The Highlander's Bride(67)

Cullen wanted to stand here and watch him sleep, watch him breathe, watch him wake ready and eager for his da. He pried himself away from the cradle, sneaking one last look before slipping out the door.

“He’ll be fine here with us until you’re ready to make it known he’s yours and Sara’s son,” Shamus said when Cullen approached the three at the table outside.

“I appreciate all you’ve done,” Cullen said, holding his hand out to Sara. “I’d like to be in the laird’s good graces before we even consider telling him of Alexander, though I hope to see my son often.”

It was a lie, though a good enough excuse. He didn’t plan to tell anyone anything; he’d simply disappear. It troubled him that Sara would be left with the aftermath, but she had repeatedly assured him she had gotten what she wanted—freedom from a forced marriage.

“Good idea, and you’re welcome here anytime,” Shamus said.

Parting greetings were exchanged, then Cullen and Sara were on their way.

“We need to keep a good pace if we hope to reach the keep before nightfall,” Cullen said, and Sara agreed with a nod.

Cullen was glad the hurried pace left no room for them to talk. His mind couldn’t focus on anything but his son and the torment it caused him to leave him behind even though he knew he’d be safe.

He had just gotten to hold him, had begun to know him, and then had to leave him. He knew it was right to leave him there, but it didn’t make it any easier. He simply wanted his son in his arms for now and always. He had thought the ache from Alaina’s loss was painful, but this cut at his gut. His son was so small, so trusting, so vulnerable, and as his father, he was intent on protecting him and keeping him safe.

It was his job, his duty, his promise, but they meant little compared to his love for his son. He had never imagined the depth of love he would feel. It went so deep, felt so strong, tugged so hard at his heart that he feared it might kill him. Then he realized it had the opposite affect. It made him stronger. His son had actually made him more of a man.

He had Sara to thank for it all, and though he’d thanked her throughout the day, he felt his words were inadequate. He owed her and he would repay her; arguing though she would, he would see it done.

Then he’d be on his way to his new home with his son.





They entered the village as night fell over the land, and after seeing to their horses, walked hand in hand into the great hall. Sara’s father was waiting.

“We’ll have that talk now, lass,” he ordered, and a few of his men at the table quickly vacated their seats.

Cullen held her hand firmly. “Not tonight,” he said. “Sara’s too tired.”

“I’ve waited,” McHern said, annoyed, and shot Sara a heated glare. “Why did you linger at Teresa’s when I told you I wanted to talk with you?”

Cullen tugged her hand to keep her quiet and answered. “With all respect, Laird McHern, Sara no longer answers to you.”

McHern pounded the table once, creaking the wood. “Damn, son, I like you.”

“Good, then you’ll see Sara tomorrow—”

“At breakfast,” McHern said.

“Sara will be sleeping late, she’s tired. You’ll see her after our hunt. Good night,” he said, and scooped Sara up in his arms to walk out of the great hall to the sound of McHern laughing.

“You can put me down,” Sara said once they were out of sight and earshot.

“Don’t want to. You feel good in my arms.”

“I’m too heavy for you to carry all the way up the stairs,” she argued.

He laughed. “You wound my pride, wife.”

“I’m large for a woman.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not large, you’re just right.” He kissed her cheek.

“If I did not know you to be truthful, I would think you say the words just to please me.”

He shoved the door to their bedchamber open with his shoulder. “Then it is good that you know me as a man of his word.”

He released her to stand, though he drew her into his arms. She, however, splayed her hands over his chest to push away from him.

“A kiss, just a kiss,” he urged, reaching out for her.

She shook her head and moved away from him. “Not a good idea.”

“Why?” he asked softly, and pursued her with cautious steps.

She moved closer to the fireplace, away from the bed. “You were my champion just now. No one has ever stood for me as you just did.” She drew a deep breath and placed a hand to her chest. “You tempt my heart.”

“Is that so bad?” he asked, maneuvering closer, though slowly, not wanting her to flee from him.