The Highlander's Bride(33)

“We’ll replenish our food supply and be on our way,” he said.

She nodded her agreement, thinking it best they didn’t linger and be remembered, just in case someone searched for them.

When the path opened wide, Cullen brought his horse to trod alongside her mare.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Sara understood he meant it as an apology, but it didn’t ease her pain. “You spoke the truth. I prefer it to a lie.” Even though in the end both could cause suffering. Where, then, was the line drawn?

“It was unkind of me.”

“True, but the truth is often unkind.” And she didn’t want to feel its sting anymore. It had been with her long enough, his words replaying in her mind until she had felt moved to tears. She had been rejected enough. Why had she let one more rejection bother her?

“It’s no excuse,” he said gently.

True as that might be, it had already consumed far too much of her thoughts, leaving her vulnerable, which she didn’t like. It was time to redirect her strength. “There is a farm just outside the market where we can leave the horses under safe keeping, for a price, of course.”

Cullen nodded. “Good idea, and be sure to stay close to me. I don’t want us separating.”

“At least not yet,” she purposely reminded him.

She knew her intentional barb had hit its mark when he winced.

They traveled on in silence, and for once she was comfortable with it. Enough had been said. Now was the time to move on toward the end of their bargain and the reuniting of father and son.





A tear formed in the old farmer’s eye when Sara watched him stare at the generous amount of coins Cullen deposited in his gnarled hand as payment for keeping their horses safe.

“We’ll be no more than a couple of hours,” Cullen told him.

“Take what time you need,” the old man said on a choked cough. “Your horses are safe with me. I give you my word.”

That was all most Scotsmen had left, their word, their honor, and it was something that would never be taken from them. Sara understood since it meant the same to her. She had given her word once, and she intended to keep it, no matter what it cost her.

They walked hand and hand into the market, Sara wearing a bright smile and a wool shawl, since the day had grown sunny, a hint of warmth in the air. Winter and spring were at odds, one refusing to let go, the other pushing to take over.

Either way, it didn’t matter. She felt a jolt of joy at the sights and sounds of the busy market. It had been too long since she was here, the last time with her father, though she’d spent a good portion of the time on her own and had loved it.

“Stay close,” Cullen whispered in her ear as he gave her cheek a peck.

She would have liked to believe he meant to keep her safe, and of course he did, but not because he was a concerned husband. He couldn’t chance anything happening to her, for then he’d never be able to find his son.

She took firm hold of his arm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“That you’re not,” he said, and dragged her over to a table loaded with smoked fish.

They nibbled, ate, and talked their way through the market, all the while keeping watchful eyes on their surroundings. A few soldiers meandered throughout but paid no heed to a loving couple. They were more interested in the lone females, especially the ones willing to sell their wares.

Their purchases mounted, mostly foodstuff, though Cullen stopped and convinced an old man whittling a horse to let him purchase it. The man thought him daft, but the coin convinced him he was serious, and Cullen grinned with pride when he held it out to Sara.

“For my son.”

Sara smiled and strolled on.

She lingered at a table heavy with silks and linens, wishing she could bring a gift to her sister Teresa, especially a deep blue silk. The color would look perfect on her, Teresa being much fairer, with sun-colored hair and half her size.

“You like that?” Cullen asked, slipping his arm around her waist.

“It’s perfect for my sister. I would love to bring a gift to her.”

“I’ll buy it for you.”

“I’ll repay you,” she said quickly.

“No need,” he said, and bartered with the merchant for a fair price.

She was about to thank him when he took hold of her hand and dragged her across the narrow aisle to a market stall protected with a makeshift canopy and concealed by a crowd of people.

He grinned. “Sweet cakes.”

They waited, and when finally reaching the front of the line, Cullen purchased four of the round sticky cakes, devouring one in seconds after handing one to Sara.

She nibbled at hers, though it was a fast nibble since the cake was simply scrumptious and hard to resist. They both ate the remaining two in no time, standing off to the side in between two stalls where they wouldn’t be disturbed or disturb others. The one stall had fresh baked breads from dark to light to crusty and soft.