Page 24 of Taming the Highland Beauty

The man’s face fell, but there was understanding in his eyes. “I regret my actions. I’ll sacrifice my own life tae ye right here and now if ye’ll help my child.” The dark-haired man stepped forward, placing the tip of Callum’s sword against his chest.

Gille stepped around Callum. “There will be no need for sacrifice. If you promise we will be safe if we go with you, that will be sufficient.”

“I promise ye’ll be safe,” the man said in a ragged voice.

Callum’s body stiffened. “Gille—”

“A child’s life is at stake.”

Callum sheathed his sword and nodded. “I will be watching you very closely,” he warned the man.

“The name is Declan,” the man said. His eyes, once filled with a fierce determination, were now pools of sorrow.

Compassion replaced hesitation as Gille stepped forward. “Lead the way.”

The single flame of the lantern illuminated their way as they hurried towards the village. The forest, though still bearing the scars of the fire, seemed to respect their newfound resolve. The trees parted as if yielding to an unseen force, their skeletal branches forming a protective canopy above them.

When they finally reached the village, it was bathed in torchlight, casting long shadows over the ground as they made their way to Declan’s home. As they stopped at the door, Gille’s heart pounded in her chest.

The door creaked open, revealing the young girl who was once a bundle of boundless energy and questions, lying motionless on a makeshift bed. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow.

Without a word, Gille knelt beside the child. Her hands hovered over the girl, a soft glow emanating from her palms. Gille closed her eyes and concentrated on pouring her life force into the child as she had with the fawn earlier that day.

Gille could feel Callum beside her. His presence was a welcome balm as her body grew heavy and weak. After what felt like hours, Gille felt a change in the child, a flicker of energy returning. The child’s breathing had deepened, her colour coming back. Hope, like a fragile flower, bloomed in Declan’s eyes. When the little girl finally opened her eyes, a weak smile graced her lips.

“Praise the saints!” Declan cried as he dropped to his knees beside his daughter. “Thank ye, Gille. Thank ye from the bottom of my heart. She’s all I’ve got in this world.”

Gille collapsed as a wave of exhaustion came over her. Callum caught her before she fully fell, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her tight against his chest. As he held her, a sense of peace washed over Gille. She had saved a life, but the greater battle was far from over. The curse still lingered, a dark shadow hanging over her own future. And they had lost two days in the process.

“Do not worry,” Callum said as though reading her thoughts. “We are close to finding the beech tree. Regain your strength and we will continue our search.”

Declan placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead then stood, moving to the hearth. He retrieved a wooden mug, and dipping a ladle into a cauldron that hung above the fire, he poured liquid into the mug then offered it to Gille. “Drink this. The bone broth will help tae revive ye.”

Callum accepted the mug and held it up to Gille’s lips. The rich broth warmed her as she took tentative sips.

Declan helped his daughter into a sitting position before he filled another mug for her to drink. “Ye are lookin’ fer a beech tree?”

Gille nodded. “One with a hollowed-out trunk.”

“I know a few of those in the forest. I might be able tae help ye find the one ye’re looking for. ’Tis the least I can do fer saving my daughter.”

Callum eyed Declan warily. “How did you go from wanting to possess Gille for her magic, to burning down the forest, and now wanting to help her?”

Declan’s face filled with regret. “I was a fool, thinking only of the moment. The laird, yer brother, helped us all see the error of our ways. When we didn’t get what we wanted, we turned tae the British soldiers. Our blind ambition may have caused more problems fer ourselves and all Scottish people.”

A heavy silence hung between them, until Declan’s eyes filled with a newfound resolve. “I have made a grave mistake,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “But I vow, from this moment forward, tae rectify my wrongs.”

Callum, his face etched with scepticism, regarded Declan warily. “Your words are hollow, Declan. Actions speak louder than words.”

Gille set down her empty mug and shifted her gaze between the two men. “Perhaps we can find a way to move forward together,” she suggested, her voice stronger now. She tried to stand, but her legs were not quite ready to support her yet.

Declan’s gaze met Callum’s. “Stay here tonight, rest; then at daybreak, I’ll guide ye tae the trees.”

Gille searched Callum’s face for a sign of acceptance, and when she saw what she needed to see, she nodded. “Thank you, Declan, for your hospitality.”

The man motioned to a doorway off the front room. “The two of ye take my bed fer tonight. I wish tae remain here with my daughter.”

“That is not necessary—” Gille’s objection died in her throat as Callum lifted her into his arms.