbed the area between my shoulders. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter, now. I am here. If that brings you any comfort at all. It should, as you wrote me. So want me or not, here I am."
I chuckled at his self-deprecating.
Alex continued, "But I have to warn you, I know nothing about farming." He fixed me with a serious look, though a glimmer of mischief flickered in his eyes. "I may doom you all yet."
I laughed, loudly. Perhaps for the first time in my life. That was how it felt. My startled joy chased away the lingering grasp of gloom that had been my closest companion for so many years. I folded myself into Alex's arms, embracing him around the torso. His admission was true, of course. Alex's estate boasted the largest vineyards and distillery in the Mainlands. Unlike the other regions focused on crop production, The Fist mainly produced wine and beer. Little to none of that experience would translate here. Still, it didn't matter. He was here, he had arrived. I had my best friend back at last.
"You're in good company at least, as neither do I," I winked up at him, near frantic with happiness.
Alex beamed and tightened his arms. "I've been reading some books on the subject. And some of my men have experience of course —"
I laughed again at the thought of him studying up on the latest in farming practices.
"Come," I said, slipping out of his arms and grabbing his hand. I tugged him forward. "Let's get you cleaned up. Then we can get to work."