Page 32 of Highland Lords of War & Thunder: The Prequel

He got it.

Fay hugged him tightly, then stepped back and gave his chest a firm slap. “That is for staying away so long.”

Creagan rubbed the spot. “Again, you wound me, sweetheart.”

“Not nearly enough.”

He laughed and pulled her into another hug.

He had met Fay years ago, not long after she and her husband Tate had wed. She had gone to market one morning and would never have made it home if Creagan hadn't happened along the road at the right time. He'd seen her safely back to the farm, intending to leave as soon as he knew she was safe. Tate had insisted he stay for supper. Supper had somehow turned into three days.

Creagan had been returning ever since. He'd held Peter when the lad was barely hours old and Jennie when she was even younger, Tate placing the tiny bundle in his arms while Creagan protested that he knew nothing about bairns.

Apparently, that had not mattered.

“Where's Tate?” Creagan asked.

Fay's expression changed. “Where do you think?”

Creagan glanced toward the fields.

Fay sighed. “Trying to do the work of three men.”

Creagan smiled and shoved his sleeves higher on his arms. “Then it's fortunate I arrived.”

Later that evening, Creagan sat stretched out before the hearth, pleasantly full from a supper Fay insisted he hadn't eaten enough of despite the three helpings he'd managed.

Peter and Jennie had fought sleep as long as they could, both determined not to waste a moment of Creagan's visit. Eventually Fay had sent them off to bed with promises that Creagan would still be there come morning.

Tate sat across from him, his legs stretched toward the fire, a tankard resting against his stomach. The years had been good to his friend. Hard work had broadened his shoulders and added lines around his eyes, but he remained the same steady man Creagan had first met all those years ago.

Fay settled into the chair beside her husband and looked at Creagan.

He knew that look.

“Nay, I don’t want to hear it,” Creagan said, shaking his head.

“I haven't said anything yet,” Fay said innocently.

“You don't have to.”

Tate chuckled into his tankard.

Fay ignored them both. “It's time you stopped living on the road.”

Creagan sighed dramatically. “Here we go.”

Fay continued to have her say. “Sleeping beneath whatever roof will have you for a few nights or a few months before wandering off again.”

Creagan grinned. “I am a most welcome guest wherever I go.”

“I'm sure you are,” Fay said, then rolled her eyes. “Especially if the household has unmarried women.”

Tate laughed.

Creagan raised his tankard to Fay. “Jealousy does not become you, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes again. “You need a home.”