Pledged to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy 1)

“All is good. I’m off to get a brew Oria wants made,” Sara said, not breaking her fast stride.

Penn’s whole body deflated, his shoulders slumping as he turned an anxious look at his cottage.

Innis practically knocked Penn off his feet when he smacked him on the back. “She’ll be fine, lad. We men are made to plant the seed and the women are made to nurture and harvest it.” He gave a hardy laugh. “After that it’s anybody’s guess what you do with it.”

“You got that right,” Stuart said, joining in the laughter as he looked at his young son drawing with a stick in the dirt.

“And if you’re lucky,” Innis said with a wink. “You’ll get a wife who lets you plant your seed often.”

Stuart grinned wide. “I’m a lucky man.”

Innis grinned as well. “Five sons prove that I’m a lucky man.”

“I’m sure our chieftain is as well and we’ll be hearing about an heir to the Clan MacKinnon soon,” Stuart boasted with pride that they had a leader who would see that the Clan MacKinnon would live on.

It hit Royden then that he had an obligation to his clan to see that Oria got with child. His clansmen wanted to know that what their clan had endured had been worth it. That the lives lost and all the suffering hadn’t defeated the Clan MacKinnon. It had remained strong through it all and would rise once again a prominent and triumphant clan.

His da would expect him to tend to his obligations at all cost just as he had done when he’d been chieftain. Arran would expect it as well. And he had been seeing to his duties since his return home—all but one.

He joined Penn, his glance going to the cottage, his thoughts on his wife and how it would feel to make love with her. He turned away suddenly a memory rising to torment him. He could see it clearly as if he were there in the middle of it, reliving it all over again. He stood in a field, dead warriors all around him, blood covering him and dripping off his sword. And the odor, the horrible stench of battle that forever invaded his senses.

“Royden. Royden.”

He heard his name, but didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to be told it was time to collect the weapons from the dead and look into the lifeless faces of all those warriors who had fought so heroically.

“Royden, we need help with a heavy stone.”

He wanted to bless Stuart for pulling him out of the horrendous memory, and he turned.

Stuart nodded and kept his voice low. “The memories are the worst. They eat at your soul.”

Royden nodded, though wondered if he had a soul left.

The hut was half finished when the men stopped, hearing Penn’s name shouted.

Penn dropped the heavy stone he held, barely missing his foot, and ran. Royden followed at a slower pace. He changed his pace when he caught sight of his wife, her hair falling loose of its combs and the shine gone from her lovely eyes.

“Please. Please, I beg of you to tell me my wife and child are safe,” Penn pleaded when he looked upon Oria.

Oria smiled. “I appear worn out because your son was a stubborn one, but your wife remained brave and she and your son are doing well. Come and see for yourself.” She stepped aside for Penn to enter and before she could shut the door Royden sneaked past her.

Emily was sitting up in bed, smiling, her cheeks flushed red, and a swaddled bundle in her arms. “Come, Penn, and see your son.”

Penn hurried to her and looked about to collapse, plopping down beside her on the bed. “I didn’t think I would survive this birth.”

Emily laughed. “I felt the same, but Oria convinced me I was strong and that I should let our son know who was in charge.”

Penn peered over at the bundle, Emily easing back the blanket for her husband to have a look. “He’s bigger than I thought he’d be.”

“Oria thinks I miscalculated and he was born when he was supposed to be,” Emily explained.

“He’s a fine looking lad,” Penn beamed with pride as his son’s small mouth opened in a large yawn. “And a tired one too.”

“He exhausted us both,” Emily said, joy taking precedence over tiredness.

“We’ll leave you now so you may enjoy your newly born son,” Oria said. “Sara, Calla, and I will stop by over the next few days to help you with whatever you need, and I will have Bethany send food to you until you feel well enough to see to your own cooking.”

“You are most generous, Mistress Oria,” Penn said, turning to look at her.

“We take care of family, Penn,” Oria said. “I’m sure my husband will agree and command you to spend the remainder of the day with your wife and son.”