Page 59 of Only a Highlander Will Do

Her ploy to get the MacDonalds to open their gates had succeeded. And while Tormod had come away with a few wounds, he had not died as his dream had suggested he might. For that she would be forever grateful.

Also, not one single MacLeod warrior had died in the conflict. Despite the fact the fairies had not healed her father, they had honoured her request to keep most of those whom she loved safe.

The midday sun broke through the clouds overhead when they placed the final dirt atop her father’s grave. Tormod, Alastair, Orrick, Graeme, and Rowena stood beside Fiona, lending their support.

“Fiona.” The sound of a voice broke through her thoughts.

Rowena reached out and took Fiona’s hands in her own. “I take it you and your father had a difficult relationship.”

Fiona nodded. “Up until the end.”

Rowena’s gaze dropped to the grave at their feet. “There is something you should know. Your father saved me when one of the MacDonalds came to the dungeon intent on harming me. And again, when Alex came upon us trying to flee, your father put himself in harm’s way to spare me. If he had not, I might be the one whose grave you were digging.”

Tears pressed against the backs of Fiona’s eyes. “I’m glad there was good in him at the end, and that he helped you survive. I hope those actions help him find peace in the great beyond.”

“I’m certain they will.” Rowena squeezed Fiona’s fingers before releasing her hands, then she and the others moved away, leaving Fiona and Tormod alone.

Fiona stood at the gravesite, looking down at the freshly turned earth. “It seems right to leave him here, buried next to my mother. They will be the guardians of what remains of Ulster Castle in the years ahead.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Tormod asked, placing his arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his side.

Fiona cast one last glance at the gravesite. “There’s nothing anyone can do. He’s gone. Ulster is gone.” She gazed upon Tormod fully for the first time since they’d left Monkstadt behind and noted his clothes were still spattered with blood. The bandage she’d placed around the slash in his arm remained where she’d tied it. Dark shadows hovered beneath his eyes. He looked as tired and beaten down as she felt, and yet he was there beside her, supporting her in her time of need.

His brows bent inward and he gave a small shake of his head. “I am sorry I couldn’t stop Alex from killing your father.”

She shook her head. “Don’t blame yourself. That the MacDonalds did not kill him sooner was a miracle. At least I got to see him one last time. To be with him in the end.”

Fiona saw the shine of unshed tears in his eyes a moment before Tormod pulled her into his arms. He held her there for several long moments, as though nothing else in the world mattered. The chill that had come over her while witnessing her father’s death faded, replaced by Tormod’s warmth. After a while, he stepped back and with a finger against her chin, lifted her gaze to his. “Are you ready to go home?”

“I’m already home.”

He frowned. “I know how much you loved Ulster Castle.”

“Nay, Tormod.” She smiled up at him. “What I meant to say is that wherever you are, that’s where my home is.”

His eyes brightened as acceptance dawned. He held out his hand. “Then, will you come back to Dunvegan with me?”

Fiona stared at the calluses and silver-threaded scars that marked his palm. Strong and capable fingers waited patiently for her confirmation. And just like that, the tightness in her chest eased. With a hitch in her breath, she took his hand. “Aye, I’ll go with you.”

*

The pinkish-orange fingers of dusk streaked through the late evening sky as all those who’d left in the earliest hours of morning finally reached the gates of Dunvegan. Fiona was pleased when she saw Gwendolyn standing in the courtyard with Ginny, Mrs Honey, Mrs Bagley, and the Grey Lady beside her, ready to greet the ensemble as they dismounted.

At the sight of Rowena, Mrs Honey and Gwendolyn raced forward, enveloping the young woman in an embrace. “We are glad to see you returned safely to us,” Gwendolyn said.

Mrs Honey inspected Rowena from head to toe. “Aside from appearing like a bit of a fright, and smelling like ye rolled in dead fish, ye look well, my child.”

The Grey Lady came forward as well and enveloped her daughter in her mist. Dearest child, I was so worried. It was the closest thing to a hug her ghostly form could offer.

Rowena laughed. “I am home, and all is well. As much as I love all of you, I would desperately love a long, hot bath, and one of your apple tarts, Mrs Honey. Is that a possibility?”

The cook let out a squeal of delight. “Of course! Mrs Bagley and I will boil water for your bath and get started on those tarts right now. Tonight there will be tarts for everyone.” Finding comfort in the task of cooking for those she loved, Mrs Honey motioned for Mrs Bagley to join her as they headed back towards the keep and the kitchen below.

Tormod turned to Fiona. He cupped her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over the soft curves of her cheeks. “I fear I must leave you for a while to settle the horses. They deserve a rub-down and a hearty serving of oats for all their hard work. Will you meet me in the solar in an hour? There is so much we need to talk about.”

At Fiona’s nod, a grin lit up his face and brought out the dimple at the side of his cheek. “Then I will see you soon.”

Graeme came forward and took the reins from Tormod’s hands. “You do not need to care for the horses. Orrick and I can do that.” He pushed Tormod closer to Fiona. “Never put off what you should do in the moment.”