Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,118
her mother chided. “I’ve never failed in a task I set my mind to. If I were you, I’d be packing my belongings for the return trip to Montgomery Keep. I wager I’ll have your father talked around in less than a day.”
CHAPTER 47
“Bowen, the McInnises approach!”
Bowen stopped in mid-swing and nearly lost his arm when the warrior with whom he was sparring nearly didn’t halt his advance. The warrior blanched and hastily backed away, horrified at what he’d almost done. But Bowen wasn’t paying him the least bit of attention.
He whirled to see Rorie standing a few paces away, her eyes dancing with glee. The lass was nearly beside herself.
“Do not jest with me,” he warned.
“ ’Tis not a jest! The word was just delivered to Graeme. He comes to tell you himself, but I overheard and ran to tell you.”
He pushed down his excitement. It might be nothing more than Genevieve’s father paying a visit. But why? He couldn’t allow himself to think that he would see Genevieve, because the disappointment would be crushing.
He’d only half existed in the time she had been gone from Montgomery Keep. The weeks had seemed like years, and he threw himself into training. His men avoided him. No one volunteered to spar with him, and his family despaired of him.
He was as a wounded wild animal seeking only to be left alone to nurse his injuries. He’d noticed the looks cast his way by Graeme and even Rorie. Eveline’s gaze was filled with sympathy, but even she stayed out of his path.
He knew he was hard to live with and not fit company for anyone, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t miserable.
He sheathed his sword and dismissed the warrior, who looked only too happy to take his leave. Then he turned to Rorie.
“Tell me all.”
Rorie wiggled in her excitement, a broad smile on her face. “A messenger arrived just a few minutes past, bearing word that the McInnises will arrive within the hour. They’re coming, Bowen!”
“ ’Tis possible Genevieve did not accompany them,” Bowen said softly.
Rorie snorted. “What purpose would they have in coming here if Genevieve were not with them?”
Bowen remained silent, refusing to give voice to his hopes. Without a word, he strode toward the guard tower and climbed the steps to the top so he could have a bird’s-eye view of their approach.
A moment later, Graeme arrived to stand beside him.
“I see Rorie found you first,” he said dryly.
“She told me the McInnises approach. Have you any other information?”
Graeme shook his head. “The missive was short. They told of their arrival and requested our hospitality.”
Bowen blew out his breath in frustration. What if she hadn’t accompanied them? And why had they traveled to Montgomery Keep?
The questions burned in his mind, and he stood there, silent and brooding, as he waited for the first sign of their approach.
He stood there an hour, his gaze locked to the horizon. And then the first rider appeared, bearing the McInnis banner. His pulse kicked up and his breathing became more rapid. He leaned forward over the tower, straining to see each rider as they gradually came into sight.
His hands curled around the stone ledge and his jaw was locked. He was so tense that his muscles protested, but his entire being was on alert for that first sign of Genevieve.
“There is no litter,” Graeme observed, as more McInnis warriors poured over the hillside.
Bowen’s heart sank. He sagged, his body going slack as grief filled his heart all over again. He took a step back, prepared to descend the tower and retreat into the keep. Graeme could keep up the social niceties and discern the purpose of the visit.
As he started to turn away, one rider broke from the pack. The horse galloped forward at a faster clip than the others, and it was then he saw the long brown hair streaming behind her like a beacon.
His breath caught and he swayed and gripped the ledge to steady himself. His legs had gone so weak that he wasn’t sure they would hold him up.
Genevieve.
Beside him Graeme grinned and slapped him on the back.
“What are you waiting for? Go and greet your lass.”
Bowen bolted from the tower, nearly tripping in his haste to descend the stairs. He hit the courtyard at a dead run and bolted, racing across the rolling terrain as Genevieve bore down on him on horseback.
She pulled up a short distance away and slid from her saddle with a haste that