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“I don’t need fate fightingmybattles for me.”
“Perhaps it’s notyourbattle to fight, buthers.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Right now I battle to keep my eyes open. I must sleep.”
“Surrender to sleep,” he urged, and wrapped himself more snugly around her.
“And will you surrender to fate?”
Trey waited and let sleep claim her so he wouldn’t have to answer. He was a Highlander warrior who fought for the true king of Scotland. Surrendering was not in his blood; he would fight to the death.
And someday he would find and kill the man or men who took Leora from him.
Bliss walked alongside Mary, her steps filled with strength that Bliss lacked. She hadn’t been surprised at the woman’s quick recovery. As soon as she had started to heal her, Bliss had felt her determination to get well and protect her family. While it had taken more of her strength than usual, it hadn’t been difficult. Mary’s courage had helped tremendously.
“He will be a good da,” Mary said, with a nod to Trey.
Bliss smiled. Trey walked ahead of them, with Allena perched on his broad shoulders. At first she had been apprehensive about it, but he had cajoled her into it, and now, after traveling over an hour, she giggled with delight.
“Aye, he will make a good da,” Bliss agreed and couldn’t help but think of having children with him. A daughter who would have her abilities or perhaps a son who would? A large brood they would have for she doubted she would be able to keep her hands off him. The urge to make love with him never left her, and she worried that it never would, or perhaps the worry was that they would never have the chance to make love.
Fate had predicted otherwise, and she should not doubt fate, so why worry? Or was her worry that they would make love, for then it would seal their vows and it would be that much harder to end their marriage.
Why did she continue to think their marriage would end? Her knowing had not indicated it would, yet she had this nagging doubt. What caused it? Could it have something to do with the way the blond woman haunted in images and dreams?
She felt a catch to her chest. It was time to admit that she knew the identity of the woman in her visions. She had realized who the woman was when she had insisted that Trey belonged to her. It was Leora.
The only thing she couldn’t understand was why, with Leora dead, she fought for Trey?
She had slept fitfully last night, thanks to Leora, though she had been grateful she had not gotten stuck in her dreams. The woman would simply not leave her alone. She was either begging for help or warning Bliss that Trey belonged to her and that Bliss could not have him.
She wondered if perhaps it was Trey who kept her close in death, refusing to release her and let her rest in peace.
“You are lucky to have such a good man,” Mary said. “My Thomas is a good man and a good da.” She got misty-eyed. “The girls so miss their da.”
Bliss got a sudden image of the injured farmers they had helped. There had been one man who had been seriously injured with a wound to his side. She had feared he wouldn’t make it, but he had fought hard. He had been determined to live. It would take time, but Bliss knew that he would heal.
“Thomas does not have the fine features of your man,” Mary said. “But he is handsome to me just the same. He stands only a head over me and is heavy with muscle.” She laughed. “He often hoists a girl up in each arm, and they squeal with delight as he kisses their cheeks repeatedly.”
“By any chance had he suffered a broken nose one time?” Bliss asked.
Mary’s eyes popped wide. “How did you know that?”
“I wondered because Trey and I came across a group of farmers who had been abandoned by the soldiers because of their injuries. There was a man among them who is similar in features as you have described, and I wondered ...”
“My Thomas? You saw my Thomas? Did he not tell you his name? He would—” She gasped. “He’s hurt and cannot speak?”
“This man suffered a wound to his side that in time will heal, but he was not well enough to tell me who he was.”
Mary sighed with relief. “My Thomas would have been wearing gray leggings and a brown tunic with a gray shirt, the cuffs frayed. His right ear would have a chunk missing from it, an accident when he was but a lad.”
Bliss nodded. “That sounds like the man I tended.”
“Where is he now?”
“I sent the farmers to my people ... the Picts. They will look after them until they can be moved to the MacAlpin village.”
Mary frowned, and Bliss knew why. She was torn between going to help her husband and seeing to her daughter.
Bliss reached out and took hold of her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you all will be reunited very soon.”
