The Condemned Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 2)

“Nolan took his leave from us early,” Iver said. “But he was still well into his cups, so there is no telling if he stopped to rest and woke at night. But there was no full moon that night.”

Annis would question Nolan’s tale from all she’d been hearing if she didn’t have proof. She had gotten a message from the witch. A message Nolan had kept hidden from everyone.

“I would not advise traveling the path in the evening. Between the dark and the mist, you would not be able to see a thing,” Iver cautioned.

“The mist is heavy at night?” Annis asked.

“At the foot of the hills it is. No one goes near it then,” Iver confirmed.

“Nay,” Brogan said when Annis turned to him. “We will not go at night when it will do no good. You won’t be able to see anything and that can prove dangerous.”

Annis did not argue. She would revisit it if necessary. “As you say, Lord Brogan.”

Whenever she addressed him formally, he knew she had something brewing in that mind of hers and he had to be careful—though cautious was more like it.

“I am going to hunt, and you are going to stay here and show how a sturdy food shed is built,” Brogan said.

“Aye, I am,” Annis said with joy, rubbing her hands together, eager to start. She needed a distraction and constructing something, anything, always helped empty her mind and allowed for new thought and new ideas, to enter.

Brogan left with two men to hunt, and she had four men, including Iver, to help with the building. While the men weren’t old, they also weren’t young, and the years of living poorly had taken its toll on them. They did not have the strength they once had, which meant the building would go much slower than she hoped it would. It also meant that if Brogan did not get help with constructing sturdy dwellings before the winter hit, the small group would suffer and some would die.

Clearing the area of land went smoothly enough. Annis was surprised there were no complaints from the men when she instructed them or offered advice when placing the stone. They even watched with interest when she demonstrated how to shape some of the stones to fit more tightly together.

Una joined in to help. Her young age and good weight made carrying the stones easier for her than the older men, and she did so with a smile. Annis understood that for the first time in years, Una saw promise for a future and she was eager to participate in it.

Annis gave thought to something similar. She imagined rebuilding the small village, designing it the way she believed it would work best. And with no one but her there with the knowledge to do such a thing, she could take charge of it all. It was as if she was watching her dream come true. Elysia could come live here with Saber, and hopefully there would be a way for Bliss to join them. Here they could have a future.

“You dream awake.”

Annis jumped, not having heard Brogan come up beside her.

“Aye, dreams,” she said, thinking how she could possibly make her dreams come to pass. “You are done hunting already?”

“It has been hours, Annis, and I think your crew grows tired and hungry,” Brogan said with a nod toward the men still working, though having slowed down.

The fatigue on their faces had Annis hurrying toward them. “Enough for the day. Rest while we wait for the meat to cook.”

The men nodded eagerly and walked off, smiling and talking.

She had not realized Una had left, seeing her at the cooking spits helping the other women roast the meat.

“Sit with me,” Brogan said, stretching his hand out to her, and she took hold of it. It pleased him that she hadn’t hesitated, she simply grasped hold of his offered hand as if it was the most natural thing to do. That she was accustomed to it. That she felt comfortable doing so.

He walked with her to sit by one of the fires that sat alone and neglected, the women busy tending the fires that cooked the meats and most of the men gathered around them to talk after a day of work.

He stoked the fire after they sat, its warmth reaching out to wrap around them.

“What was in your thoughts?” he asked.

“A dream I have long had,” she admitted, the idea still nagging at her.

“Tell me about it,” he urged.

He seemed genuinely interested, but once he heard—she spoke her thought. “You will think me foolish.”

“I cannot say that I do not think you foolish at times, but dreams are different—dreams are meant to be enjoyed foolish or not. Tell me.”

She had never thought of dreams that way, but it made sense and she had longed to talk about her dream. And for some unknown reason she trusted Brogan.