Tempest Heart - Paula Quinn Page 0,51

said.

So, it was just Jones who would give him trouble. He had to hurry up and mend. Every moment that he was away from Rose grated on his nerves more.

He had to stay detached and not grow fond of Jones or anyone else he would likely have to kill. Jones wouldn’t stand around while Tristan revealed who he was and possibly went after the earl.

Sadly, Tristan might have to kill him. But first, he had to recover and find out for certain if Rose had been taken home. He wasn’t sure how he would do it, and then he thought of his uncle’s tale. Aye, King Arthur would help.

They rode on with Tristan filling the afternoon with tales of the noble king and his knights.

They reached the gates of Callanach Castle a few moments before the sun set over the western mountain range.

“Well, Jones, this is where we part ways.” Tristan didn’t expect to be invited inside. As a matter of fact, he didn’t want to go inside. He’d be a fool if he put himself at the mercy of the earl’s guards on the other side of the gates. He would find out about Rose and then go to the nearest inn to recover. “I do have one favor to ask though.”

“What is it?” Jones asked.

He laughed at himself and shook his head. “I am a romantic at heart. If the woman you were searching for is safe inside, have her step out into the lookout tower. ’Twill give me something to think about when I get back home.”

Jones laughed and then agreed. Tristan decided he’d gone out of his mind over this lass. He was in trouble. She had him rethinking everything, including how he earned his coin.

He waited while the heavy gate was opened, and Jones stepped inside. He scanned the surrounding area, taking note of trees and overlapping branches. He could climb up and see over the gate—see what she was doing. If he fell in his weakened condition, he would die. Oh well! What was life without some risks?

He looked up at the torchlit tower and thought about his decision to let her know he was here. She cared for him, despite who he was. He knew she did. She would want to know he was alive. Mayhap, she could prepare her father.

He waited while the sun went down, until she appeared surrounded by torchlight, like a dream come to life. She looked down at him. Could she see him? She lifted her hands to her heart. He did the same, and then he turned his horse away and rode into the darkness.

She meant too much to him. He could tell by how utterly relieved he was to see her. She was safe! It was all that mattered. He could breathe and recover—and be with her again.

But, oh, what kind of pitiful sot was he? If his men ever saw him like this—he shook his head, willing it not to happen. He didn’t recognize himself. Who was he? He didn’t care. He only cared that she was well.

He had to get inside, and he would. But first, he would rest and dream about a fair maiden locked away in a tower, with only him to save her.

And save her, he would.

Rose clung to the railing in the tower and looked out over the side to watch him leave.

When Jones had come home and told her to go to the lookout tower, she never imagined she would see Tristan below. But it was him! He was alive! Handsome and dark with blazing eyes. She was so happy to see him she didn’t realize the danger it presented. The truth of it all settled on her now though—especially when she turned to see Captain Harper coming to stand next to her.

“Who was it?” he asked. Then, when she didn’t answer, he added, “I see.”

“He left,” Rose told him. When she turned to look at him, he was gone. She saw him hurrying back inside the castle and followed him. What was he doing? Was he going to tell her father?

They met Jones on his way up on the second landing. “Did you see him?” he asked Rose with a smile.

The captain pushed her out of the way and grabbed Jones by the collar. “What did you tell him? What did he say?”

“What do you mean what did I tell him? Why would I tell him anything? He is a shepherd from the western hills. He has a