Page 36 of Highlander’s Hope

He had no idea what a healthy family looked like. Yeah, it was good he’d decided to never marry. What could he offer as a husband and father after what he’d seen in his childhood?

He remembered his own father vaguely. What did Konnor really know about him? His dad’s last words to Konnor were the brightest memory he had. Most of the time, his father had been deployed, and then he’d died, and it was Konnor and his mom against Jerry.

The taste of ash in his mouth, he limped into the courtyard. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Swords clashed against each other as a dozen or so men sparred on the sunlit, dirt-packed courtyard. The walls of the castle loomed in a granite square.

He saw Colin run towards Tamhas, who stopped training with another man and tousled the boy’s hair. Colin, his shoulders sagging, looked up at Tamhas. The two talked, and the man threw his head back, laughing with the boy.

Tamhas bent down, put his sword on the ground, and picked up a sparring stick. He took up a position, bending his knees and holding the sword at his right shoulder. With a chuckle, he nodded to Colin, who took the same position with his wooden sword. The two sparred, Tamhas crying out commands and encouragements to Colin. A perfect picture of a father-son relationship.

Konnor swallowed the bitterness in his mouth. Tamhas should be with Marjorie. He knew her history and clearly cared about her and Colin. He could protect them. He knew the rules of this medieval world.

What was Konnor even doing here? He was in over his head, pretending, lying to himself that he could protect a mother and her son against an army. She clearly had people who could do it much better than him.

The sense of helplessness he knew and hated took over his body. The helplessness he’d been fighting against his whole life. The helplessness he’d thought had disappeared when Jerry died.

No. Konnor wouldn’t let himself be like that. He was a Marine. He fought terrorists and pirates and took bullets and fought for his country. The whole reason he’d joined the military was to protect others like he wished he could’ve shielded himself and his mother. Could he keep a woman and her son safe?

He didn’t know. But seeing Colin brought out the roaring, sucking darkness within him that he had locked away. Every day that he’d served in the Marines had put lock after lock and bolt after bolt over it.

All he knew was he’d rather die than let harm come to Marjorie or Colin. And that meant he needed to put his self-doubt aside and get to work.

Chapter 15

The next morning, Konnor’s ankle felt even better as he went down to the great hall for porridge. Isbeil had looked at it last night and said it was healing better than she’d expected. Because his cargo pants were dusty and dirty, and his T-shirt reeked of sweat, he asked for some fresh clothes before he went for a swim in the loch, hoping it would be a good enough replacement for a shower.

Dressed in breeches and a long, belted linen tunic that reached to his knees, he felt like he’d put on a costume for a historical movie set, except there were no cameras and no director. He kept his comfortable hiking shoes on. He was the only one who didn’t wear pointy medieval shoes. Thank fuck for that.

Two couples of men sparred against each other with swords in one corner of the courtyard. A rhythmic tong-tong-tong came from the smithy, which was in another corner of the courtyard. A donkey pulled a cart full of rocks through the open gates, its large, wooden wheels squeaking lamentably. In another corner, men were constructing what looked like a sawbuck, a simple wooden construction with planks hammered in the form of an “X” at each end and joined by a large log at the intersections. They’d use it to hold wood while it was cut into pieces.

As he approached the great hall, Marjorie came through the doors. He shouldn’t be surprised she could make such a simple act of walking sexy, but she did. Her hips moved under her tunic in a graceful, cat-like motion. Unlike female servants he’d seen walking about, Marjorie wore men’s clothes: a tunic and breeches similar to those that hugged his muscled legs. But on Marjorie, they hung like harem pants. Unlike any women he’d seen, she also had a sword on her belt. Her hair was up in a braid that lay over her shoulder and chest. Dark locks framed her face and waved in the wind.

When their eyes met, her red lips parted, and small expression of joy flashed across her face. She came to stop a step or so in front of him, and her herbal, berry scent reached him. Was she blushing? The thought spread warmth in his chest. He itched to brush her flushed cheek with his knuckles. In the dim light of a cloudy day, her skin glowed like polished stone against her dark hair. If Snow White existed, she’d look like Marjorie. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

They stared at each other for a moment or so, and he felt a stupid grin spread on his face.

“Hey,” he said.

“Good day to ye, Konnor.” She nodded a little and bit her lip, as though to stop a smile from blossoming on her face. She looked him over. “Are ye feeling better?”

He lifted his ankle and moved his foot. There was pain, but he’d had much worse than that. He chuckled. “I’ll live.”

“Good. Do ye think ye can manage a sword-fighting lesson today?”

“Sure.”

She beamed. “Then please break yer fast and then come join me here when ye’re ready.” She walked away from him towards the sparring men.

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

She looked back. “Ye keep saying that, but ye must tell me what ye mean by this one of these days.”

Konnor didn’t think he’d ever wolfed down a meal this fast. He shoved spoonfuls of tasteless porridge into his mouth. The hall was quite empty, but the men who were eating threw curious glances at him. A servant girl he hadn’t seen in the castle before stopped to chat with him, but he managed to get out of her curious questions with one-word answers. He just wanted to be done with food and go to wherever Marjorie was.

He went out into the cloudy day and made his way straight to Marjorie. She stood talking to Tamhas two long, round sticks in her hands that she put against the ground like ski poles.

Tamhas loomed over her, a wry smile on his face that Konnor knew right away was the smile of a man who was attracted to the woman he was talking to. He didn’t like that one bit. A stab of jealousy in his gut made him want to punch the man in the face. But he had no right to do that. She wasn’t his. He’d be gone soon anyway. She’d be better off with a man from her time.

As Konnor walked, her sweet voice reached his ears, resonating straight in his chest like the vibration of a tuning fork. She caught his gaze, and everything in his life began making sense again.