Part 37 (1/2)

”Paddy, I am. Me boy is Flynn.” They chatted amiably about crops and fisheries, little of which Gaelan knew, whilst Paddy whittled on a branch, obvious to Gaelan he was cleaning it for an arrow.

”I'm searching for a woman.”

Paddy jerked a look at him, his eyes narrowing.

”She may have been injured.”

”What would this la.s.s be to you?” Paddy kept working his knife, disinterested.

Gaelan didn't know if telling them they were husband and wife would be helpful right now. ”She is my betrothed.”

”She run from you?” Paddy's eyes thinned. ”You the kind to beat women?”

Gaelan scowled. ”Of course not. What woman would survive?” He put up his hands, palm out. ”Have you seen her? She is rather tall, dark red hair, green-blue eyes, with a bit of yellow in them, especially when she's in a temper and-”

Paddy's lips curved in a slow smile and he patted his uninjured shoulder. ”You're fair well tucked and put away with her, aren't you, lad?”

Gaelan's heart slammed against the wall of his chest. ”Have you?”

Paddy's nod indicated somewhere beyond him. ”You mean looking like that one?”

Gaelan leapt to his feet and turned. ”Siobhan.”

Far down the road she walked, leaning on a dark-haired woman, and he wanted to shout for the sheer joy of finding her alive, yet his throat closed over with heart-ripping emotion. All he could do was stare. Sweet Jesu, what had the killer done to her? Her steps were shaky and slow, her gaze on her feet. Her hair, oh, G.o.d above, that glorious hair, was unbound and wild with curls, yet naught could hide the blackened bruises on her temple, throat and chin. Nor the angry cuts along her jaw.

”I have prayed and searched...” he said aloud without realizing it and took several steps, his relief so tremendous his legs nearly folded beneath him. ”Siobhan!”

Her head jerked up. ”Gaelan.” Her smile blinded, quick tears blooming. ”Oh, Gaelan!” She s.h.i.+fted away from the woman and Gaelan rushed to her as she staggered into his arms. They clasped tightly, and for a moment they simply held each other, Gaelan's face buried in her cloud of hair, hers snug in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

”Oh my love, my princess,” he choked, and Siobhan heard days of suffering, of not knowing if she lived, fracture through his deep voice.

”All will be well now, my husband, shhh.”

He met her gaze, raw agony shaping his expression as his gaze slipped over her battered face. ”G.o.d above,” he moaned miserably. ”Look at you.” His trembling hand hovered near her wounded jaw and he feared to touch and harm her more.

Yet she pressed his palm to her face. ”'Tis not so bad,” she whispered, her lips quivering as she gazed into his dark soulful eyes, his tears cutting her to the quick. ”I have truly missed you, my love.”

”Me too, oh, me too. Oh, G.o.d, you cannot imagine-sweet Mary, Siobhan”-he paused to tenderly press his lips to hers-”I thought I'd lost you forever.”

”Nay, nay,” she soothed, swiping at his tears whilst more fell from her own eyes. ”I never doubted that you would find me. Never. I simply waited until you did.”

Her absolute faith unmanned him and he moaned, holding her gently when he wanted to crush her, clinging to her and shedding the torturous place he'd lived in for days with each pa.s.sing moment. He chanted her name, over and over, wanting only to feel her heart beat strongly against his and tell him, he too now lived again. And in the center of the little hamlet, the villagers looking on as he tipped her face to the sun and kissed her bruises and cuts, apologizing for not protecting her from this horror.

”'Tis not you fault; don't be taking the blame,” she scolded softly and, curling her hand behind his neck, she brought him to her mouth. ”I love you,” she whispered against his lips, then kissed him.

He moaned, sinking into her taste, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to privacy.

”I guess that means she's your woman,” Paddy said as they pa.s.sed.

Gaelan drew back enough to say, ”She is more than that.” He could not take his eyes off her. ”She's the center of my soul.”

”And his wife,” Siobhan added happily, her arms looped around his neck. ”You needn't head into the forest, Gaelan.”

He stopped, a little frown marring his brow.

”I have a cottage.” She grinned. ”And a bed.”

Chapter 27.

Between kisses, he spoke of his love, their son and his brave little heart. In the low-slung cottage, Gaelan laid her to the bed of furs, kissing her as he impatiently stripped off her clothing.

”Gaelan.”

”I want to see what this b.a.s.t.a.r.d did to you.” He stilled suddenly, meeting her gaze. ”Who was it?”

”I didn't see his face. 'Twas too dark, and he was hooded.”

Disappointment made his voice harsh. ”Even then he hides like a coward.” In one motion, he pulled off her plain dress and s.h.i.+ft, his gaze raking her body as he sat on the side of the bed. Sympathy swept him and he moaned, bending to press a kiss to her bruised shoulder, her ribs.

She sank her fingers into his hair, loving the feel of his mouth on her skin. ”I'm a bit sore in other spots too, husband.”

His gaze flashed to her, his smile slow and seductive. ”Here?” His tongue snaked across her nipple and she gasped, arching, offering, then hurriedly unfastened his belt, letting the sword drop, before helping him off with his s.h.i.+rt.

At the sight of his wound, she inhaled, covering it as she sat up. ”Why didn't you tell me?”

”Because 'twas unimportant.” He ducked, taking her nipple into his mouth and loving her soft sighs.

”'Twill become infected.”

”'Tis a price, for I want you badly.” He laved and tasted instead, ignoring her pleas to let her tend him and dragging his mouth over her soft belly.

”Oh, for the love of Michael, Gaelan, cease!” she said, pus.h.i.+ng him back.

He eyed her. ”You will not let this rest, will you?” Her look said he was silly to even ask as she gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed. ”Who attacked you?” She slipped on her s.h.i.+ft, and as he told her about the men on the moors, his gaze followed her as she bustled about the little hut, gathering cloths, a blade, and herbs, then set them on the table and prepared her cures, darting to the fire for water. Gaelan's attention was so fixed on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggling beneath the thin cloth that he didn't hear her.

”Gaelan? You think 'twas Fenian?”

”Aye, even if you do not.”

She smiled. He could read her so well.

”'Twas the man in the glen with Rhiannon. I swear he was more willing to die than fight.”

She stilled for a second, chewing her lower lip, then said, ”Mayhaps they know you will catch them.”