Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

“Aye, I can sense my mother’s presence in this place and that comforts me as naught else can.”


“I’m so sorry you lost her the way you did, that she died before either of you ever had the chance to know each other.” He motioned toward the second cherry tree, slightly smaller than her mother’s but still of a towering height. “Who planted the other tree?”

“When I was seven, my mother’s tree bloomed with its first crop and Father picked me a cherry and after I ate it, I planted the stone.” She wandered to her tree, reverently touched the rough bark. “A sapling sprouted the following spring and grew strong and tall. This is my tree.”

“I’m glad you have this special place to come to, to spend time with your mother and remember her.” He caught one trailing end of her white shawl and draped it back over her shoulder.

“At times, when I visit this place, the pain of losing her roars to the surface and becomes stronger. It grips my heart and crushes it, even as it opens my heart wider and revels in my mother’s love. I certainly dinnae know how Father has dealt with his loss all these years. They were soul bound and so in love. He would have perished too if it weren’t for me.”

“The last thing I would want is to lose my soul bound mate, that’s once I find her.” He brushed his fingers against hers, his thumb stroking fleetingly over the inside of her palm. Tingles radiated out from that tiny spot and sizzled through her, just as they always did when he touched her.

“Tonight is the night you shall find her, your chosen one. You must keep the faith that you will.” A part of her heart, deep down inside where she kept her greatest secrets, heaved at the thought of losing him to another, of never having any more of these special moments which they’d had a great deal of together since his arrival. So close, they’d become, and far closer than she should have allowed, only turning away from him had been impossible. Still was. With a soft sigh, she stepped away from him, walked back to her mother’s tree and the woven basket she’d brought from the kitchens underneath. She’d promised the cook she’d pick some cherries for a cherry pie, and so she would.

“Tavish said the same thing to me before I came out here in search of you and Cherub, that I needed to keep the faith, that I’d find her. In only a matter of a few hours the sun will descend and the moon rise. Then I will know exactly who she is.” Tavish, his twin brother, had recently completed the bond with Julia, one of her closest friends and Nessa’s granddaughter. She and Julia had been raised together and she adored seeing how her friend had now found such love with Tavish.

“You should go now, and prepare for the night to come.” She grabbed ahold of the cherry tree’s lowest limb and with her skill, boosted herself up. From branch to branch, she clambered until she reached the wide bow a good ten feet from the ground and with her deep red skirts bunched around her, plopped into the curved hollow she’d spent many an hour within.

“There’s no rush. Do you need a hand?” He nabbed the lowest branch, swung himself agilely up then settled in the bow beside her.

“Nay.” She giggled and tapped his nose.

“Oh well, I’m here now.” He leaned back, rested his head against the trunk and crossed his wide arms. “I hear you’ve only got five days left until you wed Donnan MacDonald.”

“The MacDonalds are due to arrive from Skye soon. Mayhap on the morrow, or even the day after.” Five more days of freedom, five more days of being here amongst her clan, and five more days to bundle a lifetime of memories into with Father and her clan. Wedding Donnan would take her far from Father’s side, the one thing about agreeing to the betrothal that she detested with all her heart, not that Skye was too far away. She could return for visits, and she surely would.

“I can see what you’re thinking.” The wind lifted his silky black hair and tousled it, his gaze filled with concern. “You don’t want to go.”

“I would dearly love to remain, but my future was set the day my father aided the MacDonald in a battle on the very night of my birth, then cemented further when I came of age and remained alone, without a soul bound mate. Three years Father has waited to see if I shall be bound to another.” She tucked a lock of his tousled hair behind his ear. “Glad I am though that I am without such a soul bond. I would hate to go through the heartache and pain my father did when he lost my mother, should I ever lose the one I was bound to.”

“There is also heartache and pain in never finding one’s soul bound mate. That I know well.” A ripe cherry dangled just above his head and he plucked it free, removed the stalk. “All I long for is to find my chosen one, complete the bond and never let her go.”