The Highlander's Forbidden Bride by Donna Fletcher

heavily. And the steady accumulation made certain they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. You would think that they would grow tired of each other’s company since they were far from friends, but they never seemed to lack for conversation, or a good debate. And more often than not, and to Ronan’s dismay, Carissa could be found wrapped in his arms in the morning.
    Lately, Carissa had begun to ask him about his childhood, and he had to admit he enjoyed revisiting it.
    “So being the youngest of four brothers, they picked on you?” Carissa asked, as they sat in front of the hearth after supper.
    “They tried”—he smiled—“but I outwitted them most of the time.”
    “You played them against each other,” she said with a laugh.
    Ronan chuckled. “They were so gullible. It was easy, except for Cavan. He allowed me to have myfun, but he was well aware of what I was up to.”
    “You admire him.”
    “And I respect him.” He frowned. “He nearly gave his life for me and lived through a year of hell because of me.”
    “Not because of you,” she corrected, “ for you .”
    His frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
    “My father thought him a fool for turning back to try to save you when it was obvious the battle was lost and you captured. And yet Cavan rode into certain capture or possibly death to try to save you.”
    “My fault,” he said, with an angry pound to his chest. “I called out to him like a coward.”
    “You cried out to a brother who had never failed you, and so you believed was your only hope. And he, as a loving brother, returned for you, not because of you, not because you called out, but for you …his youngest brother, who he could not, or would not, leave behind.”
    “He should have left me.”
    “Would you have left him?” she asked.
    “Never,” Ronan said without thinking.
    “See,” Carissa boasted, “you both think the same and therefore would react the same. You and Cavan are more similar than either of you realize, and far different from your other brothers.”
    The realization made Ronan wonder if Cavan carried as much guilt around with him as he himself did? He had dreaded, but also ached to reunite with his family. All this time he believed he had failed Cavan. When he had come upon his brothersat the entrance to the village Black, joy and terror had gripped him.
    What did he say to Cavan? How would Cavan react to his return? And again he believed he had taken the coward’s way out. He had simply walked past them without letting them know who he was. And what had Cavan done when Artair asked the logical question of why he hadn’t announced himself immediately? Not only had Cavan made a plausible excuse for him, he had let him know that he was leaving Carissa’s fate in Ronan’s hands.
    Cavan had even let him know that they would talk later, and Ronan wished his brother was here right now, for there was much that had to be said between them.
    “You would think that since you and Cavan are so much alike, that Artair and Lachlan would be similar.” Carissa shook her head. “But they seem nothing alike.”
    That brought a grin to Ronan’s face. “That’s for certain. Artair relies on his pragmatic nature, while Lachlan on his charm.” He laughed. “And Cavan always knew exactly how to handle each of them.”
    “Just like you.”
    “That’s because I watched my big brother and learned.”
    “As Cavan does with people,” she said. “He watches, studies them. You can see it in the way his dark eyes survey everything around him. By the way, I noticed that your three brothers have brown eyes while you have green.”
    “I get the distinguishing color from my mother,” he said.
    “If her eyes are anything like yours, they must be beautiful.”
    “My mother is beautiful, but she taught me that true beauty comes from a loving nature. And I discovered how true her words were.”
    “Are you telling me I’m not beautiful?” she asked with a sharp