Highland Sanctuary (12 page)

"How well do ye ride?" A horse snorted and another one whinnied as they drew closer to the stables.

Serena tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and stared up at him. Her mouth twisted as she raised her chin. "I suppose that's a fair question since ye've never seen me ride on my own."

"I didn't mean to offend ye. I merely thought to help ye find a proper horse." Gavin leaned one arm over an empty stall door and watched her.

She twisted the button on her cloak at her neck. Her gaze shifted around the stable. Was she afraid to ride and too proud to admit it? Such a thing would most certainly be the Highland way.

"In spite of what ye must think of me, I'll choose my own mount." Serena strolled down the aisle, her head turning from side to side, glancing in each stall.

"What must I be thinking, pray tell?" Gavin followed at a leisure pace, his hands linked behind his back. Something vexed her, and he couldn't help wondering what.

She smirked. "That I'm a feeble lass who canna stay seated upon a wagon, with spoiled feet that trample stranger's toes."

Ahh, her wounded pride was the barrier between them. Mayhap he could flatter his way past it. "On the contrary, I no longer consider myself a stranger. And nay, I think something unusual must have happened to unseat ye from the wagon. I imagine ye're used to that wagon and ye've probably made the trip to town on many occasions."

Serena whirled, her green eyes blazed with fire. He wasn't sure if it was anger or fear. "What unusual thing must have happened?" The question came out breathless.

Gavin blinked, trying to understand her curious behavior. He lifted his hands as if in surrender. "Only that yer horse must have stepped in a hole or tripped over a rock. What else could I have possibly meant?"

He stepped closer and trailed a finger over her cheek. "Serena, I could never think ill of ye. Indeed, I'm in awe of ye. I don't wish to argue, but ye seem determined to be angry with me. If I've done something, tell me. I want to make amends at once."

"Nay, I'm sorry." She blinked, but didn't turn away. "Ye've done naught to deserve my temper. I let my imagination get carried away is all."

"Glad to hear it. I've only had good, decent thoughts about ye. Don't ever think otherwise. I'll leave ye to choose a horse while I ready Sholto."

Gavin strode to Sholto's stall and unlocked the gate. He rubbed the animal's neck in greeting. Sholto leaned toward him, embracing the contact. Gavin smiled as Sholto's tail swung in an arc. He was ready for a vigorous ride.

A few minutes later, Gavin led his horse out at the same time Serena appeared with a brown mare. The two animals greeted each other with a snort. Sholto's white hair glowed in comparison. Much taller and filled with muscular strength, Gavin couldn't help thinking how each horse matched their rider.

"Has Iain told ye of the welcoming party he intends to throw for ye and Leith?" Serena glanced sideways at him.

"Aye." Gavin nodded. "That isn't necessary, though. He's given us plenty of hospitality. I've no wish for him to go to more trouble on our behalf."

"Too late. He's made up his mind. The Earl of Caithness wants to meet ye. I'll be in charge of planning it. We'll have a fine feast, music, and dancing."

"Serena, will ye be there?" The idea of dancing with her again warmed his blood.

"Aye, but I'm none too pleased by it." Her lips formed a thin line as they left the shadow of the stables.

"Why is that? Most women I know would be thrilled at a chance to wear their finest at a lively evening full of dancing and entertainment." He grinned, unable to hide his amusement.

She looked toward the castle where his men worked building the new scaffolds. "Mayhap those women have fine gowns, and they've been trained in courtship dances and the formal ways of such things. No doubt, they know what to say around educated men who have traveled the world. At my age, they wouldn't be attending their first formal dance—beyond the simple country dances."

"A fine gown is a material possession that can be bought quickly enough." Gavin wanted to give her the confidence she needed—to somehow ease her discomfort and fear. "The dances can be taught, but the rest is fear I hear in yer voice. I think ye're too strong a lass to let fear conquer ye like that. I'm an educated man who has traveled the world, and ye have no problem talking to me."

"Aye, Gavin." Serena brushed strands of hair from her face. "But ye're different. I've already trampled yer feet and still ye're my friend."

His smile faltered. His tongue burned with the desire to tell her he wanted to be more than her friend, but she was right. He had offered her his friendship with no assumptions. Instead, he shrugged and forced a smile. "Any man who denies ye his friendship for such a simple matter wouldn't be worth

having as a friend. As for the dances, I'm willing to teach ye a few on one condition." He raised a finger.

"Which is?" Serena lifted a dark eyebrow, her green eyes glistening in the sun.

"Ye give me the first and the last dance at the party."

S
erena rode along the border of the laird's property, pointing out memorable landmarks to Gavin. It included the whole village in the woods, the loch, and the rocky edge bordering the sea where Braigh Castle was situated.

She glanced over at Gavin. He rode like a warrior upon Sholto's white back, sitting tall, his broad shoulders stretched like an oak mantle. She loved the bright red of his hair and how it tapered down his neck. Gavin glanced in her direction, as if he sensed her studying him. He winked at her, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face.

"What was that for?" Her neck heated, numbing her head. She gripped the reins tighter.

He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted. They were at a grassy knoll overlooking the brilliant blue-gray sea. Below them, waves crashed against the rocks. The castle walls were high above them to the right. The wind sailed off the ocean, filling the air with the smell of salty seaweed and fish. It was wonderful.

"Ye're about to receive yer first dance lesson." Gavin strode toward her. "I canna think of a better place—or time."

What had she agreed to?

Gunna's voice came to mind, "dearie me."

The words dissolved from her thoughts as Gavin reached up and swung her down. Serena gasped, holding onto his powerful arms. It took her a few moments to realize she had landed on her feet and could let go of him. His blue eyes touched her face, kindling a spark of tenderness inside. She swallowed, unsure of her feelings.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, gesturing around them. "Pretend this area is surrounded by people. All of them will form a large circle. The first dance I'll show ye is the ring dance. Everyone will move this way." He stirred his arm like a clock.

Taking her hand, he skipped, hopped, and turned around. He pulled her along. By the time they completed the imaginary ring, they were breathless from laughing. Gavin pressed his palms to his knees and drew a deep breath. Serena touched her chest, as her fast-beating heart kept a constant rhythm with the roaring ocean.

"Do people always dance that fast?" Serena asked between breaths.

"Mayhap, not quite as quick on their feet." He straightened to his full height. "I could use some water." He whistled and Sholto came forward. Gavin unfastened a flask from the animal's saddle and held it out. "Here, drink from this and quench yer thirst."

Serena accepted the brown container and popped the cork. She lifted it to her mouth and welcomed the cool, refreshing liquid. It slid down her throat like a smooth waterfall. Wanting to save some for Gavin, she forced the tiny fountain from her lips and handed it back, wiping her mouth.

"Thank ye." The words came out in a breathless whisper. His fingers closed around hers, warm and full of strength as he gripped them. Their eyes met and once again she was struck by the handsome blue depths watching and assessing her.

"Ye have bonny eyes, the color of peat moss, which gives Scotland its natural beauty."

The seriousness in his tone broke through the icy walls of her heart, like cracking the surface of a frozen loch. The warmth of his touch melted her fears into a river that shivered throughout her body.

"I'm sorry, lass. Are ye cold?" His eyes flickered. He leaned closer.

"Nay." She shook her head. "The air is delightful after so much dancing." She couldn't tell him that he had made her tremble with a mere look. The last thing she wanted was for the man to think her daft.

He nodded, accepting her answer and raising the flask to take a drink. The corded muscles in his neck moved with each swallow. Once he had enough, Gavin slid the cork back in place and tucked the container away.

"Shall I teach ye another dance?" He grinned as if he took pleasure in the idea.

"Aye, but first let's talk a bit." She strolled to the edge and sat upon the grass, overlooking the sea. "Sit down." She patted the spot next to her. "Tell me of yer homeland. I've never been anywhere but here."

She wanted to know more about him. What was it like where he came from? What did he think of the Village of Outcasts—of her?

He sat beside her as a seagull flew over them, squealing. The waves below roared in constant motion, easing her into a peaceful state, almost tempting her to lie back and enjoy a nap.

Gavin crossed his ankles and leaned back on his palms. "MacKenzie lands are a couple hundred miles south of here in an area called Ross. I grew up living at MacKenzie Castle up on a brae."

"Our wee cottages must seem like a hole in the ground in comparison." Serena kept her eyes on the ocean, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

"Some of our people live in similar homes. Ye must remember, Serena, it isn't the house that makes a comfortable, loving home. It's the souls that live in it."

"Is it better than Braigh Castle? I canna imagine aught larger."

"Aye." Gavin nodded. "And the stones are more sturdy and smooth. The foundation of Braigh Castle is decaying by the grit of the salt air and the cold, moist winds blowing off the north sea."

"Ye don't have the sea where ye're come from?" She lifted her knees and folded her arms around them as he shook his head. "That would be sad to me. For I dearly love the sea."

"We have lochs, plenty of moors and burns. The land isn't as flat as Caithness, and we have more woods. My part of the Highlands has it's own mysteries and beauty. I think ye'd like it if ye ever visited. My step-mither and da are verra friendly. They would treat ye like a queen."

"Me? A low-born lass?" Serena laughed. "I'm not that innocent, Gavin MacKenzie."

"But they would. Ye'd have just as much protection under my da's care. Mayhap even a better home. I could build one for ye and yer mither."

"Gavin! I'm not much impressed by things. We could have lived in a castle if we wanted."

He paused and leaned forward with a raised eyebrow. She longed to reach out and trace a finger along the golden-red arches above his intense eyes now staring at her, but she refrained, clasping her fingers tight.

"Aye." She nodded. "When Iain MacBraigh offered me my position, he gave us the choice to live at Braigh Castle. Even though the village is under his protection, he said he could keep us safer if we were behind the castle walls."

"I'd agree." Gavin's voiced turned rough. He looked away, plucked a handful of grass and tossed it. His lips formed a scowl and his jaw tensed. "Mayhap, ye should have taken him up on his goodwill. There's foul play about—with the cobbler's murdered cow and the kirk fire. I don't like ye walking back and forth to the castle. It's too dangerous."

"I'll be fine and Phelan is with me most of the time."

"Why won't ye let me carry ye back an' forth each day?" His thumb traced a circle on her cheek like light butterfly swirls, breaking her thoughts.

He inched closer. Serena's heartbeat quickened. His gaze lowered to her mouth. Fear of the unknown fluttered through her, along with a fierce curiosity to feel his lips upon hers. The war waging inside her didn't feel right, and she pulled out of his grasp, standing to her feet.

"Serena?" Gavin clambered to his feet after her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have allowed myself such liberties. Please forgive me, lass."

With her back to him, Serena closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling immense heat rise to her face. She turned, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin.

"I'm not angry at ye, Gavin." She was furious at herself for wanting him to kiss her, knowing that a relationship between them could lead nowhere. How could she be vexed at him for desiring the same? "But our friendship must remain as it is."

"I don't know that I can do that, Serena. I crave more." Gavin paced before her. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Let me ask ye a question, Gavin. Ye said that yer parents would welcome me and offer me their protection in the clan?"

"Aye." He stopped pacing and watched her.

"Would someone like me be welcomed into yer family as well as the clan?"

His gaze faltered, unable to meet her eyes. Serena recognized the guilt in him, but the confirmation of what she already knew sliced through her hopeful heart.

"I won't lie, Serena. My family would welcome Leith forming such an attachment more so than myself. As the second son, he'll inherit lands, but not the castle estate or the chieftainship of the clan." He folded his arms and stroked his chin. "But that doesn't mean they would outright disown me. And if I were not elected as chief, I would survive."

Serena smiled. "Ye say that now, but ye might come to begrudge it later. Besides, ye haven't considered that I might not be willing to leave Caithness. I'm safe here. This place is my sanctuary."

"But I would protect ye." Gavin grabbed her shoulders.

"Gavin, there are things ye don't know about me. Everyone living in the Village of Outcasts has something different about them—including me. This burden I carry would be a much stronger obstacle for ye to overcome than my being a poor commoner."

"Whatever it is canna be that bad or I would have already recognized it." He tightened his grip on her shoulders. "It won't matter."

"Aye, it will."

"Gavin!" A voice called in the distance.

Serena stepped away and shielded her eyes. Leith rode toward them. He slowed his mount to a stop as he drew near. "I hope ye've finished touring the grounds. We've been summoned to the castle. The Earl of Caithness would like to meet us."

While Serena seemed relieved for Leith's interruption, Gavin was disappointed. He wanted to question her further on the secret she had mentioned, but sensed she wouldn't welcome such a discussion in Leith's presence as they rode back.

The near kiss . . . he couldn't bring himself to regret that action. She was lovely inside and out. He didn't feel compelled to impress her with displays of prowess. Serena made him see things differently. Her satisfaction in such a small cottage with a dirt floor shamed him for his desire of wanting more.

"Gavin, ye're not listening," Leith said. "Twice I've asked yer opinion of the grounds ye've seen today."

Springing to attention, Gavin cleared his thoughts. "Iain MacBraigh has a large estate. There's plenty of unused farmland he could rent out to the villagers if he wanted. The soil appears lush and fertile. He has freshwater lochs. It looks like Iain owns the only land in the shire with timber."

"Aye, that he does." Leith agreed with a nod. He turned to Serena. "Did my brother behave himself? Sometimes he has a way with the lasses that can leave behind many a broken heart."

"Leith!" Gavin raised his voice, but couldn't help the small grin that slipped through in spite of Leith's mischievous ploy. "The only brokenhearted lasses left behind are the ones ye've left. No one from home, and none of the men with us, would deny the truth in that."