Page 74 of How to Heal a Highland Heart
Epilogue
Patience waited at the bridge to their home, one hand gripping the missive that said Brodee was returning to her this day from the siege of the Gordon clan’s castle, Cawdridge Castle, and the other on the gentle swell of her belly. She smiled as snow began to fall. She could hardly wait to see him, to touch him and know he was safe. She yearned to feel his arms around her and gaze in his eyes when she told him of the child she carried.
“My lady,” Cul said beside her. “The laird will be vexed with me when he sees ye standing in the snow in yer condition.”
Fergus grunted his agreement from her other side, and Mari, who was far less subtle, said from behind her, “Ye should go in and sit. Ye work in this castle too much.”
She grinned at Mari. She had never quit mothering Patience after the night Kinsey had pushed her from the cliffs. “I dunnae work any more than anyone else in the castle.”
“But ye are the lady of the castle,” Jane chided gently.
“Exactly,” Patience replied to the lass, noticing her staring overly long at Cul and him returning the admiration. Patience smiled, hoping the two of them would come together. Then she spotted Brodee’s horse, and at the same time, she felt a trembling under her feet from the hundreds of horses galloping toward them. “There they are!”
When the men gained the bridge, the vibrations became so strong they tickled the bottoms of Patience’s feet. “Look at the sight of my husband returning,” she whispered in awe. Mist had risen and swirled white in the air as Brodee’s destrier led the pack. He’d told her the leader should always go first, taking the greatest risk as was his duty, and Brodee was the most honorable man she had ever known.
His black warhorse seemed to part the very mist as he rode toward her. Very close behind him was another rider she assumed to be William. Behind him was a sea of warriors, once Blackswells and Kincaides, but all the men now called themselves Blackswells. It had not taken long for the Kincaide men to see what she had recognized almost from the start: Brodee was an exceptional man. The sort of man that became a legend, which he already was. The sort of man others wanted to emulate, as William and Cul so clearly did. The sort of man they trusted implicitly, gave their loyalty to totally, and would die for. He would never be second in his home, and she would never be worthless.
She rolled up the missive and handed it to Mari, who held her hand out for it, now knowing her so well. Patience smoothed her gown, licked her lips, and barely resisted the urge to pinch her cheeks. “Do I look—”
“Aye,” Mari said. “But lass, he sees yer beauty clear to the inside of ye.”
Patience nodded, her eyes welling with unexpected tears of happiness, as they so often did these days.
Brodee brought his horse to a halt a few feet from them and dismounted in one fluid motion, closing the distance to her before she could even take a proper step. He scooped her into his arms, her feet leaving the ground, and swirled her around to which Jane and Mari both shouted, “Stop!”
Brodee immediately froze and looked to her. “What is it? Are ye ill?”
“Nay.” She gave the others a warning look. They knew she wished to tell him in private, and they all remained silent.
“Thank God.” Brodee’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss that curled her toes while making her belly flutter and conveying just how very much he missed her. When he broke the kiss, he said, “I have thought of precious little but ye.”
William was almost upon them now, and there was a man now riding beside him. The other rider had a hood pulled over his head so she could not make out his face. “How was the siege?” she asked. “I fashed day and night that my father would betray ye…”
“Oh, he did,” Brodee said, setting her down and pulling her snugly to his side. She knew it was to offer comfort if she should need it.
She slid her arm around his waist with a sigh. “I wish I could say I was surprised. Is he—” She swallowed hard. “Is he dead?”
“Nay, lass,” Brodee said gently as William, who waved his hand in greeting, and the man beside him halted their horses some feet away. “But he awaits trial for treason against the king, and he will likely be put to death.”
Tears did spill down her cheeks then, which she brushed quickly away. “I dunnae ken why I’m crying,” she whispered and turned her face into Brodee’s chest.
His hand came to her hair, a gentle, gliding caress. The touch instantly soothed her. “Because ye have a good heart, and ye are filled with kindness.”
She nodded, took a moment to compose herself, and then looked to Brodee. “What of his castle? And my brother? Dear God, dunnae tell me my brother aided him. Dunnae tell me my brother is dead.”
Brodee suddenly looked to William and the man with him who had both dismounted. “Yer brother was the one who warned me of yer father’s deceit. He rode to me in the night with men he’d gathered to come for ye. It seems he made a vow to ye that ye would nae ever have to wed again. At first he intended to kill me, to free ye from my murderous clutches….”
Patience gasped and glared at William when he chuckled. “I will write to him and reassure him I’m safe.”
“I told him ye would.” Brodee smiled. “After we had a sound fight, that is. Yer brother is an excellent fighter and a good man. But he insisted he had to see ye for himself, hear from yer own lips that ye are happy, healthy, and wish to be wed to the Savage Slayer.”
The man with the hood cleared his throat.
“Duff!” she cried, racing to him and hugging him. He hugged her back.
He pushed back the hood, his dark hair blending with the night. “Hello, Patience.”
“Why did ye remain silent?” she asked him, so grateful to see him. “Why did ye wait to make yer presence known?”
