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“Enough.” Angus shook his head. “I daenae ever put me foot down as yer husband, because that’s nae the way I want us to be, but ye willnae push this, love. That’s all there is to be said about it.”
Melissa sniffed. “Aye, well ye can enjoy the silence of our cottage then and see if ye daenae feel mad with boredom by the time I come back.” She set off down the garden path, kicking at the weeds that protruded through the flagstones. At the gate, she tossed one last remark over her shoulder, “If I come back!”
Of course, she fully intended to return, and he probably knew that, but there might be creatures and vagabonds lurking in the nearby forest, looking for easy prey.
That would teach ye a lesson, she thought angrily, storming off toward the shadowy trees, forgetting that one must always be careful what they wished for.
Chapter 2
Watching his wife go, Angus knew he should run after her. Yet, after five years of loving her, from afar and then close up, he understood her temperaments and her moods intimately. She would not applaud him for intruding on whatever point she was hoping to make. Indeed, much like the ruined broth, she clearly wanted him to stew.
“It isnae because of ye bein’ a lass,” he muttered, eyeing the pot and wondering what to do with it. “It’s because I love ye.”
He groaned and crouched down to touch the cast iron, checking if it had cooled before he picked it up and took it back inside.
Setting the pot on the table, he sighed at the varnished wooden surface and traced his fingertips across it. How pleasant their afternoon might have been if he had just backed down, or if the broth had not spoiled.
I would protect ye, love. That’s why I cannae have ye hearin’ what soldiers and brutes talk about in the council chamber. He poured himself a cup of the cold, refreshing water that she must have drawn from the well earlier. It had been steeped with berries, to sweeten the taste.
“She prepared all me favorites,” he realized, “and I couldnae hold me tongue for a minute.”
Pacing back and forth as he drank the contents of the cup, he walked over to the cottage doorway and looked out. It was a bright, clear afternoon with nary a cloud in the sky and only a light breeze, but their corner of Scotland teetered on the brink between summer and autumn. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to golden and would start falling within a few weeks.
“She’ll come back if she’s cold, will she nae?” he asked a blackbird that hopped along the boundary fence of the aromatic, sprawling herb garden.
The bird cocked its head to one side, prompting Angus to laugh.
“Aye, ye’re right. I must have taken leave of me senses, to let her wander off without so much as a shawl. She willnae thank me for it.” Making his decision, he grabbed her cloak from the back of the cottage door and headed out.
Maybe there was still time to smooth things over, so their afternoon together was not entirely neglected.
* * *
“I ken it’s somewhere around here,” Melissa grumbled to herself, trying to spot the familiar landmark of the stream that cut through the woodland. If she followed the current, it would lead her right back to the cottage.
She had already been walking for what felt like an eternity, though it was actually no more than a couple of hours. Still, she figured it was enough of an absence for Angus to start feeling repentant about the argument.
Trying to retrace her steps, she found what appeared to be an old trail and realized where she had gone wrong. She must have diverted away from the main path without noticing, and now she was deep in undergrowth and vast oak trees, struggling to listen out for the telltale babble of rushing water.
“Ye could’ve followed me.” She stuffed her hands into her apron in an attempt to warm them up. “I ken ye’re angry and I’m angry, but what sort of husband lets his wife just walk off into the woods, eh?”
She did not know why she was speaking out loud when Angus was not there to feel the bite of her disappointment, but it made her feel better. Perhaps, in the future, she would share all of her gripes and ire with the trees instead of getting into meddlesome quarrels with her beloved.
We’ve never argued like that before. Her heart weighed heavy, dragged down by a different kind of regret.
“Och, Angus, where are ye?” she hissed, entirely done with being cross at him. She just wanted to feel the warmth of his arms around her again so they could apologize and move on.
A twig snapped somewhere nearby. Melissa’s head whipped around, her eyes frantically darting this way and that to figure out where the sound had come from, her heart leaping into her throat as panicked blood rushed through her ears, sounding like a stormy sea crashing against perilous cliffs.
This was a terrible idea, this was a terrible idea, this was a terrible idea, her mind repeated, as her heel caught a gnarled root, tripping her. Flailing her arms and slamming her other foot down into the ground for purchase, she managed to keep her balance. Her breaths, however, were short and sharp and uneven, heaving up through her dry throat.
A louder snap of a branch and the rustle of undergrowth jolted her heart violently, yet she could not find the source in the darkness. Deciding she had definitely had enough of being out in the forest alone, she turned on her heel and ran, not really knowing where she was going, but hoping that some sense of familiarity would guide her safely back to the cottage.
* * *
Angus cursed the dry weather for parching the earth, making it near impossible to spot footprints on the forest path.
“Why did ye have to run off like that, love?” he muttered, pausing to regain his bearings. She could not have gone far, yet he had been searching back and forth along the forest road for almost two hours already, with no sign of her.
