Highland Blessings (12 page)

Bryce stepped forward, and all the tension in his body seemed to fade as he gently cupped her chin so he could see her face more clearly. “I’m sorry, lass. I didn’t mean to hurt yer feelings.” She could hear the sincerity in his apology.

Akira sighed and allowed her gaze to travel from his unshaven face, over the firm set of his lips, to his perfectly sculpted nose, and finally rested on the gray eyes staring back at her. Was it her imagination or did she see tenderness in his expression?

“Ye did naught to hurt me, m’lord. ’Tis only the memory of my shame that day.”

“Lass, I didn’t mean to cause unwanted memories. If ye don’t wish to speak further on it, I won’t ask ye.”

Akira shook her head. “Nay, I’ve a need to speak of it. Ye came before I was able to finish my explanation to everyone. I’ve not had a chance to talk about it.”

“I’m listening.” Bryce dropped his hand from her face and waited.

“Gregor had every intention of going through with our wedding, but the night before he had a dream that changed his mind. He knew I would understand because of all the dreams I’ve had over the years.”

“Why would a dream make such a difference on the man’s decision to wed ye? Nearly all my dreams of the night make little sense. If I were to base such a huge decision on a dream, everyone would think me demented.” Bryce scowled at her with his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Do ye mock me, lass?”

His reaction infuriated her, and she struggled to calm the rising flames within her.

“M’lord, how could I be mocking ye when this isn’t about ye, but me?” Akira pointed at her chest as her voice rose a notch. “Have ye never had a dream that made ye break out in cold sweats or yer heart beat faster until ye wished ye would have never had it?” Akira rose to her tiptoes. “What about a dream that was so pleasant ye wished it would never end?” Her voice broke above a whisper.

She knew the moment her words connected with a memory he had long forgotten or pushed aside. An emotion so raw and potent flickered in his expression. Just as quickly he brought his composure back under control, to create the façade he obviously wanted to present to her.

“Perhaps,” he reluctantly admitted.

Akira felt a kinship developing between them. “Ye do understand what I mean, don’t ye?”

She had told him so much of her feelings; couldn’t he at least share one thing with her? She laid a hand over his arm. At the contact, Bryce looked down at her hand and then back into her eyes.

“Aye, lass. When I was a lad, I was there when my da died. He made me promise that I would see Evan honor the betrothal between him and yer father.” Bryce reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles. His tenderness made her resolve against him melt for the moment. “A murderer had run a sword through him, and I remember how he gasped for air as pain ripped through his body. Sweat poured from his brow as he struggled for that last promise from me.”

Bryce dropped his hand, and Akira felt the cold air upon her cheek from the absence of his warm fingers.

He sighed. “After that I had nightmares about his death for years to come. Many of them ended with me not keeping my promise to him and the bitter disappointment on his face. If I ever get a chance to see him again in the afterlife, I never want to see him look at me like that.”

His voice carried such contained grief. Akira could hear the pain of a lad still caged inside of a man who had grown into a fearsome warrior.

Akira reached for both of his hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause ye pain anymore than ye intended to wound me.”

Their gazes met and something deeper than understanding began to stir between them. Akira wasn’t sure what it was, but she didn’t want the moment to end. For the first time, she felt a measure of peace and truth between them. Was it possible?

The warmth in his smile turned her stomach upside-down and she felt a heady sensation course through her.

“Lass, ye aren’t to blame for something that has been happening to me for years.”

“Ye seemed so against believing that a dream could have such a strong impact that it could change a man’s mind regarding marriage. I only wanted to make ye understand the truth of what I was trying to say.”

“I understand, lass,” Bryce assured her. “Tell me. What did he dream?” Bryce looked down at her with open curiosity and a smile that gave her hope.

“An angel came to Gregor in his dream and told him he wasn’t to wed me. I was meant for another. I’m not one to argue with the Lord, but I was so stunned by this news, I didn’t know what to think. When ye took me I thought that perhaps I was meant to be a MacPhearson bride, but now Evan is gone. I guess God has something else planned. Far be it from me to know what it is.”

Bryce seemed to pale, and he let go of her hands and stepped back from her.

“M’lord, whatever is wrong? Have I said something?”

“Nay.” He turned and kneeled before the altar. He bowed his head and seemed to be whispering a prayer of thanksgiving.

Akira couldn’t hear everything he said, but she patiently waited. When he made the sign of the cross and stood to his feet, she said, “M’lord, ye’re acting a wee bit strange.”

“Ye were always meant to be a MacPhearson bride, Akira.”

“What are ye talking about?” Her stomach began to clench in tight spasms. As gently as she could, Akira reminded him, “Evan is gone, m’lord.” Was he so grief-stricken that he would deny his brother’s death?

“Ye weren’t meant to be Evan’s bride.”

“M’lord, ye’re not making any sense. Pray tell, what are ye talking about?” Akira pleaded.

“Ye were meant to be a MacPhearson bride. Ye were meant to be
my
bride.”

W
ith the hole in the earth dug and prayers said, Akira tried to block out the weeping women who stood all around her, but her heart wouldn’t allow it. Several times she clenched her teeth and bit hard to avoid tears. She didn’t want to feel for these people. They were her enemies, and she was forced to be here among them. Those she had met were not overly friendly, or they ignored her completely, as if the mere sight of her disgusted them.

Akira had not wanted to attend Evan’s burial. She didn’t feel that she or Elliot belonged, but Bryce had insisted. He said he would feel better knowing they were both in sight rather than worrying that they might be attacked. As predicted, his people were angry and hurt, and they wanted revenge. They wanted MacKenzie blood. Elliot and Akira were both easy targets. Since Bryce wanted to promote peace and forgiveness, he had to walk as an example before them as their newly elected chieftain. Locking Elliot and Akira up for their protection wouldn’t give his clan the impression he had in mind.

Determined to keep from responding to the grief around her, Akira turned her mind in a different direction. She looked across the gravesite at Bryce. He stood beside Sim in a warrior’s stance, his face a mask of stone, his tense hands folded in front of him. Only Akira noticed the slight twitch in his eye and the way his jaw muscles locked each time he swallowed. His stormy eyes portrayed the emotion swirling within him like a volcano before the eruption. She wanted to hate him, and yet, the recent tenderness she had seen beneath his rough exterior tugged at her heart.

Beside her, Elliot reached for her hand, locking fingers with hers. Akira clung to him for comfort. Growing up she had depended upon her other brother, Gavin, for most of her emotional support, but Gavin wasn’t here; Elliot was. His presence reminded her of home. Elliot squeezed her hand as if reading her thoughts and gave her a wink with a reassuring smile.

Bryce had not allowed them much time together, but they managed to steal moments of conversation here and there. Elliot had given her a bit of news from home. As she had expected, her mother was frantic with worry and her father was unusually quiet. He refused to make a rash decision concerning Akira’s plight, always having to consider what was best for the whole clan.

Elliot and Gregor, impatient with his caution, ventured onto MacPhearson land without Birk MacKenzie’s knowledge. Gavin was restless, but content to wait on Birk’s direction, and so they had not included him in their plan. Elliot claimed they had not intended to attack anyone from the MacPhearson clan. They only wanted to confirm that she was not being mistreated.

Akira’s gaze rose to the distant sky as more wailing reached her ears. The afternoon sun began to set, and a light pink shade slowly dissolved the magnificent blue of the sky. Soon it would be dark, and she wished it would come quickly. She felt uncomfortable and completely exhausted. The thought of retiring from the day brought a refreshing reprieve.

Vicar Forbes made the sign of the cross and ended his prayer. Four men moved forward and filled the dirt in Evan’s grave, a sign that the whole ordeal would soon be over. Her chest lightened with relief while people came forward and placed handpicked flowers at the foot of the grave.

A weak groan caught her attention. Sim’s chin shook as he tried to control his grief. Bryce offered him no comfort, while he accepted expressions of sorrow from members of their clan in his role as head of the family. Sim needed someone, and surely it couldn’t hurt if she went to him. Finella stood further back in the crowd with her own family and couldn’t see Sim. Another groan slipped from his lips, and without another thought, Akira broke from Elliot’s hold.

Sim saw her coming and didn’t bother hiding his relief as he wrapped his arms about her. He looked up and fresh tears swam in his eyes, seeking comfort and strength from her as he would from his mother. Deeply touched, Akira’s throat constricted as she fought the onslaught of tears … and lost. She rubbed his bony shoulders. It mattered not that he was a MacPhearson. He was God’s child.

Akira knew her simple act of compassion would be scrutinized by all the MacPhearsons, but what did she care? None of them seemed to like her anyway. It seemed as if there was naught she could do to gain their favor. If they cared so much for Bryce’s family, shouldn’t someone have come forward to console the lad?

She could feel many watching her from a distance, unsure of her motives, some with interest and hope, others with more hatred burning in their hearts than ever before. One pair of eyes in particular made the hair on Akira’s nape prickle and her skin crawl with an eerie feeling. A breeze brushed against her skin. She sensed someone moving toward her and looked up from comforting Sim.

A beautiful woman approached; her flowing blond hair seemed to silhouette her upper body in a golden halo. Her blue eyes were cold with open disdain, as she strode purposely toward Akira. Her arms moved back and forth; her hips swayed. Clothed in the MacPhearson plaid, her beauty drew attention as she stopped in front of Akira.

Her gaze perused Akira from head to toe as if the sight disgusted her. Ruby lips twisted, drawing out the contrasting blue of her eyes embedded in a creamy white face so completely flawless that Akira wondered if she could even be real. She spat in Akira’s face, leaving her to wonder no more.

The woman turned and walked away, while Akira used her sleeve to wipe away the offending spittle. Straightening her posture and rolling back her shoulders, Akira set her face like flint, determined not to let them drag down her spirit. She lifted her chin and focused on the vicar while they watched her. Sensing Bryce’s attention upon her, Akira resisted looking in his direction. The satisfaction she would see lurking in his eyes would snap her control and send her into a roaring rage.

Vicar Forbes took his calling to heart and proceeded as planned. “Bryce.” His authoritative voice claimed the clan’s attention as he motioned for Bryce to come forward. “’Tis time.”

Bryce nodded and, with a commanding glance, waited for Sim to follow. For the next half-hour the two MacPhearson brothers accepted words of sympathy and comfort, while Akira stood alone, awkwardly avoiding Elliot’s accusing gaze. She knew her brother’s opinion of what she had done. He’d be angry that she had left his side to comfort a MacPhearson— even a lad.

Akira stared at the flowers on the fresh grave as if she were in a trance.

“Lass, ’twas kind of ye to tend to Sim.”

The sound of another woman’s voice addressing Akira made her tense. Were her ears deceiving her, or had someone actually spoken kind words? Akira’s gaze rose to a tall, thin woman who stood before her holding a small lad’s hand. The top of his brown head reached just above her hip.

“The lad needs a lovin’ touch every now and then, and God knows he’s lacked plenty of it in his life. His brothers have always tried their best, but ’tis not the same as a woman’s touch.” Akira realized she referred to Sim. The woman wore her brown hair pulled in a tight bun, and her pale complexion glowed in a heartwarming smile. Her gaze hesitantly drifted to an impatient man motioning to her. “I must be goin’. My husband Tavis is waiting.” She turned, paused, and glanced back. “My name is Vika.”

“Thank ye,” Akira said, noticing Bryce staring directly at her, his gaze cold and unreadable. She shivered. Aye, meeting Vika was a comfort. A friendly face might well mean an ally in this place filled with stares of animosity for anyone with ties to the MacKenzie clan.

Tavis and Vika were the last to express their condolences. Kian and Balloch escorted Elliot, while Bryce firmly gripped Akira. Sim eagerly grabbed her other elbow.