Highland Supplanter (Book 2)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

He could not believe what he had done. People had joked about him doing such things, but never before had he ever actually knocked down a door. And the shocked expression on the woman before him was what finally managed to break through into his mind which seemed to have frozen with the snow around. “Sorry, I’ll fix that.” Realising his hand was still raised, heat raced across his cheekbones. Only to look and find it still raised. Lowering it quickly. He ducked his head a moment before meeting her gaze once more.

“No, it does not matter,” she looked down with such concentration, as if she could lift the door with that power alone. “I am sure my father will be able to complete it when he returns.” Just to prove her words false, a rather loud snore rent the air. Hamish looked pointedly over her shoulder where her father’s unconscious form could been seen slightly behind the table. Bringing his gaze back to her, he found that she was looking at the door instead of him. As if she thought if she did not look at him he was not there.

Apart from the fact that his frame was acting as the door, and he could see a tightness to her lips that denoted pain. Remembering her injury he pushed his way into the cottage. Or rather pieces of wood, barely held together with some chilling gaps in between. Not allowing her any time to think. As per his plan. He bent down and lent the door back into place, one more gap was not going to create a difference in the temperature in here at all. In fact, he could conceivably say it was warmer outside than it was in this tiny cottage.

“I broke the door, I will fix it.” Shoving the bundle into her arms. She had no time to think to reject the offer. Natural instinct took over and her arms reflexively moved to take a hold of the cloak, and precious food within. Moving her further into the cottage with his body, she made quiet murmurings of shocked affront, and he knew he had to be quick or she could very well turn this situation around. Yet again.

“Make something to eat, I’ll need someone to hold up the door as I reattach it. And you have hardly enough strength to stand as it is.” Looking down a moment, he pushed her towards a rickety looking stool near the table. “And sit down,” turning to take in the whole interior. “It’s too cold in here for any life to survive.” Decision made, “I’ll make a fire, you make something to eat as I try and find what I’ll need to repair the door. And you think if anything else needs fixing.” Heading over to the fire place.

“There’s no dry wood.” The tentative, almost shocked voice, came from behind him. He knew he had never acted to forthright with her before. But he had expected to fight him, not turn into the timid little mouse she was around others. He had seen the other side of her. The side where she had a will of tempered steel and a spirit to match her vivid red hair.

“None at all?” How he had let her live in conditions like these? He was feeling like an utter fool. How had he not see this? He had left food, other bits and bobs. And yet, he had missed all the big things. Looking down at her comatose father snoring away in a drunken stupor on the floor. Even after all the noise he had created and the cold that was seeping into his bones, there was still not movement from the one person who should have taken care of her as the precious gift that she was. Any child should have that. He was disgusted that her father had not allowed his life to fall apart as it had, and in the process brought his daughter down with him.

He had found out his parents had not been the ones who had birthed him. And yet they had been the perfect example for him growing up. They had not let him be alone, when he could have happily separated himself from all others. They had made him speak, and become an integral part of the clan. For that he would be forever grateful. Because of that, he knew the tools. Knew the signs of someone withdrawing, and had to tools to pull them back from the brink.

As a boy of thirteen summers, he had withdrawn so far from others, that the only people who could reach him were his parents and Camdyn. It got so bad that he withdrew even inside himself, until he was forced to realise what that was doing to those around him. And while he would never be a man of much conversation, preferring to be in the background. People never forgot him. Always knew they could count on him.

He faced the woman before him, her eyes wide, her mouth open a fraction as she stared at him. Unblinking. Slowly shaking her head, answering his question while his mind was racing away with him. “Well, I will have to go and get some.” Heading back to the door, “And make that meal.” With a cautioning look at her, he pulled the door away from the frame to slip through and placing it back in position behind him.

Looking over the dilapidated building, he knew that he could not and would not step away from her now. He had made a promise to protect and help Fyfa, and he would be damned if she did not allow him to do so now. He had made his choice and nothing was going to stop that from happening. She was going to realise that he did not have the role of Camdyn second just because they were as close as brothers. No, he had earned every inch of the role he had taken on. And she was about to see why.

Shock. She was in shock, she was sure of it. She could not snap herself out of it. Not only had the man destroyed part of her home, but had promised to fix the damage. And while doing so had given her food. Well, rather he had forced food upon her, while telling her what he was going to do. She had no idea why she had not argued with him. Why had she let him take over? She could not say. If he had gone about things as he had before, softly and asking permission she had the chance to refuse. And took that chance at any opportunity. If he had left the food at her door, she could not find it within her to reject it, almost as an offering. But this? This was completely unexpected.

He had come in and ordered her about as if she had been one of his warriors upon the battle field. And as they followed his ever command, she had found herself moving and sitting with his orders.

Shaking herself out of the mood she was in, she looked down at the bundle within her arms. Moving cautiously as if the package would cause her harm. She undid the knot that held the top together.

Overwhelmed. It was as if he was still crowding her. Before her was a plethora of decadence. She had not seen such good quality food outside of the Keep. Even other villagers were coming to the point where they were starting to pick off the mould that had started to spread. This food was as if it was straight from the harvest. She had known Hamish’s mother, had seen how others had gone to her for advice on certain things. Being too young when her mother had died, she did not fully comprehend what his mother could do. But she remembered him as a boy, helping his mother with stocking their larder area for winter.

She had sat with her mother, holding onto the skirts before her, as Hamish had stood in the background awaiting what to do next to help his mother out. As she had taken the time to converse, leaving him to complete the task she had set, looking as if she never worried he would do anything wrong. It was obvious, whatever those secrets Hamish still kept them. And right now she could be nothing but grateful for that. Not that she had much choice in the matter though.

Spreading the material on the table before her, the food seemed to tumble in a pile in the middle. How could he give so much? She could not accept it. And yet, she knew he would not let her give any back. He was a protector. She was not going to win in a war of words this time. He had laid his battle lines, and she had no defence against him.

Looking down at her father, she had to wonder. What could he possibly see in her? Why would he help her in the slightest? She was nothing, many had shown her that over the years. But he saw her.

Elbows on knees and head in hands she took deep breaths. He was ruining the plan. She could not go against him. She was losing the power to fight, and now she had someone to make decisions for her, she could see herself allowing it. She could not win a battle against a seasoned warrior. One with experience planning the strategy that had won the clan countless battles.

She had to come up with a defence, and it had to be good. She did not know how she could keep her identity if she allowed him to take over in the way he wanted. She had not let that happen when her mother died. Or when her father had turned to drink. She would not let it happen now. That was a promise she was making, and she would not started breaking her promises now.