She made a perfect curtsy to show her respect, kissed Brenna and her husband farewell, much to Connor's astonishment, then turned and went running back to her scowling brother.

"I'm going to miss Faith most of all," Brenna admitted.

"You'll probably see her again," he said.

"I doubt that," she replied. "I'm sorry Quinlan will be leaving us. Will Crispin be given command each time you're called away?"

"No, he'll go to Hugh's holding. They have asked me to assign someone to become their leader. They need Crispin, and he will be pleased as well."

He lifted his wife onto the black, swung up behind her, and then leaned down close to her ear and told her again how much he loved her.

"We're starting over again, aren't we?"

"If it makes you happy to think we are, then I won't argue with you. It will be easier, however, because I will remember always to be thoughtful."

"You already are thoughtful, and is it any wonder at all why I love you? I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"I would like to ride bareback again, and if you rode with me, could I ride one of the other horses?"

"If you agree to stay inside the fortress when you ride bareback, I will grant this request. Do you see how I can be accommodating, wife?"

"Yes, I do," she agreed. "And since you're in such a wonderful mood…"

"Yes?"

"About the chapel…"

Epilogue



Sunset was a magical time. The children would be outside, running barefoot up and down the paths and shrieking with laughter while their mother kept a watchful eye on their youngest, a fiery-headed bairn with a wobble in her gait and a devilish gleam in her blue eyes, who found great sport in plucking the flowers out of the ground as soon as her mama planted them.

He would go up to his bedroom to remove his sword before joining them in their games, but he always lingered in front of the window to look out beyond the walls.

The first sprig of heather blossomed almost as soon as the ruins were torn down, and now the field was alive with rich, glorious hues, a fitting tribute, his wife believed, to the man who had gone before.

The scent of honey mingled with the sound of laughter, and, oh, what a joy it was to be home.