Captured Heart by Heather McCollum

Caden’s father and could bellow just as loud.
    Caden frowned at them in silence. Inside, he counted to ten in Latin.
    “We are your council, Caden,” Ancient Kenneth reminded him. “We should know your rationale.”
    “I didn’t have time to bicker over details when the lass lay up there dying, so I promised it, and I would do it again. Rachel Munro saved Meg, and without the English girl we’d have nothing to bargain with.” Bloody hell! He protected what was his. He wouldn’t allow Meg to die.
    “Aye, but to have the witch herself, now that would get Alec Munro over here quick,” Bruce said, as he pulled on his gray-streaked beard. “I’m surprised that we haven’t seen his ugly face yet.”
    “Rachel must have lied to him about her whereabouts. That devil would not have let her come here in the middle of the night,” Angus answered.
    All three old men nodded in unison.
    Caden regarded them as they washed down several more swigs of ale. He waited. The three old warriors knew well that their chief could just walk past them without a word. Yet he never had. He’d always shown them respect, even if he didn’t follow all their commands. Which was just, because Caden was The Macbain, not they. He listened to their commands, but only issued his own. They respected him even if he was hellbent on peace.
    Bruce’s belch echoed in the empty hall.
    Kenneth set down his ale and wiped the thick scruff around his mouth with his sleeve. “So when do you plan on telling the English lass that she’s our prisoner?” His thick brow quirked slightly with a more personal question. “I hear she’s quite bonny. Your men seem foolish over her.” Kenneth had been Caden’s father’s second in command, and his cleverness uncovered all unspoken truths.
    Angus snorted and coughed. “Foolish youth.”
    “I will tell her soon,” Caden answered. “For now I need her cooperation, so no one is to treat her with anything but hospitality. For now she is a guest here at Druim, and so is Lady Munro.” He bowed slightly to the three warriors. “I must check on my men and their families.”
    Caden jogged down the steps and into the courtyard where his soldiers drilled. Caden wanted to drill with them, for it was easier than his intended course. He raised his hand as they hailed him. “Later,” he promised, and strode through the open gate of the bailey and down the short lane into the village.
    He knocked on the cottage closest to the keep. Bess Tammin stood at the door with her six-year-old son clinging to her skirts. She was a comely young widow who had lost her husband last year in a vicious raid with the Davidsons. Caden tipped his head to her and grinned at the boy.
    “Chief Macbain.” She stepped aside to allow him to enter. “Would you care for some ale or something hot, perhaps?”
    “I came to see if you were faring well, Bess, and Peter here.” Caden stooped to pull the boy’s hand so that he stepped away from his mama. “Seems you’re getting big and strong,” he said, despite the lad’s thin arms. How much thinner would he get this winter if his plan for peace didn’t work?
    Peter beamed up at Caden. “I can start training with the wooden swords in the spring,” he said, pride puffing up his small body.
    Caden studied him. “I can see a fierce warrior in you, Peter. I’ll be happy to add you to the ranks.” He tussled the boy’s shaggy head. He watched Bess, his face growing serious, though he kept a light tone. “You have enough food?”
    “We make do.” She reached out to touch Caden’s arm. “I hear you’ve returned with the Munro niece.” Hope lurked in her eyes as she pulled Peter back against her side.
    “Aye.”
    She rubbed her son’s arm. “Your plan will work, then. We can use her to bargain for our grain and cattle back?”
    Caden’s stomach clenched in the same tight ball he’d held inside since the mysterious fire that burned their fields. “I will find food for the