“I thought you dead. When they told me you were gone, I looked. I waited. But when you didn’t return, I thought you were dead.”

Keeley’s face crinkled in confusion. “Who did you speak with? I am fit as you can see.”

“The women and men I sent to your cottage to ensure your well-being. How did you arrive here? What is it you’re doing on McCabe land? It’s been months since you were last seen at your cottage.”

Keeley stared warily at the other woman, unsure of how to respond. “ ’Tis where I am welcome.”

A spasm of pain crossed Rionna’s face. A McDonald man appeared in the distance and shouted Rionna’s name.

“The laird is looking for you. He wants you present for the breaking of fast.”

Rionna’s hands curled into tight balls. She glanced back at Keeley and then to her father’s man. “I must go. I would see you later. I have much to say to you.”

Without further explanation, Rionna turned and hurried back toward the keep. Keeley watched her go, her stomach in knots. Her emotions were such a mass of uncertainty. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around Rionna and hug her senseless. Tell her how much she missed her childhood friend and tell her how beautiful she’d grown.

The other part wanted to demand an explanation. The hurt she thought she’d long buried bubbled to the surface. Maybe she would never be able to forget or forgive being forced from the only life and protection she knew.

She sighed and turned back to the loch. She walked to the edge and stared, mesmerized, into the crystal clear waters. She loved the water. It absorbed the moods and whims of nature and cast them onto the surface for all to see. ’Twas freeing, that. No pretending. No hiding. Just a reflection of what boiled right below the surface.

For how long she stood there, she wasn’t certain. She stared across the loch, lost in her thoughts and the constant aching in her heart.

“ ’Tis too cold a morn for a lass to be outdoors as long as you have,” Gannon said gently.

She turned, startled by the warrior’s presence. She hadn’t heard him approach, but she’d been too absorbed with other matters.

She smiled faintly. “ ’Tis the truth I’ve no awareness of the cold.”

“ ’Tis even worse then for you’ll not know when you’ve grown too cold.”

She wanted to ask him if Alaric had sent him, but she refused to speak his name. She had vowed to remain stoic, even if it killed her.

“ ’Tis a beautiful morn,” she said conversationally. “The snows are nearly gone. ’Tis not usually so warm this time of year.”

“Aye, but it’s still too cold for a lass such as yourself to be out alone without proper clothing.”