Not Half Plaid (Bad in Plaid 2)

Not a question, but he answered her. “Aye, ‘twas Wren. She was so small—only a few months auld. She was weak with hunger by that point, and mad as a nest of hornets.” A reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he gazed back across the years. “I remember thinking ‘twas a miracle nae beasts had snatched her, and she must’ve had an angel protecting her until I could find her.”

“Did ye try to find her people?”

A quick, sharp shake of his head. “She’d been left there, deliberately abandoned. ‘Twasnae until I unwrapped her soiled bindings that I saw her foot and understood why.”

By that time, the wee bairn had wrapped her hand around one of his callused, cursed fingers, and he’d known she’d never let him go. Any more than he could let her go. “Someone thought she wasnae worth raising, and they’d left her there to die.”

Wynda’s hand stilled on his cheek and he watched her blink away tears.

“Ye saved her.”

This time he shook his head hard enough to dislodge her touch, and he missed it, until her hand settled against the bare skin of his neck.

“She saved me,” he confessed roughly. “I stood there in that field, trusting Geraldine to watch my back, and I looked into her wee, trusting eyes…” He had to swallow past the thickness in his throat. “And I kenned she was the reason I needed.”

“So ye took her and ran. All the way to the Oliphants.”

He hesitated. It hadn’t been that simple, but right then, he didn’t think this gently bred lady needed to hear about how the rest of the reaving party had doubled back to find him. How he’d defended Wren and his decision with his daggers. How he’d pulled one from Lar Campbell’s eye, and another from the throat of Big Sam, wiped the blades on the dirty rags his former gang-members had worn, and stolen their supplies.

His nod was quick, jerky. “I ran,” he said softly.

He’d run, and had spent the last six years looking over his shoulder, wondering how long it would be until the Campbell gang caught up with him.

But now…he blew out a breath, his chest somehow lighter. He’d told her and she was still smiling softly up at him, her thighs cradling his swollen cock. Amazing how a man’s erection could be maintained throughout a recitation of uncomfortable history.

I’ve been thinking of a future with ye.

If Wynda Oliphant consented to share a future with him, Pherson knew he’d be blessed beyond reckoning. And now…it seemed possible.

All he had to do was put his past behind him. To release that fear and constant worry, and accept he had a place here as the Oliphant falconer.

“I’m glad ye ran here, Pherson Ross.” Her other hand joined the first until both her palms were warm against the skin of his neck, on either side of his throat. “Or whatever yer name is.”

He blinked, and she grinned.

“Campbell land is south of here, but the Rosses are west. I assume ye changed yer name when ye ran?”

God’s Blood, this woman missed naught! “Aye,” he confessed roughly. “I took Ross because…”

“Because the Rosses were closer than the Campbells,” she finished. “And ye didnae want to seem too much the outsider. And besides, ye didnae ken who was searching for ye.”

His lips twitched, impressed. “Aye. And Pherson was my father’s name.”

She cocked her head to one side, studying him. He braced himself to speak his birth name, which he hadn’t thought of in many years. ‘Twas the name the Campbell gang had called him, and it represented his past.

But she surprised him.

Of course she did.

She wouldn’t be Wynda if she didn’t surprise him.

With a small, secret smile on her lips, she tugged his head down to her. His hair swung forward, forming a curtain around them as he followed her urging.

She placed a small kiss to his lips. It wasn’t aught like what they’d shared earlier, but it was sweet. Sacred, somehow. As if she was blessing him.

“I love ye, Pherson. Pherson Oliphant. I ken ye used to have a different name, but ye dinnae need to tell me that name, no’ now and no’ ever. I love ye as Pherson, the name yer father would be proud to ken ye bear.”

Holy fook. It was a good thing he was leaning against the wall, else he might’ve slid to the ground when she so casually granted him such a soul-shattering affirmation.