Under the Highlander's Spell(39)

“Cavan had a wicked imagination and would create a world where we were mighty warriors fighting hordes of all manner of imaginable enemies. Cavan would have us gather fallen branches and use them as weapons. He told me that we must always be prepared. One day while I was supposed to be gathering branches, I got lost in my own imaginary world and started tracking a hare. Slow and steady the little beast moved, and I inched right along with it, thinking it an enemy I had to keep in my sights.

“I lost track of time while tracking the hare and didn’t bother to gather any weapons when I heard Cavan yelling. I ran to him and stared in horror as he tried to fight off a wild dog with what sticks he had. He saw me and called out for me to use my weapons. I had none, and Cavan saw that.”

Artair shook his head. “Cavan continued to battle, and after I finally got my wits about me, I picked up stones and started throwing them at the dog. Together we chased him off. Cavan never asked me why I didn’t have any weapons. Instead, he claimed me a brave warrior.

“I did not feel like one. I felt ashamed that I had not followed his orders. I wasn’t prepared to help him defend against an enemy.”

“And you never told him that you were tracking a hare instead of gathering weapons,” she said.

“I was too ashamed and I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me, so I never told him the truth.”

“But he wasn’t disappointed, for you didn’t fail him. You came to his aid and used weapons at hand. Your brother spoke the truth when he claimed you were a brave warrior.”

“Perhaps, but as I said, I didn’t feel like one, and from that day on I made certain I was always prepared.” He looked at her then. “Now it’s your turn to tell me a secret.”

Zia sipped at the brew and wrinkled her nose.

“Too many to choose from?” he teased.

“No, I want to share a special secret with you. One I have kept close to my heart.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’d like that, and know that your secret will always be safe with me.”

“I know, or else I would never chance sharing it with you.”

It pleased him that her trust in him was growing stronger. It was a good sign, for trust was important to a marriage, and the more he got to know Zia, the more he realized that she would make him a truly good wife.

Zia began. “There was this place on the hillside I liked to go to pick flowers and just sit and watch the sky. I loved the clouds and the way they would float by in all different shapes. I would talk to them, ask them where they were going and make up answers.

“One day while talking to the clouds, I suddenly got an idea. I asked them if they would go find my father and bring him to me. I told them that I missed him, though I had never met him, and I was sure that he must miss me. I was only five that first time I asked, but I continued asking and only recently stopped.”

She handed the empty mug to him. “That was delicious. Could I have another?”

He took the mug from her and raised their joined hands to gently kiss her fingers. “You never shared this with your grandmother?”

She shook her head. “I think I was afraid she would tell me that it was a useless task, that my father was never returning. And as a young child I didn’t want to think that I had a father who not only didn’t want me, but didn’t love me.”

He felt her ache, her emptiness, and the fear that goes with not knowing where a loved one was or if that loved one was all right. Ronan’s disappearance had taken its toll on him and his family, and it was drawing close to two years since he’d been gone. He couldn’t imagine what the pain was like for a child who longed to know her father.

“I will help you find him,” Artair said.

“Perhaps someday,” she said with a sad smile.

Artair stood, kissing her fingers one more time before releasing her hand and walking over to the hearth to prepare another mug of tea for her. “Whenever you’re ready, you just say the word and I will find him.”

“You sound so confident that you could,” she said, surprised.

“Just as I search tenaciously for my brother, I would search the same for your father.”

“That is generous of you. But why? You barely know me.”

“Barely know you?” he said in feigned surprise. “We just shared intimate secrets no one else knows about us. I’d say that makes us at least best friends.”

Her face lighted with joy. “I’d love to be best friends. You share everything with your best friend.”

He handed her the steaming mug. “I want you to share everything with me, and I will do the same.”