Page 95 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
She watched Michael’s face as he took it all in, his eyes narrowed, his lips tight with thinly veiled horror. Cody looked from one end of the withered field to the other, his jaw tense.
Michael swung down from his horse, landing with a grunt. He stepped forward, his boots crunching on brittle ground, and knelt to press his fingers into the soil. It broke apart like ash in his palm, slipping between his fingers.
“Saints, lass… It’s worse than I imagined.”
“I brought ye here so ye could understand,” Abigail said, sliding down from her own mount. Her voice trembled, but she kept it steady. “This is what Kian’s been facin’. This is why he took me.”
Freya dismounted quietly and took Amara’s hand, leading her to the edge of the field.
Amara turned her face away, blinking fast. Freya murmured something in a voice too low to hear, but the grief in her tone was plain. There were no birds in the air, no bees in the blooms, because there were no blooms.
Michael rose slowly, brushing his palms on his tunic. “But why now? Why’s the land like this when the clans up north still harvest?”
Abigail met his eyes, her heart heavy. “It didnae rain this year, Michael. For some reason, this area was spared. Our clans are well fed, but here… they’ve had naught but prayers and root vegetables for months.”
Michael turned, taking it all in with a haunted expression. Cody joined him, his mouth tight, his gaze flocking to the farthest hill, where a few desperate stalks tried to grow.
“I thought the tales were exaggerated,” he muttered. “But this… this is hunger.”
Abigail nodded. “Kian tried to trade with other clans. Sent letters. Sent offers. They turned him down. So he…” She hesitated, pressing her lips together. “He did what he thought was best—he abducted me. Hopin’ that bringin’ me here would force our clans’ hand to a trade.”
Michael flinched, his jaw working. “I’ll nae say I approve of what he did. It was rash. Dangerous.” He paused, glancing again at the dry fields. “But… if me own people were on the brink of starvation, I dinnae ken what I might do either.”
Cody exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as reality hit him. “Da… perhaps it’s time we discuss a trade deal, after all.”
“Aye,” Michael said, turning toward Abigail with soft eyes. “Clan McEwan will answer the call. Nae because of threats or schemes, but because we’ve seen what’s at stake. We cannae ignore this.”
Freya stepped forward, her eyes glassy with emotion. “I’ll write to Marissa,” she said, her voice thick. “She needs to ken what’s happenin’ down here. Clan Reid will do their part too, I’m certain of it.”
Abigail covered her mouth, her breath catching in her throat. Relief overwhelmed her, and she stumbled forward, wrapping her arms around Freya and Michael in turn.
“Thank ye,” she whispered. “Thank ye both. I didnae ken if anyone would listen.”
Amara joined them, slipping her hand into Cody’s as they stood beneath the blazing sky. The wind rustled the dead stalks, whispering like ghosts.
“We’ll send word to the granaries before dusk,” Amara said gently. “There’s nay time to waste.”
Abigail stepped back, her cheeks wet. “Ye’ll save them. They’ve suffered for so long, and they dinnae deserve this.”
“We’ll help,” Michael assured her. “We’ll start with flour, potatoes, and oats. And I’ll speak with Kian about long-term trade.”
Abigail smiled through her tears, reaching for her horse’s reins. “Let’s head back to the castle, then. There’s much to plan, and Kian will want to hear this.”
They mounted their horses quickly, a solemn sense of purpose settling over them. As they rode back, the wind picked up ever so slightly, a cool breeze brushing Abigail’s cheeks as if to signal that change was coming.
She looked at the horizon, hope blooming in her chest for the first time in days. The road ahead was long, but she would walk it gladly side by side with those who chose compassion over fear.
Freya rode beside her and touched her arm. “Ye did what Kian couldnae. Ye opened their eyes.”
“I only showed them what needed to be seen,” Abigail murmured. “But maybe now we have a chance to fill more than just empty bellies.”
Michael rode ahead with Cody, the two men deep in conversation. Abigail’s gaze drifted to the castle, where smoke curled up gently from the chimneys.
Kian would still be resting, his body recovering slowly from the poison. She thought of his face, pale but determined, and the pain in his eye when he’d told her he’d do anything to save his people.
He’d made a terrible choice, but it was out of love, not cruelty. And now, finally, someone else had seen that too.
Freya tilted her head, a warm smile playing on her lips.
