Her eyes widened and then she pursed her lips together when he couldn’t contain his chuckle any longer. “I was going to ask ye if it were the fae again, but now I ken ye jest.”
“I do. Ye make it so easy,” he teased, a smile softening the harsh features of his handsome face. He lifted his shoulders and held his palms up. “It could be true, I suppose, though I have ne’er seen it happen to anyone I ken. But ye can ne’er be for certs what the fae will do.”
“Who really built these? And dinnae say the fae,” she warned, narrowing her eyes and pointing her finger at him.
“No one kens. These stones have been here long afore we e’er walked the land. Mayhap they were formed this way.”
She thought about what he’d said. The arrangement of the rocks was much too specific to have been done naturally. Nay. The rocks were placed in the order they were by man. Or the fae. She giggled. Now Rory was having her think of fae and their possibilities.
“What are ye laughing at?”
“I was only thinking aboot who could arrange the rocks in such a way. They’re massive and it would take a great feat to set them so. The fae came to mind.” She lifted her brow and waited for his reaction. She was not disappointed.
Rory threw his head back and laughed loudly. “See? Now we are thinking alike.” He walked to the other side of the standing stones and bent to the ground. “Look at these.”
Alana walked over to where he pointed. Rocks were stacked one on top of the other. The stack was nearly to her knee. “What are those?” She asked, fascinated.
“Rock cairns. A sign of remembrance for a loved one.”
“Why would it be by the standing stones? Mayhap someone did get lost by going through the stones. The cairn could be the family’s tribute to their long-lost loved one.”
“I dinnae—” Rory stopped when he saw the smile on her face. “Och, so this time ye jest.” He smiled, and his eyes danced brightly. “Ye catch on quickly.” He grasped her hand, and that familiar heat radiated through her palm and up her arm at his touch. She should pull away, but she didn’t.
“We need to get back on the trail.” He tugged her back toward where they had entered the trees. “We will pass another sight soon. I believe ye will like it.”
Rory couldn’t have been more right in his statement. After walking for some time, they came upon a ruined stone kirk. The old stone was bleached white from the sun, the surface smooth from the harsh Highland weather. Alana ran her fingers along the surface.
“There were many a handfasting ceremony held here. Not so much anymore, but there used to be. Ye could pick the wildflowers from the surrounding ground. Take a ribbon or a scarf and swear yer love to one another.”
Alana kept walking along the long wall of the chapel, her thoughtswandering. “Were they forced unions?”
Rory laughed and shook his head. “Nay, no’ in the least. These ceremonies were aught but forced. They were true love matches. One where they chose for themselves.”
She snapped her head to Rory. “By their own choice? No one making any demands of them?”
“Completely their own choice.” He came up beside her, standing so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his body, seeping into hers. “Sometimes without their family’s kenning.”
Her eyes lingered on his. How she wished she could make such a decision on her own. She would choose to participate in a handfasting ceremony. With someone that she loved and wanted to build a future with. Someone kind and loving that would give her many children and in turn would love those children as much as she did.
She wet her lips and watched Rory’s gaze track down to her lips afore raising and meeting hers again. Was he thinking the same thing?
A falcon screeched in the distance and broke the bond that had been building betwixt them.
“Love is really a choice here?” Alana asked, bewildered.
Rory nodded. “Aye, it always has been.”
She sighed, wishing that were the case within her own family.
The rest of the day’s trip was uneventful, and Alana was exhausted by the time they said their good nights over the flames on opposite sides of the fire. She found she enjoyed the nights much more when they slept close together. She felt safer. Protected. Would she feel the same way sleeping beside her future husband?
It saddened her that she didn’t think she would.
Dreams overtook Alana that night. Happy dreams that she didn’t want to wake up from. She dreamt of a life free from the duty of her family—one where she could choose her own husband—and she had. Rory sat on the side of a heather covered knoll and watched as Alana ran barefoot through the flowers. Her hair flowing loosely behind her.Her cheeks flushed with excitement. She was free. More free than she had ever felt in all her years. She collapsed beside Rory, breathing heavily as he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply, lowering her onto a flowery bed.
She woke on a sigh. Then remembered where she was and the situation she was in. She wanted to fall back asleep so she could experience her dream once again. But she could not. Just as she could not indulge her thoughts of Rory.
One thing was for certs, she was beginning to think, for the first time in her life, that her happiness was more important than her duty. Immediately, she felt guilty for harboring such thoughts. They went against everything that had been told to her about her responsibility to her family. To her clan. But she couldn’t help them.
