His kinsman Ross came near, and asked, ‘Do you want to bring your family to our home for the night?’ Since Ross’s home was on the opposite side of the fortress, it had escaped the fires.
Alex never took his eyes from Laren, but agreed. ‘Aye, if it’s no trouble to you.’
‘Not at all. Vanora will want to fuss over the wee ones, as she likes to do.’ His gaze grew sombre, staring at the smoke that rose from the valley below. ‘And you’ll be needing a place to stay until you can rebuild the keep.’
‘I’ll take the girls there now,’ Laren said quietly, ‘if you think it’s safe to return.’ Her voice was shaky, but at his nod she guided their daughters away from the crowds. As they disappeared into the forest, Ross was saying something else to him, but Alex didn’t hear a word of it.
His wife was behaving strangely and he didn’t know why. Then his gaze drifted down to his hands. Blood stained his palms from where he’d held his wife.
It was Laren’s blood.
Laren held Adaira’s hand as Mairin skipped forwards. She kept her head held high, even though the tears flowed freely down her face. She kept her hand firmly upon the bleeding wound at her side, trying not to take deep breaths. When Alex had held her, his hands had pressed against it and she’d nearly passed out from the pain. The injury felt like an aching fire, but she refused to pity herself.
She’d said nothing of it to the girls. They were frightened after the battle and the last thing she needed was for her daughters to start crying again. Right now it took her full concentration to keep from breaking down in front of them. She’d never known that a minor wound could hurt this badly.
Now that the enemy soldiers were gone, she could return to Glen Arrin for a little privacy to tend it. The wetness against her hand told her that the bleeding had started up again and stars swam in front of her eyes.
You should have told Alex, an inner voice chided. The very thought of her husband sent a quiet ache of regret through her. When he’d taken her in his arms, the urge to cling to him and sob out her miseries had been so tempting. But the last thing he’d needed was a hysterical wife bleeding all over him in front of everyone. He had to be strong in front of the clan, to be the leader they needed in this time of crisis. There was time to speak of it later, when they were alone.
Laren took a deep breath, wiping the tears away. For now, she had to bring the girls to Ross’s home for shelter.
‘Why are you crying, Mama?’ Mairin asked, coming to her side. ‘Are you sad?’
‘I’m just tired,’ she lied. She had to hold herself together right now. Alex would be busy sorting out places for the rest of the clan to live; likely he wouldn’t join them until later tonight.
‘Da!’ Mairin shouted, breaking free of her. Laren turned and saw Alex striding towards them. Her heart sank, for he looked furious. Instinctively, her hand went back to her wound, pressing against the flow of blood.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he demanded, raising up his hands. Upon them, she saw her own blood.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘I’ll be all right.’ To the girls she said, ‘Mairin, I want to talk to your father for a moment. Take Adaira down to the bottom of the hill and wait for us.’
Her daughter paled at the sight of Alex’s face and didn’t argue, retreating with her sister.
‘What happened?’ he demanded.
‘It was just an arrow. It pierced the skin here …’ she pointed to her bleeding side ‘… but it’s only a small wound. I’ll have Vanora help me with it.’
‘Were you trying to hide it from me?’ In his voice, she heard traces of fear, mingled with his anger.
‘You had too much on your mind and I didn’t want to be a bother, not when it’s something so minor.’
‘You were shot with an arrow, Laren. Why in the name of God would you think I wouldn’t want to bother with that?’
The fury on his face was like nothing she’d ever seen before. She kept her face averted, not knowing how to soften it. ‘The girls have lost enough this day, without having to be afraid for me.’
‘And what about you?’ he demanded, his voice falling into a harsh whisper. He reached to cup her face and Laren instinctively drew back. If he touched her right now, the control over her feelings was going to shatter. She could steel herself against his anger, but not his kindness.
‘I’ll be all right,’ she managed. She started to walk away, but when she glanced back at him, there was disbelief mingled with his frustration. He followed her and when they reached the girls at the bottom of the hill, he bent down to lift Mairin into his arms. He gave her a tight hug as he examined her; then he turned to Adaira, lifting her into his other arm.
He loved their girls. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d lay down his life for them. With Mairin and Adaira, he softened, letting them see a father who cared about more than their welfare. And, in return, they adored him.
‘Are you well?’ he asked the girls. ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’ He inspected them and then his gaze moved to her, as if in accusation.
Laren met his eyes and pronounced, ‘They’re all right.’ But although her husband had muted his anger in front of the girls, she sensed it simmering beneath the surface.
Adaira started to fuss, reaching towards her. When Laren stretched to take her, Alex held their daughter tight. ‘Stay with me, sweet.’
She was grateful for it, for she didn’t think she could bear the weight of Adaira, not with the wound.
‘Have you eaten?’ Alex asked, reaching into his pouch for some dried meat. The girls each took a piece and started gnawing on the venison. Though he offered her a piece, Laren refused it. The very thought of food made her ill.
He set Mairin down, keeping her hand in his as they moved to the far side of the fortress.
At the sight of Glen Arrin, Laren’s face turned grim. The keep was a burned mass of wood and hot coals, the dark smoke rising from the damaged structure. Every possession she had, save the clothes on her back, had been in the keep. The tapestries she’d woven, the girls’ gowns. The bed that Alex had made for them when they were first married. The tears broke free again, despite Laren’s efforts to stop them.
‘What will we do?’ she asked her husband, knowing that his pain was as deep as her own.
His emotions remained tight, his jaw clenched at the sight of the ruins. ‘Bury the dead. And start again.’
Alex led them to Ross’s house and ensured that it was safe before he allowed the girls to enter the small thatched dwelling. He remained outside and Laren couldn’t read the emotions in his stare. Without asking, he pulled back her dark cloak. The blood had soaked through the woolen gown she wore and he ordered her, ‘Don’t move. Vanora!’ he called out, hurrying toward the matron who was approaching from the hillside. ‘Laren was hurt. We need your help.’
The older woman hastened to reach her side and when Alex pulled back the cloak again, Laren’s cheeks flushed. Though she’d planned to ask Vanora for her help anyway, Alex was behaving as if the injury were life-threatening.
‘Oh, my dear, what happened to you?’ Vanora clucked and fussed over her, and Alex stepped back to let her examine the wound.
‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ Laren said quietly when the woman went to fetch her needle and linen to bind the wound.
The blistering look in Alex’s eyes told her that he didn’t believe a word she was saying. He was making her nervous with the way he hovered over her. ‘You should go and look after the others,’ she suggested.