Page 50 of The Outlaw's Bride
Dusk was settling, the last of the sun gilding the world with a beauty that only autumn sun seemed to possess. The loch glittered, and the wind that had chased them north all day died away.
As they rode in, Adaira spied the mounds of unlit bonfires on the hills to the south and north of the village. After dark, those fires would be lit, and the folk of Kiltaraglen would venture outdoors to celebrate Samhuinn.
The road brought them into the port village, in-between twin hills where two more piles of twigs and branches rose against the darkening sky. Men were rolling up barrels for the apple-bobbing.
Adaira gave a wistful smile as she thought of Dunvegan. Would Rhona and Taran be getting ready to enjoy tonight’s festivities? She imagined them wandering amongst the crowd, arms linked. They made a striking couple, for despite their different looks, they were both tall and proud.
Adaira’s throat constricted. She missed Rhona. How she wished to see her. Soon though, she’d see Caitrin again. Warmth flowed through Adaira’s breast at the thought.
“We’ll need to be careful in Kiltaraglen,” Lachlann warned her as they rode in. His gaze scanned their surroundings with a warrior’s sharpness. “Yer father might have left men here to keep an eye out for us.”
Adaira tensed. She hadn’t thought of that. She imagined her father might have sent warriors to Argyle, to seek her and Lachlann there, but she hadn't thought he might still be patrolling his lands for them. The thought made a chill prickle her skin.
“We can’t stay in the village,” Lachlann continued. “News of us will spread fast if we make ourselves visible.”
Adaira digested this before sighing. She’d secretly been hoping they’d have a comfortable night in the inn this time at least. “Where do ye suggest we sleep then?”
“We’ll make camp in the woods north of the village,” Lachlann replied. He then glanced over his shoulder, casting her a smile. “Ye should be able to see the Samhuinn fires from there too.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Keeping Warm
THE RHYTHMIC THUD of drums echoed through the night, like the steady beat of a heart.
Adaira sat, back pressed up to the rough bark of a birch, nibbling at a slab of bread and cheese, as she watched the fires of Samhuinn burn.
They lit up the darkness like glowing embers, beacons to call the spirits home.
“A roast hazelnut, milady?”
She started as a tall figure stepped out from the shadow of the trees and knelt next to her.
The aroma of warm roasted nuts wafted over her, and Adaira’s mouth watered.
“Lachlann!” She peered down at the tiny basket of nuts he held. “Where did ye get those?”
His face, kissed by the glow of the distant fires, was so handsome it made her belly flutter. His nearness made it difficult to breathe calmly.
“Ye can’t have Samhuinn without hazelnuts.”
“But … I thought it wasn’t safe for us to wander amongst folk?”
“Together, aye. But a man alone buying a wee basket of nuts doesn’t intrigue folk much.” He held the basket out to her. “Go on … I bought them for ye.”
Adaira took the basket and helped herself to a handful. They were fresh off the brazier, still hot. Their aroma brought back so many memories that for a moment her throat constricted. Then, she popped the nuts into her mouth and sighed. She offered him the basket. “Here … have some too.”
Lachlann took a handful and sat down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Although they weren’t touching, Adaira could feel his nearness. The fine hair on the back of her arms prickled in response.
On the hillside below, laughter rang out. Torches moved, glowing like fireflies in the darkness, traveling up and down from the village.
For a while Adaira and Lachlann merely watched, silence stretching between them. It wasn’t a companionable silence but a weighty one. Much had passed between them that day. Adaira felt odd, as if her skin was too tight, too sensitive. She was jittery around Lachlann. To distract herself, she focused on the bonfires in the distance and the showers of red sparks that erupted high into the sky
Finishing off the nuts, Adaira brushed the skins off her hands and met Lachlann’s eye briefly. “Thank ye for the hazelnuts. They were delicious.”
He smiled back but said nothing.
After a moment Adaira glanced away, her gaze fixing upon the bonfires once more. The tension between them was becoming unbearable. She was so aware of him that, although she was tired from traveling, her body felt restless.
