The Highlander's Bride by Michele Sinclair Page A

And, since Conor had left as he’d promised, she could use some cheer and reassurance. It had been difficult to watch Conor leave the group and ride ahead when they crossed the McTiernay border.
    As they journeyed, Laurel realized why all of them had continually mentioned the beauty of their highlands, especially McTiernay lands. They were magnificent. The McTiernay lands were nestled in the highland mountains surrounded by great cliffs, picturesque rivers, and huge invasions of sea that stretched like fingers creeping up the mountains desiring to touch their glory.
    In the distance, Laurel could see the McTiernay castle on the summit of a large cliff. Situated against a large river draining into a great scenic loch, it was the most conspicuous object for miles around. Surrounding the castle were cottages of various sizes, each built of wood and stone. They looked strong, warm, and built to keep families safe during the cold winter months.
    She pointed at the dwellings. “Craig, who owns these cottages?”
    “Mostly farmers and their families. That one there,” he pointed to a cottage that was much closer to the castle walls, “used to belong to Old Gowan.”
    “Used to?”
    “Aye, he died just a few months back. I honestly thought the old codger would outlive me.” Craig was seventeen years of age, and the idea that anyone could outlive him from the previous generation was comical.
    Laurel laughed at his ability to bring good humor even to sad events. “You must have really liked him.”
    His grin broadened. “He was a great soldier of my father’s. While I don’t remember it, Gowan was commander of the McTiernay guard for many years and was well respected by our people.”
    “Why did he choose to live outside of the castle walls?”
    “You are right, he did choose to live in that cottage. For years, he lived with us when Mother and Father were still alive. But once they passed, he decided he would rather live in his own home than in the keep with his memories.”
    They were much closer to the castle now. Laurel kept expecting to see Conor ride down and greet them, but she saw no riders heading their way. The only soldiers to be seen were those entering and leaving the castle walls. The hill had flattened out now, and the land rolled with waves of green. Finn was right , she thought to herself, it does remind one of the Trossachs. It was still quite green with a short type of grass that swayed in the light breeze, but soon the cold nights would cause it to turn brown until spring.
    The castle walls formed a D with the rear, straight wall towering over a ravine. At the ravine’s base was a large river that originated high in the mountains and flowed into the great loch nestled in the valley they had passed by that morning. They truly were in the highlands now, with mountains below, above, and all around them.
    The landscape on each side of the castle was similar to the rest of the countryside. Trees hugged either side of the river, but left fields of land available for farming, animals, or, as she could see in a distance, training for warriors.
    Despite its size and the number of inhabitants, this area the McTiernays had forged from the mountains felt like a home. She could see it in the faces of the women and children she passed. Their lives required hard work, but they seemed happy, content, and safe. All elements she sensed were missing from her brother’s estate. She hoped that his new bride would bring him the joy they had yearned for as children.
    The McTiernay brothers unexpectedly closed around her on their horses. She was unsure whether it was to protect her, or to indicate that she was there by McTiernay desire.
    Because of its size, the castle had seemed close for some time. But it was late afternoon when the group finally approached its outer walls. They crossed a large wooden bridge that led into a long and broad entry guarded by a well-sized barbican tower fortifying the guard gate. The guard gate