The Return E-Book

J.L. Jarvis

• Herausgeber: Bookbinder Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Highland Soldiers
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 222

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

His battle-scarred heart stands in the way of a love that could heal him.

Scottish Highlander Alex MacDonell returns home from fighting for clan and king to discover that the girl he once hunted and fished with has become an intriguing young woman. Kenna has adored him for years, but he always treated her like a little sister. When her own brother dies from battle wounds, Kenna is left with no family or home.

Alex would love Kenna if he could, but recurring nightmares of acts he committed while hunting down Covenanters now haunt his days and nights. When Kenna comes too close to his heart, he pushes her out of his life—and unwittingly into the arms of another. Too late, he regrets his impulsive actions. Now he must fight to win her back before she weds another and is lost to him forever.

Leseprobe

His battle-scarred heart stands in the way of a love that could heal him.

Scottish Highlander Alex MacDonell returns home from fighting for clan and king to discover that the girl he once hunted and fished with has become an intriguing young woman. Kenna has adored him for years, but he always treated her like a little sister. When her own brother dies from battle wounds, Kenna is left with no family or home.

Alex would love Kenna if he could, but recurring nightmares of acts he committed while hunting down Covenanters now haunt his days and nights. When Kenna comes too close to his heart, he pushes her out of his life—and unwittingly into the arms of another. Too late, he regrets his impulsive actions. Now he must fight to win her back before she weds another and is lost to him forever.

Book 3 in the Highland Soldiers series

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Also by J.L. Jarvis

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The Cottage at Peregrine Cove

The House on Serenity Lake

Moonlight on Mariner’s Bluff

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(Reading Order)

1 Love in the Time of Pumpkins

2 Secrets in the Hollow

3 Shadow of the Horseman

Standalones

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A Christmas Eve Stop

Christmas by Lamplight

A Kiss in the Rain

App-ily Ever After

Once Upon a Winter

The Red Rose

Highland Vow

Short Stories

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Seasons of Love: A Short Story Collection

The Eleventh-Hour Pact

A Christmas Yarn

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Work-Crush Balance

Cedar Creek

(Can be read in any order)

Christmas at Cedar Creek

Snowstorm at Cedar Creek

Sunlight on Cedar Creek

Pine Harbor

1 Allison’s Pine Harbor Summer

2 Evelyn’s Pine Harbor Autumn

3 Lydia’s Pine Harbor Christmas

Holiday House

(Can be read in any order)

The Christmas Cabin

The Winter Lodge

The Lighthouse

The Christmas Castle

The Beach House

The Christmas Tree Inn

The Holiday Hideaway

Highland Passage

(Can be read in any order)

Highland Passage

Knight Errant

Lost Bride

Highland Soldiers

1 The Enemy

2 The Betrayal

3 The Return

4 The Wanderer

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Secret Hearts

Forbidden Hearts

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For more information, visit jljarvis.com.

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The Return

Highland Soldiers 3

J.L. Jarvis

THE RETURN

Highland Soldiers 3

Copyright © 2014 J.L. Jarvis

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

ISBN (ebook) 978-0-9906476-2-1

ISBN (paperback) 978-0-9906476-3-8

ISBN (audiobook) 978-1-942767-30-5

Published by BookbinderPress.com

Contents

1. The Soldier’s Return

2. The Lesson

3. The Encumbrance

4. Words and Deeds

5. The Dance

6. Two Dreamers

7. Broken Dreams

8. Safe and Secure

9. The Promise

10. The Solicitor

11. The Battlefield

12. Between Hope and Despair

13. Matter of Trust

14. The Reivers

15. In the Firelight

16. The Journey Home

17. The Visit

18. To Hope

19. The Sheriff’s Court

Thank You!

The Highland Soldiers Series

Book News

About the Author

Chapter1

The Soldier’s Return

Autumn 1680

“Poor man, look at you!” Mari called from the foot of the stairs. Her deep-brown hair was pulled back into a knot at the base of her neck, and her gray dress was fitted and plain. The morning light from the window above caught her moss-green eyes and her warm, gentle smile. “You must have been tired.”

Alex’s gaze softened as he combed his fingers through his wild, sand-colored hair. “Aye, hen, I was. Thank you for letting me sleep here. I’ll not have so nice a bed waiting at home.”

“Oh, but you will. I’ve sent two maids over to make your house ready.” She turned and began dusting a table.

“Och, you’re too good to me, Mari. Callum doesnae deserve you. I, on the other hand, do.” He winked. “And you! You deserve a braw, charming laddie like me.” He arrived at the bottom step and leaned his brawny frame over the rail as though he might kiss her.

Mari swatted him with her dust cloth. “And you deserve something, but I’ll not tell you what.”

“I will.” Callum strode in, tall and robust, with his dark hair tied back. He went straight to Mari, took the dust cloth from her hand, and set it on the hall table, out of her reach, with a warm but admonishing smile.

Mari smiled in return, a tinge of guilt in her eyes.

Callum’s eyes flickered toward Alex. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s being himself.”

Not surprised and just slightly amused, Callum looked at Alex then turned his dark eyes to his wife. “I’ve been trying to cure him of that since we were lads.”

“I’ve nae doubt, but there’s no hope for that one.” Mari shook her head and smiled as she walked down the hall toward the kitchen. “You’re both hungry, I’m guessing?” When they entered the kitchen, Mari began cooking the eggs she had brought in earlier from the byre.

“And just where are the servants I employ to do the cooking and cleaning?” asked Callum.

Mari shrugged. “I sent them on a wee errand. They’ll be back soon.”

“An errand? What errand?”

Mari tilted her head and exhaled. “If you must know, I sent them to Alex’s house.”

Callum folded his arms and glared at his friend. “Alex’s house.”

Alex shrugged innocently, and Mari rushed to his defense. “Dinnae blame him. It was my idea.”

Alex smiled warmly at Mari and winked.

Callum sat at the long wooden table and breathed in the aroma of Mari’s cooking. “Alex, now that you’re home, perhaps it’s time you stop flirting with my wife and find one of your own.”

“Flirting?” Alex feigned innocence, but with a gleam in his eye. “Mari, was I flirting with you?”

Mari went on cooking and answered over her shoulder, “No, Alex. You were simply doing your best to vex Callum.”

Alex laughed. “Och, Mari, now you’ve just made it worse.”

Callum leaned back with a smug grin. “I cannae be vexed when I feel so sorry for you.”

“Oh? Well, I thank you for that.” Alex narrowed his eyes.

Mari spoke in an overly casual tone while she worked at the stove. “Alex, you remember Kenna, do you not?”

When Alex didn’t answer right away, Callum said, “Her land borders yours.”

Alex shrugged and leaned his sturdy arms on the table. “Aye, the wee lass who used to go along with the boys when we hunted and fished.”

Callum folded his arms and leaned back, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankle. “She hunted and fished as well as any of us—and as I recall, better than you.” He raised an eyebrow at Alex.

Annoyed, Alex scowled. “Once or twice, perhaps—when I was ill. But neither woman nor man can match me, and you ken it.”

Callum let out a disparaging laugh. “I ken naught of the kind. But I will tell you this: that wee lass you speak of has grown up a bit.”

Mari’s faint smile faded. “Her brother’s been ailing since he came home from the fighting.”

Alex balked. “He had a wee scratch.”

Mari said, “His wee scratch has festered, and it willnae heal. Kenna’s tending to him and doesnae want to leave him alone. Would you mind stopping by to see if she needs anything?”

Alex stole a glance to be sure Callum was watching then offered his most charming look, his green eyes dancing. “For you, Mari, aye.”

Callum grunted a good-natured warning to Alex while Mari set down a plate full of bannocks and smiled at her husband. Alex grabbed one and took a bite.

Mari said, “Do you think I’ll have time to get you your own plate before you’re through eating?”

Alex stopped, mouth full, and swallowed. “Sorry, hen. I’m a loathsome beast.”

“You are,” she agreed but with a hint of a smile. “But you’re our loathsome beast, and we love you.”

Minutes later, Alex was eagerly eating his first homemade meal in weeks. Mari and Callum became absorbed in a discussion about an upcoming party while Alex’s mind wandered, and with it went his false cheer.

Mari noticed and kept glancing over, increasingly troubled, until Callum put his hand over hers and gave his head a slight shake to signal her not to pursue it. As Mari rose, her chair scraped over the wood floor and forced Alex back from his thoughts.

He said, “I must be on my way now.” He stood and shook Callum’s hand and gave Mari a hug as he thanked her and left.

* * *

As much as Alex treasured his friends, trying to be the same Alex they knew took wearying effort. He was no longer that man. Sometimes he thought that his heart had grown cold from the things he had seen, but the nightmares always came back and forced him to feel the same jarring emotions. Soldiers always saw things in battle, but this had been worse, for their fight had gone into homes.

Once more, the Covenanter family flashed through his mind as he’d seen them that day and would forever remember them. Oh, the man had been guilty, and yes, the Highland Host possessed legal authority to do what they had done and continued to do. Extrajudicial executions saved time and sent a strong message. But it was Alex who had fired the shot, and it was his ears that echoed with the wife’s wretched sob. The faces of the children as they watched the blood drain from their father would haunt him the most. Alex had followed his orders and served his king well. Alex MacDonell was a soldier, and a good one.

Too late, he realized that he should have come home from the lowlands with Callum and Mari. After Duncan and his wife had gone to Ireland and made a home there, Callum and Mari, along with most of the Highlanders, had gone home. But Alex and Charlie stayed on for no better reason than the pay and the women. It now seemed like such a long time since he and Charlie had caroused with no cares. Once they were assigned to John Graham of Claverhouse, 1st Viscount Dundee, everything changed. Before long, Dundee would be better known as Bloody Clavers.

But that was in the past, where Alex needed to keep it. He was home in the Highlands, where he would rebuild his life.

His home wasn’t far from Callum and Mari’s, but he had arrived late at night. Bone tired, he had stopped for a drink and accepted the offer to sleep in Callum’s fine home before completing his journey. In truth, Alex had not been in a hurry to go home, for it was full of memories he wasn’t ready to face. The family he had loved there was gone.

Alex passed Mari’s maids, who were on their way home on foot, and he thanked them for cleaning his house. Judging by their flirtatious grins, they were more than happy to help in that and other ways—an idea to which Alex was not necessarily averse. But that would have to wait for another day, for he longed to finish his journey. He stopped at a crossroads and sat astride his horse, gazing at his home. It wouldn’t be the same. Smallpox had swept through and taken his parents and sister before he’d gone away. Barely a home had been left untouched. He had one brother left, who now lived at the castle. Callum’s father, the chief, had taken him in and would train him, as he had Alex.

He took in the sight of his empty home. Shaded by large oaks, it looked over the loch. Alex took in a deep breath, then he headed the opposite way toward the humble McCowan farm. He arrived at the open doorway and stopped. The fire had dwindled to embers, leaving the smell of burnt peat rising in ribbons of smoke to waft over the unnatural stillness. On the bed lay Roddy McCowan, and on the floor beside him sat Kenna, holding her brother’s hand to her tear-stained cheek. Russet hair fell in thick waves over shoulders clad in a white linen nightdress.

Reluctant to disturb her, but also not wanting to startle her, Alex quietly said, “Kenna.”

She flinched and turned. But beyond the initial recognition of her name, her pale-gray eyes seemed hollow and lost. She turned back to her brother. Soft wisps of hair brushed her face, and Alex felt an impulse to brush them away just to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked. But in the midst of the thought, he sensed something was wrong. He stepped closer until he could see Roddy’s face. He had watched too many men die in battle not to recognize the look of a man whose spirit had gone.

Alex lifted a quilt from another bed and tenderly wrapped it over Kenna’s shoulders. She stiffened for a fleeting moment then clutched the folds of the quilt to her face and trembled as she silently wept. Alex crouched beside her, but she turned from him to blot her face and try to regain control of herself.

He gave her shoulder a tender squeeze. “It’s all right to cry.”

Kenna lifted her shining eyes to meet his, and the aching sorrow there struck him like a blow to the chest. Without thought, he swept her into his arms, or perhaps she flew to him. The movement was too fast and instinctive to say. He just knew that he wanted to take all her grief and carry its weight. She was too gentle to bear such a burden.

She felt so cold. Alex unclasped the brooch on his shoulder and loosened his plaid to wrap it around Kenna. She relaxed against him as she leaned her forehead against his chest and sobbed.

Alex was content just to hold her and help her to let out her grief. Shifting the weight from his knees, he sat on the floor with her on his lap. He held her as one might hold a child, which was how he had always regarded her. She had been like a sister to all of them over the years, but the soft curves of her body pressed against his made him all too aware that she had grown to a woman. His body responded to hers.

Grief had torn down the walls of propriety, leaving Kenna’s emotions exposed. In that state, she clung to Alex. Seeking closeness was a natural instinct when the death of a loved one was so new and raw. Grief opened the soul and left it unprotected and desperate for comfort. In the absence of true intimacy, passion was often enough to assuage the first throes of grief as if, by clinging to life, one could block out the still vivid face of death. Alex knew that firsthand. He’d seen many men fresh from battle find solace in the arms of a willing woman.

But that knowledge should have put Alex on his guard. When Kenna put her arms around his neck and her cheek brushed his lips, he stopped thinking. His lips sought hers in a way they had no right to do. And he kissed her. The first time could have been excused as accidental—perhaps even chaste. But her lips parted, and their next kiss was anything but innocent.

Their actions were understandable for Kenna, but unforgivably selfish of Alex. She was in shock and bereft and would naturally cling to what comfort she found, but Alex had no excuse. It was one thing for a soldier to go to a brothel after battle, whether for the release of unspeakable strain, for comfort, or to simply escape. But to seize a friend’s vulnerable moment of grief was contemptible.

He pulled away and held her face while he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not!”

She tried to kiss him again, but he gripped her shoulders and pushed her away. Her soft gray eyes pleaded for comfort that he dared not give. She tugged at his soul. He had always enjoyed women—at times too much for his own good—but he had never been a vile rogue. Kenna stirred his desire, but she stirred his heart too, which was a new sensation for him. So as she searched his eyes with unabashed longing, Alex kissed her again, and he let his hands claim her body. Each touch made him ache to get closer. His nerves pulsed with desire that, moments ago, he had been determined to resist.

Alex stood abruptly, breathing deeply and shaking his head. “This is not what you need.”

“How do you ken what I need?”

Her wounded expression struck a sharper blow than any he’d felt from a dirk, but he turned from her nevertheless. As he walked through the doorway, her words rang in his ears.

“Alex, don’t leave me alone.”

* * *

Several days later, the men buried Roddy in the hillside graveyard alongside Kenna’s mother and father. She was now the only one of their family left behind with the living. As was the custom, the women did not attend the burial but stayed behind and prepared for the feast that would follow. Kenna cooked into the late afternoon until one of the older women from the village sent her outside for some air. When she stepped through the doorway, she saw Alex sitting on a bench near the door.

When he saw her, he stood. “They’re burying him now. I was worried about you, so I came back ahead of the others.”

Kenna started to say something, but Mari called for Kenna and appeared on the threshold in search of her.

“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” Mari looked from one to the other. The tension between them was palpable. “Aye, I can see that I am.” She disappeared inside the cottage.

Kenna returned his gaze with a blank expression then followed Mari inside.

“I’m sorry,” said Mari.

Kenna said, “Dinnae be. It was nothing.”

Mari eyed her skeptically. “Are you all right?”

“Aye,” she answered without thinking. “Well, no. ’Tis a hard thing to lose a brother. We grew up together. We played, and we fought. When everyone else was gone and we had only each other, we promised we would never leave one another alone. But promises get broken, and people are left to go on.” Kenna had already run out of tears.

Mari glanced about the small cottage and clasped Kenna’s hand. “Why don’t you come stay with us for a while?”

“That’s kind of you, but I’ll be fine.” Kenna smiled warmly.

Mari nodded. “I understand. Just know that if you change your mind, we’re not far away.”

“Thank you.” Kenna’s eyes shone with her last remnants of tears.

In the gloaming, guests shifted from eating to drinking, and Kenna drifted away for a moment alone. Away from the house and beyond the byre was an oak large enough to hide behind, which she often had done as a child. Too late, she discovered that someone else had had the same idea.

“Alex.”

“Aye.”

After the moment it took her to recover, she said, “I’m sorry,” and spun to walk back to the house.

“Don’t go.” He grasped her upper arm.

Her breath caught for a moment, but she managed to say, “I recall saying the same to you once, but you left anyway—as will I.” She pulled away, but he held fast.

“Kenna, wait. I’m sorry.”

In the midst of the grief she was drowning in, his words held little power. For a long while, all she could do was stare at him. “What is it you want? Whatever it is, I have nothing left, so please leave me alone.”

In an instant, he released her. “The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“And yet it’s the first thing you do every time.” Kenna went back to the cottage.

* * *

The next afternoon, Kenna stood in Callum and Mari’s front hallway with a bundle in her hand. Mari hastened to welcome her.

Kenna said, “May I take you up on your offer to visit for a few days?”

“Of course! I’m so glad you’re here!” She took Kenna’s bundle of clothing and handed it to a housemaid with instructions to take it to a guest room. Then Mari hooked her arm in Kenna’s and led her to the drawing room.

Kenna saw Callum first as he sat facing the fire, then two men stood and turned toward them. Alex’s eyes darted from Mari to Kenna, where they remained focused upon her.

Mari turned to Kenna. “Callum and Alex have just come back from fishing, so we’ll have a fine feast for supper.”

Kenna’s cheeks, still flushed from her vigorous ride in the crisp autumn air, reddened more as Alex greeted her with a marked reserve. Mari shot her husband a glance but got an unhelpful shrug. Doing her best to hide her dismay, Kenna forced a small nod for the two men. A chill wind from the north couldn’t have done a better job at bringing conversation to a halt.

Mari broke the uncomfortable silence. “Callum, I’m having second thoughts about what to serve with the salmon.”

He frowned as if she had gone mad.

“I need your advice. Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

He opened his mouth, but the pointed look she shot at him stopped him. He rose to go with her, offering a quiet, “Excuse me.”

He needn’t have bothered—neither guest seemed aware he had said it. Kenna appeared frozen where Mari had left her.

“Please sit down.” Alex offered his seat.

Kenna absently thanked him and sat. Drawn to the warmth of the fire and away from Alex, she stared at the flames.

He glanced toward the door, which Mari had discreetly closed. “Kenna, I’m sorry. When I first saw you, we were both in shock and not thinking. Forgive me.”

“Of course.” Her voice sounded sweet, but her manner was icy.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve been on my mind.”

For the first time since she walked in, Kenna let her eyes drift to his. She may as well have looked into the sun for the burning pain he brought her.

Alex leaned in closer. “I’ve thought about you—worried—these past days, but I thought calling on you would only make it worse.”

With a nod, Kenna looked away. Her emotions were caught in her throat, and she knew speaking would only advertise those feelings she wanted to hide. Alex laid his hand on the arm of her chair—so close she felt the heat of his body but not close enough for his warmth to surround her. She longed to lean into it.

He said, “I hope we can be friends like we once were.”

“Were we ever friends?” It came out almost a whisper.

“Well, not like Callum and the other lads, but I’d like to think that we were—and still are. Please look upon me as your friend.”

“I will try.”

The fact that he had said it so kindly made her ache even more, for Alex had no idea how much she had always loved him. Long before Roddy’s death, he had broken her heart, and his kissing her had merely opened the wound. His every effort toward kindness only hurt more. He would keep hurting her without ever realizing it.

* * *

Alex and Callum went fishing again in the morning, leaving Kenna and Mari alone for breakfast.

Mari took a sip then set down her teacup. “I might be overstepping, but has Alex wronged you somehow? I couldn’t help but notice a tension between you last night.”

Kenna wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t lie to Mari. Since Mari’s arrival at Invergarry, they had become friends, and she knew she could trust Mari to keep a confidence. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“But there’s something between you.”

“No, not really.” As she said it, she recalled the feel of his lips when he kissed her. “I’m afraid it was all my doing. One day I was a girl following the boys so I could do the fun things they did, and the next I became a young woman. But no one noticed, least of all Alex, because by then I was one of the lads. I’m not even sure when it happened, but at some point, I let myself love him. I knew that he felt nothing for me, but I hoped with the fervor of a person too young to know that hope comes in finite amounts. Does anyone understand that before it’s too late? I suppose I broke my own heart—a wiser girl would have guarded herself from such feelings.”

Mari fixed her soft gaze on her friend. “And you love him still?”

Kenna shook her head. “I didnae think that I did. While he was gone, I convinced myself that those feelings were over.”

“And then he came back.” Mari sighed in sympathy. “Feelings can change.”

Kenna said, “Not his.”

Mari stared at her teacup. “I got to know Alex when he and the lads served under Callum. But of course you know that. I believe I know Alex quite well. He’s full of mischief sometimes—or rather, he used to be. Since he’s come home, he’s been different. But he has a good heart.”

Kenna nodded. “Aye, he does, and I ken it would sorely grieve him to think that he’d hurt me.”

Mari continued, “And that heart has a soft spot for you. I see it when he looks at you.”

“Aye. But you see, there are all kinds of love; my heart wants the one that it cannae have.”

“For now, perhaps.”

Kenna shook her head. “The night before they all left for the lowlands, everyone gathered to wish them well.” Kenna’s eyes shone as she recalled it. “What a fine evening it was! All moon and stars in a dark blanket of sky, and the fire glowed as the men danced the sword dance. Then everyone danced, and music filled the air and our hearts, and it felt like the souls of our people were joined. I’d never wanted to dance before then, so I’d never learned how. But then, all I wanted was to be close to him. A dance would have given me that chance.