Wed to a Highland Warrior (9 page)

“I am sorry,” he said. “I admire your skills and the courage it takes to deal with them. Though they intrigue me, you intrigue me more. There is so much more to you than your abilities. You care about helping complete strangers, and you give of your skill to any who ask. And I should know better than to always ask, for I am your husband, and with me it should be different.”

He kissed her then, not a light kiss or an apologetic one, but one filled with love.

Chapter 12

L
ove.

It was an exquisite feeling though Bliss wondered if Trey experienced its power as much as she did. Was it just another kiss to him, or did he feel the overwhelming punch that love had delivered?

She didn’t want the kiss to end, but then she never wanted his kisses to end. His kisses not only sparked her passion, they brought her mind some rest, and that was a precious gift.

“Kissing you is so very different than any kiss I have ever experienced,” he said after he ran his lips gently over hers one last time.

“How so?” she whispered.

“It consumes me and I feel . . .”

Bliss knew his words trailed off because he wasn’t quite sure how he felt, and that meant he needed to discover the depth of love that she had felt.

Trey shook his head. “I cannot say for sure.”

“In time,” she encouraged, and gave his cheek a kiss. “Now we must not dally any longer.”

“But I so want to dally,” he teased, and nibbled at her lips.

She chuckled and shook her head. “As much as I wouldn’t mind dallying, myself, we cannot. It is time for us to move on. A troop approaches.”

They didn’t hesitate. Trey quickly looked around, and with no refuge in sight, he chose the only thing left to them . . . the trees.

Bliss wrapped her arms around his neck, and, after he grabbed the lowest branch, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He climbed the branches with little effort and found a solid spot where they could perch. Once wrapped around each other and braced snugly in the crevice where two thick branches and the tree trunk met, they waited.

It wasn’t long before a sizeable troop on horses rode right beneath them. Their gait was steady, not at all rushed, almost overly confident. Bits of conversation drifted up through the branches and the leaves that had yet to fall.

Bliss smiled at the snippets of chatter she caught.

“Gave his son the sickness, he did.”

“Don’t want none of his food.”

“Glad we left fast.”

So Albert had fared well; she was pleased.

The chatter continued.

“Too far north.”

“We’ll battle the snow before we battle foe.”

The soldiers seemed to have their doubts as to the king’s decision to send them north just before winter. Not a good tactical move to their way of thinking and one that could cost many soldiers their lives.

The voices drifted off as the last of the soldiers passed beneath them.

Trey cautioned silence, and Bliss saw why when a lone soldier appeared several minutes later. He meandered slowly, his attention on the road. No doubt scouting to make certain no one followed. After he finally vanished from sight, Trey climbed down from the tree, bringing them effortlessly to the ground.

“I need to follow their trail,” he said.

He had not included her. He obviously worried over her safety, but then she worried over his. Wasn’t that how it was when it came to love?

She was about to argue, wanting to help him, when she realized it would be best for her to remain behind. She couldn’t say why; she only knew it was the right thing to do.

So she did what was best for them both. “I can wait here for you if you think it more prudent.”

His smile hinted at relief, and he took hold of her hand. “I must find you a safe place to hide.”

She gave a quick glance around and, finding what she searched for, pointed a short distance away. “That formation of rocks, I’ll take shelter behind them and wait there for you.”

He appeared reluctant to leave, and she was not surprised at his reluctance after learning of what had happened to Leora. She now better understood his need to protect.

“Go,” she urged. “I will be fine.” She gave him a light shove, and he reluctantly left her side.

“I will return,” he said after taking only a few steps and casting a quick glance over his shoulder.

She nodded and turned, not wanting to watch him walk away, and made her way to the cropping of rocks.

Aye, he would be back for her, and love would grow between them . . . and intimacy. She smiled at the thought and looked forward to it. The more she got to know Trey, the more easily she fell in love with him. He was such a good, caring man and one she could rely on without worry or doubt. And that appealed to her more than his fine features and lean body.

She laughed and shook her head. That wasn’t completely true. She favored his good looks and his attractive body. She couldn’t keep from smiling though it didn’t seem right to feel lighthearted and carefree at the moment, but she couldn’t help it.

Love was teasing her heart, and she was enjoying every part and parcel of it.

Bliss stopped abruptly and listened. She heard stirring behind the cropping of rocks. She waited and sensed . . . then knew. A man waited there.

T
rey made his way cautiously through the woods, traveling parallel to the path the soldiers had taken. He had limited time to view the troop encampment. Lingering too long could get him caught since there probably would be sentinels around the camp. And no doubt, scouts roamed about. He had to survey the area quickly and be gone.

Besides, he didn’t want to leave Bliss unprotected too long. She did carry a weapon of sorts, her knowing. But it would do her little good if caught by a group of soldiers, and that was what he feared.

She was vulnerable no matter what way he looked at it. And it tore at his gut that he had to leave her alone in the woods.

He didn’t need to get too close to the camp to judge troop buildup, and the closer he got, the more of a chance he would take of getting caught. So he kept a safe distance, and when he came upon a tall pine tree, he knew it would give him the view and safety he needed.

He climbed it with haste though cautiously, and, not far from the top, he found himself a good perch that gave him a clear view of the troop encampment. There he waited and watched.

It was larger than he had expected, and seeing the preponderance of archers there was no doubt that preparation was being made for battle. The question was when would the king strike?

Or perhaps the question was that the prophecy was about to be fulfilled.

When summer touches winter and the snow descends, the reign of the false king begins to end, four warriors ride together and then divide, among them the true king hides, when he meets death on his own, that is when he reclaims the throne.

Just before he had come upon Bliss, the weather had been unnaturally warm and now it was cold and no doubt snow would soon fall, fulfilling part of the prophecy. Missions had divided him and his brothers. And despite the buildup of troops, the fact that more troops were yet to arrive meant that an attack was not imminent. But why would King Kenneth be foolish enough to wage war in winter? Or did he believe it would be tactically beneficial since neither Trey nor his brothers would expect an attack from the north, especially this time of the year?

Whatever the answer, he was glad he had happened upon the information. He and his brothers could now make sure that they were prepared. Or perhaps attack before King Kenneth did.

Having learned what he needed to know, Trey was ready and eager to return to Bliss, but as he reached the lower limbs of the tree, he heard voices and instantly stilled. He listened but could only hear snippets, and he didn’t like what he heard.

It seemed a sentinel was being placed right beneath the tree, and the other two soldiers with him were debating the wisdom of the spot. He hoped the older soldier won the debate since he thought it a foolish choice, but the younger one was adamant.

Trey waited, knowing that once the sentinel was alone he would have no choice but to attack and take his leave. But if he did that, he would alert the encampment to the presence of an enemy. No doubt contingents of soldiers would be sent to find the culprit, and that could prove difficult for the few farmers who lived in the area.

It was a dilemma for sure, and so he waited, though not patiently, hoping the older soldier would win, and the three would move to a different location.

He grew more irritated, and when, after a few moments passed and there was still no decision made by the quarrelsome two, Trey had no choice but to rest against the thick tree trunk and temper his impatience. It would do no good to let the soldiers know that someone watched. It could possibly force King Kenneth to take action before he planned to, and Trey did not want that.

And so he waited and waited when suddenly . . . he sat forward. He sensed something was happening with Bliss, and he couldn’t be sure if it was good or bad. And that frightened him. He had to get to her. He had wasted enough time, hours to be exact, and it would take at least another hour to return to her.

Where are you, Fate, now that I need you?

Suddenly, the quarreling stopped, and he could only hear grumbling. When Trey peered through the branches he saw the three soldiers walking away.

Had fate heard him and answered?

Perhaps so, and without hesitation, and as soundlessly as possible, he lowered himself to the ground and hurried off. He kept a fast pace, worried that night would fall before he was able to reach his wife.

He didn’t understand this sudden ability to sense when she needed him, or that she was in danger, but he was pleased with it. He liked that he was so attuned to her. It gave him more peace of mind.

He was relieved that he was making better time than he had expected, daylight having yet to give way to nightfall. He would need light, if for some reason he needed to follow her tracks—he stopped abruptly, realizing he had reached the very spot where he had left her.

With cautious and silent steps, he approached the cropping of rocks where she had said she would wait for him. Something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t surprised to find that she was not there. He was, however, surprised to see a bloody piece of cloth that looked to have been torn from her skirt.

He took a deep breath and gave thought. Was the blood hers, or had she come upon someone who had been injured and required help? But where would she have gone? And why would she leave the spot where she had said she would wait?

He cast a cautious glance to the ground and saw two separate and distinct footprints. One he knew belonged to his wife and the other was large and deep, and no doubt belonged to a sizeable man. He didn’t want to think she was in danger. And there were no indications in the footprints that there had been a struggle. She could have merely come upon an injured person, but why then would she go off with him?

Knowing his wife the answer came easily . . . someone needed her help.

His gut twisted with worry regardless of whether she willingly followed the man or not, and he started following the footprints. He would find out what happened though, more importantly, he’d find his wife.

It took until dusk for him to find the campsite and at first glance he knew he had no worry. He strode into camp, taking in the sorrowful scene surrounding him and keeping a keen watch for his wife.

There were at least a dozen farmers, all with injuries, some more serious than others. It didn’t take long to realize that the soldiers had simply dumped the farmers they had collected as soon as they had sustained a wound.

Many looked with pleading eyes at him, no doubt recognizing him as a MacAlpin warrior, and it troubled him that they had suffered for the true king.

Trey came to a halt when he spied his wife bent over a man prone on the ground, holding his hand. She released his hand to rest on his stomach, stood and turned as he approached, and his heart tore in two when he saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears. He rushed to her side.

“Trey,” she said on a sigh, and threw her arms around him.

He hugged her tight and he saw that the few nearby farmers nodded, as if in some way it gave them hope that they too would soon be reunited with their loved ones.

Bliss looked up at him. “I couldn’t save him. I tried, but it was too late.”

He wiped at the single tear that trickled from the corner of her eye. “You not only heal those you don’t know, but you mourn for them as well. His family will be pleased that he did not die alone but that a loving hand held his.”

“They all need healing,” she said with a sigh.

“You cannot mean to heal them all?” he asked with concern.

“Of course I do,” she said, and took a step away.

“It’s too much. I forbid it.”

Bliss smiled and shook her head. “A foolish choice of words for sure.”

Trey knew they were before they had left his mouth, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He was worried for her and wanted to protect. But she didn’t need his protection right now; she needed his support.

He rectified his error. “What do you need from me?”

Bliss stepped close and kissed his cheek. “That’s the husband I”—she stopped abruptly as if catching herself then finished—“I know.”

Trey had the distinct feeling that she intended to say I love, and the thought gladdened his heart. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me to see how bad the wounds are so I know whom to tend first.”

He nodded, and soon they were going through the camp, examining and ascertaining who was in need of immediate care. Bliss took a moment to introduce Trey to Burnell, the farmer who had bravely ventured away from camp in search of help. He had suffered a gash to his arm that had left it painful for him to use. Bliss had had to clean the wound, then bind it with cloth from the hem of her blouse. The healing she had done on it had given him movement without pain.

The big farmer had been grateful and pleaded for her help at the camp.

Once Bliss began to tend the injured, Trey, with Burnell’s help, got two campfires going. Then he went in hunt of food for the men, knowing that what little food he and Bliss had would never be enough to share with all of them. He caught enough game for the men to feast on, most not having eaten in days. And the delicious scent of the roasting meat brought smiles to many faces.

It wasn’t until well into the night that his wife finally finished with the last of the wounded.