Once Upon A Highland Legend by Tanya Anne Crosby

the thought of conceiving their child didn’t stop her. In fact, she couldn’t imagine any greater bliss than carrying his baby home with her. She knew it couldn’t stop her from leaving. She had her own destiny to fulfill, and maybe, if she was very, very lucky, she could take a piece of him home with her to cherish.
    For Callum’s part, he showered her with small gifts—things he fashioned with his own two hands—for one, a brooch carved out of ash wood that bore the symbol of his house. He made it to keep his cloak fastened tightly around her shoulders—to cover the plummeting neckline of Kate’s blouse. Many of his kinswomen were dressed in far less, so she suspected it was his way of controlling his own temptation, and that knowledge pleased her. For once in her life, it felt good to be a bit of a temptress, and she had a sense for why Kate so often wielded her own sexuality like these men did their swords. This was the first time in Annie’s life she had ever cared about such a thing, and it was as though he spoke to some primal instinct in her. Even so, just when he could have had any time to create the brooch when he was supervising just about everything else in this valley, she had no clue. But there it was. Beautiful, delicate and probably the finest gift Annie had ever received.
    She watched the moon anxiously: It was waning, not waxing.
    By the end of the week, she looked much more like the other women of Callum’s clan. Dressed in her skirt, her untucked white blouse, she wore Callum’s cloak instead of her cheap poncho, clasped by his brooch at her throat. She was thinking less and less of the Winter Stone and more and more of what it might be like to spend her life with a man like Callum. There was something quite satisfying to waking up in his arms and seeing him go to work and return to her each and every night. There was no wondering about his intentions, no niggling suspicions about late nights at work, or sultry meetings of eyes that made her question his loyalties. He made himself clear in every aspect of his life. Annie was not to be disrespected, he’d demanded of his clansmen, and no one dared defy him—and his seductive looks were all for her and no one else.
    In the room they shared, she kept all her gifts from him in a single place, as though to keep them together so she could quickly pack them—as though she could take anything once she left this place. The truth was that Annie had arrived with nothing except what was on her person, the crystal included—and she suspected she could take nothing back. Absently, she touched her flat belly, and caught herself in the act, shocked by the wistful gesture. But she shook her head, forcing her thoughts back to the crystal. Somehow, she had managed to hold onto it during her nap—if in fact it had been a nap, because she still wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t dead and this wasn’t truly heaven.
    Because it felt like heaven.
    Literally everything she had ever envisioned for herself was right here. She was surrounded by history, showered with the attentions of a truly good man. The more she learned about Callum, the more she liked everything about him. He was a man of strong principle, great kindness and loyalty to his people. He wanted to do the right thing by them all, and it was clear in every aspect of every decision he made—including his willingness to allow Biera to name his father’s successor.
    Annie might have been a little worried about her own pending trial, but by everything she saw from these people, they held Callum in great esteem.
    Brude, on the other hand, was crude and overbearing and didn’t inspire the same respect. But at least he had softened a bit toward Annie as well.
    Callum walked in on her one morning while she was staring at the brooch he’d made her. “What are ye doing, lass?”
    “Thinking…”
    He sauntered in, and Annie stood to face him, feeling awkward. More often than not, lately she found