“Do you agree with Roderick?” he asked without any preamble before she had a chance to walk any further into the room. “Do you want to head for the west, to be free of this place and all its trappings?”
“Absolutely not,” she said, her brows furrowed in annoyance. “Do you not know anything about me now? Or do you prefer to simply make assumptions without giving me any chance to share the truth? After you stormed out, I sat there and told Roderick exactly what I thought—that you would never leave this land or your clan, and that he should have known to never have asked you to do so. We have not been together long, but I am already well aware of what it means to you to be responsible for your people. I should hope you know that the Highlands course through my veins as much as they do yours, and I have no desire to leave this place. Think of it, Finlay. I married you in order to better our clans. I would not follow that action by leaving all of this!”
Finlay eyed her.
“Yes, I am aware that marrying me was quite the sacrifice.”
“Oh Finlay, stop your self-pity,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”
He finally softened as he looked her over. She was beautiful when she was angry. Hell, she was beautiful no matter what emotions played out on her face. But he loved her determination, her refusal to back down. She faced him with her hands on her hips, her cheeks red from what he now knew was ire. The sad part was that he couldn’t even argue with her. He was always ready to believe the worst.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, finally sitting on his bed. “I do understand that about you. You would not want to leave either the MacTavishes or the McDougalls. I know it’s a struggle, Kyla, truly I do, but if we sell, all we are doing is passing on the responsibility to another landowner, one who will not care about our people. Likely a Lowlander or an Englishman would buy this place for the land, forcing out the people who remain. It’s something we cannot do.”
“Of course we can’t,” she said, crossing to the bed and sitting next to him, taking his hand in hers. “Whatever we do, whatever comes next, we shall do it together, Finlay. You don’t have to take this on by yourself. All I ask is that you let me help you, that ye let me in and listen, do you understand?”
He gripped her hand tightly.
“You know I dinna agree with everything your family has done,” he muttered.
“Aye, I realize that,” she said, then surprised him by admitting, “I don’t either. I know my father is greedy, and I know my brother is lazy. As much as I love them and don’t like hearing anyone speak thus of them, I know their faults. I’m worried about the MacTavishes. I don’t know what is to come of them. My father is making things difficult enough that by the time my brother takes over, I wonder what will be left for him. And Rory certainly will not be able to manage his way out of any type of messy situation, nor has any true interest in what will happen.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what to do.”
Finlay looked at her closely. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, shaking her hand. “We willna let the MacTavishes fall to ruin, Kyla. I promise you that.”
She turned and looked at him, their gazes locking once more. How could this woman, who he could hardly speak to a short time ago, suddenly seem to know all of his thoughts and emotions with one look?
“Thank you,” she said, studying him. “I know you don’t make such a promise lightly, and I appreciate your intentions toward the MacTavishes—especially since you don’t agree with the clan’s ways.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod, though he wrenched his gaze away. “They’re your family, Kyla. And you’re my family now, which makes them mine in turn.”
Her ready smile showed itself, causing the dimple deep within her cheeks to indent.
“Oh, Finlay,” she said, lifting a hand to his face.
He forced himself not to flinch at her touch. He wasn’t used to people touching him. Lord knew his family loved to hug and share far too much with one another, but he had always made it clear that he preferred to be left alone when it came to physical contact. Kyla was finding her way around those barriers.
“Tonight was classic Finlay,” she said with a soft smile, and he frowned at her.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She laughed lightly. “Do not be insulted. It’s a good thing. You resist change, yes, and you are quick to anger when someone challenges you. Yet when it comes to those you love and the duties you are responsible for, you put those priorities before everything else. You are hardworking and dedicated, with an iron will. I respect that about you. It shows how much you truly care.”
His cheeks warmed at her words. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone, besides his mother perhaps, had so much particularly lovely things to say about him. He found he rather liked it, especially coming from her lips, though he couldn’t entirely tell her so.
“That is kind, though unnecessary, Kyla,” he said stiffly, and she smacked him on the arm.
“You need to learn to take a compliment, Finlay,” she said, shaking a finger at him, the smile remaining on her face. “I’ve doled out more than enough insults your way.”
He chuckled at that, supposing she was correct in that regard.
“You are right about one thing.”
“Which is?” she lifted an eyebrow.
“I will do anything for my family. For my clan. I will make this all right again, Kyla.”
“I know you will,” she said,
