Under the Highlander's Spell by Donna Fletcher Page B

would return with Brute in a couple of days so she could make certain his wound was healing properly.
    Thomas thanked her with a big hug before he and the pup bounced off, sharing the biscuits.
    An old man hunched over from age shuffled into the cottage after Thomas left, and stopped when he spotted Artair. “Sorry, I thought when I saw Thomas leave that you were done. I will wait outside.”
    Zia went immediately to his side, her arm going around his frail shoulder. “No, Charles, I can see you now. This is Artair. He is Ronan’s brother.”
    â€œGood lad, Ronan,” Charles said as Zia guided him to a chair.
    â€œYou knew my brother?” Artair asked eagerly.
    â€œI visited him from time to time. Smart and curious.”
    â€œAbout what?” Artair asked.
    â€œJust about anything, though he showed a lot of interest in bows.”
    â€œCharles is Peter the bow maker’s father,” Zia said.
    â€œYou passed your skill on to your son,” Artair said.
    Charles nodded. “And he’s made a better bow maker than me.”
    â€œAnd Ronan was interested in bow making?” Artair asked.
    â€œWe spoke more about aim and accuracy. And how a skillful archer can hit his target even at distances thought impossible.”
    The old man was hit with a coughing fit, and Zia shooed Artair outside, though not before Artair told the man they’d speak again.
    Zia wasn’t surprised when almost an hour later Charles left the cottage and she saw Artair join the old man and follow alongside him talking. But then that was what he was there for, to find out all he could about his brother’s stay here. And many would have stories to share with him, for many had visited with Ronan.
    However, she didn’t know if any would be helpful to Artair, at least not helpful in the sense of what he searched for. Their stories wouldn’t tell Artair where his brother went, but they would help him to better understand his brother and what he had gone through, and she wondered if he would realize that.
    Several hours later Zia finished her duties and decided to dig up some woodland herbs to flavor that night’s fish. Bethane returned and suggested that she find Artair and ask him to help her.
    â€œMatchmaking, Grandmother?” she asked teasingly.
    Bethane grinned and placed a hand to her chest. “Me? Never!”
    â€œYou like him, don’t you?” Zia asked more seriously.
    â€œFrom what I see of him, yes.”
    â€œYou see more than most.”
    â€œI look deeper than most,” Bethane said. “But there is much on the surface of Artair that shows me he is a good man. Dig deeper and you will find even more sterling qualities.”
    â€œAre you suggesting I dig deeper?”
    She gave a wink. “Isn’t that what you’re about to do?”

Chapter 7
    A rtair walked through the village a bit surprised that so many had spoken with his brother. It was as if the whole village knew Ronan and had been concerned for him. Most commented on how worried he’d been over his brother Cavan, and how he missed his family. But he heard nothing that warranted Ronan’s sudden departure from the village.
    The only sensible answer was that he had been anxious to return home. He thought of sending a message to Cavan, alerting him to the possibility, but decided against it. His family had been disappointed too many times by false leads. And at the moment he had the strange feeling that his brother was running, but from whom and to where? He would investigate more before he shared any opinions with his brothers.
    Artair stopped, sensing Zia’s approach, then caught the familiar scent of her before hearing her footfalls. He shut his eyes and envisioned her. She’d be smiling; she always smiled. Even when she was tied to the stake bartering with him for her freedom, he had thoughthe detected a hint of a smile. And then there were her sparkling green eyes.