Once Upon A Highland Legend by Tanya Anne Crosby Page A

herself staring at her boots, because every time she looked at Callum, she worried about leaving.
    “Ye think too much,” he said.
    Annie’s chest constricted as he stepped toward her, reaching out to gently take her chin. “If ye’re worrying over Biera’s return, dinna. I swore I’d let naught befall ye and I meant it, mo chroí.”My heart.
    Annie’s heart squeezed. She nodded, and he bent to kiss her tenderly. And then without another word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his pallet.

Chapter Twelve

     
    Callum worried about Annie.
    After their encounter in the cave when her Winter Stone had grown cold, darkening the grotto, doubts began to plague him.
    She had lied to him…but about what?
    Over and over, he considered each word they had spoken. There had been nothing she had said that would reveal any answers. Nothing he could point to that might give away her intentions…unless, the stone did not need words—which made sense to Callum, for what use could a stone have for words? Mayhap her intentions had changed while in that grotto? Mayhap the stone had sensed something words could not conceive?
    Biera had told him once that all things were born of love or fear.
    Truth and lies, Annie had said—the Winter Stone could sense these things and by them foretell the destinies of men. But a lie could be told for the good of all, and a truth might be an evil thing. Mayhap truth and lies were simply words that did not tell the entire story? Mayhap her stone sensed paths that were either true or false? Decisions that were good and bad?
    As he worked alongside his clansmen, he tried to recall each of their conversations…searching for clues while he watched her slip up the hillside yet again, toward the rocky terrain that blanketed the area around the caverns. She ventured there nearly every day, seeking something.
    But what?
    Dunneld was shadowing her. If she attempted to leave the vale, Callum would hear of it at once, but she never seemed to try. Each day she returned to his arms and loved him as though she never meant to leave…
    Or mayhap as though each time would be their last?
    Callum had made a promise to her, and he meant to keep it…so long as she didn’t betray him. Biera would return soon enough, and he knew the old priestess well enough to know that she would look for the good in Annie, though if Annie attempted to flee before Biera returned, there would be naught Callum could do to convince the rest of the clan that she meant them no harm.
    There wasn’t much chance she could hie away with the Destiny Stone itself, but if she chose to leave and then lead Giric back to the vale, there was naught he could do to stop her, for that then must be their destiny, and it was his people’s belief that all things must come to pass as they should.
    Which was precisely why he had been against bringing the stone here in the first place. He’d damned his father for convincing him otherwise for if that death stone—that sacred relic of those Dalriada kings—was destined now to bring war to those whose blood was not pure enough to rule two nations as one, then perhaps as Kenneth MacAilpín had begun his reign, so too would he and all his forebears live and die.
    But now…now Callum had begun to believe that he had been brought here to this vale for a reason. That reason was Annie Ross. She was his mate for life, he sensed, and he would wed her now if he could…without Biera’s blessing, even. But alas, he must be certain of Annie’s intentions…for the wellbeing of his people. Now that his Da was dead, if Biera declared it must be so, then his life would no longer be his own. All he could do was wait…and watch…and hope.
     

     
    Avoiding her decision was not going to work, Annie realized. Simply by not deciding, she was deciding. Clearly, though time wasn’t as linear as one might suppose, it didn’t seem willing to stop altogether. Tonight she could see no moon in the night sky.
    Her