Part 28 (1/2)
So they rode in silence.
Long after midnight, and once the rain had ceased to fall, Maggie began to doze in the saddle.
Braden paused as he saw her nodding off. Afraid she might fall and hurt herself, he pulled her into his own saddle.
She awoke with a start.
”Shhh,” he said. ”I didn't want you to fall. Go back to sleep.”
Instead of the argument he'd expected, she nodded once, rested her head against his chest and instantly renewed her sleeping.
Her trust amazed him. But not nearly as much as the strange tenderness he felt in his heart as he gazed down at her russet head leaning against his bare chest. Her breath tickled ever so slightly as she breathed against his shoulder. And it was all he could do not to cover her lips with his own and run his hand through her short curls.
His body roared to life, demanding her soft form.
For once, Braden took comfort in it. After what had transpired with Tara, he had begun to wonder foolishly if perhaps something were wrong with him. But the fire in his groin for her confirmed his earlier suspicion. It was Maggie he wanted. Maggie alone.
He shook his head.
Who would have ever thought that he, Braden MacAllister, would be pining away for plain little Maggie ingen Blar and her ugly shoes?
Marry her.
The words flitted across his mind so fast that he almost missed them. And for a minute, he allowed the thought to tempt him.
But it was impossible. He refused to marry a woman he might be in love with. 'Twould be suicide.
”What is on your mind?” Sin asked all of a sudden.
Startled, Braden looked up to see Sin turned around in the saddle, watching him. ”What's that?”
”You're looking a bit pensive back there and I was wondering what thought you had tormenting you.”
”Who says I'm being tormented?”
Sin reined his horse to where they could ride apace of each other. ”Oh, I don't know. Perhaps that death grip you have on Maggie and the way you're looking at her as if you can't decide whether to cradle her or to toss her from your horse.”
Braden hated the way Sin could read him so easily. ”That is one uncanny ability you have there, brother.
No wonder those English friends of yours swear you sold your soul to the devil.”
Sin looked at him stoically. ”A man has to have a soul before he can sell it.”
Braden grew quiet. There was a lot hidden in those words. Years of pain and suffering. His brother had lived through the worst life had to offer and his strength was amazing. But more than that, Braden felt guilty for it. The other lairds had sent their youngest sons as hostages to the English. And by rights it should have been him who suffered in Sin's stead.
If he lived to be a thousand years old, he would never come to terms with the fact that Sin had gone while he had stayed.
”Is there any way you will ever forgive my mother for what she did?” Braden asked at last.
Even in the dark, Braden could feel Sin's hatred. ”They tell me anything is possible. But since I can't forgive my own mother for what she did, why should I ever forgive yours?”
Braden said nothing. He remembered that fateful day every bit as well as Sin did. The day King David had come to their castle and demanded a son to help make peace with the English king after the war they had waged for northern England.
His father had turned a wary, thoughtful eye to each of his sons. The five of them had collectively held their breaths in fear, knowing one of them would have to go.
Lochlan had bravely taken a step forward when all of a sudden their mother grabbed him and pulled him back. She gathered her four sons to her side and left Sin standing alone. Isolated.
”You take a son of mine and I swear I'll kill myself,” she had said.
His father, who had loved her with all his being, had offered no argument. And to this day, Braden could still see the horrified look on Sin's face as he realized his father was about to betray him.
And why.
”Go ahead, old man,” Sin had snarled bravely, balling up his fists. ”Send the mongrel b.a.s.t.a.r.d back to England while you coddle your Scottish wh.o.r.e.”
Their father had answered Sin's angry words with a vicious backhand that had made the boy stagger.
”No son of mine insults my wife.”
”Then I'm no son of yours.” His eyes filled with rage and loathing, Sin had straightened from the blow that had left blood trailing down his face.
Then he had spat his blood at his father.
Their father had raked the blood off his face, his lips curled in disgust. ”You're nothing to me, boy,” he had said coldly.
The pain on Sin's face at that moment was forever etched in Braden's memory. ”Tell me something, old man, that I don't already know.”
King David's men had taken Sin then, and only Braden and his brothers had screamed out in protest.
His father had merely turned his back and called for their nurse to take them to their room.
Not once had his father looked back at Sin, or even mentioned his name. From that day forward, his father had lived as if Sin had never existed.
Braden had never forgiven his father for that.
And it had been on that day when his eldest brother had left that Braden had sworn never to fall in love.
He'd never allow a woman to mean more to him than his own blood. Never turn his back on a son because of a woman's vindictiveness.
It was for that reason alone he'd been careful over the years. Careful not to leave behind a child to suffer for his actions, for he knew of the nightmares Sin had lived through. And h.e.l.l would surely freeze before Braden allowed a child of his to suffer in such a manner.
Maggie mumbled in her sleep.
Braden cuddled her closer. She was such a mystery to him. That she would traverse this path for the sake of her brothers and the lives of the clansmen spoke a lot for her.
And he found himself wondering what choice she would have made in his mother's place. Would she have given up the child not hers, or would she have stood to defend all of them equally?