Guardian

Chapter 9

Author's Note: If you skipped Chapter 8, please go back to the end of it and look for this symbol: •───⋅☾ ☽⋅───• 

Aidan has fallen into a dream, which starts in chapter 8 and concludes at the start of this chapter. 

•───⋅☾ ☽⋅───•

The first thought that came to mind when I flew out the door was: It must have just been a fox gallivanting through the field. There were many objects that would glint red in the sunlight. It could be the redcoat of the local company stationed in the nearby town. It probably wasn't Fergus.

But I couldn't help but have hope in my heart as I threw on whichever pair of shoes lay on the front veranda and raced down the lane toward the oak tree.

"Please, let it be him. Please let it not be too late!"

My racing heart kept pace with my feet. Would I make it in time? It seemed unlikely considering the red glint from earlier had been receding toward the lake when I saw it.

There was the bridge. There was the tree standing tall and proud. Underneath its branches, stood a man with gleaming red hair and a green Tartan. I was pretty sure that's what father called the skirts the local men wore. A sword and a pistol glinted in his belt. It gave him a debonair air.

The man was taller than I remembered. He must have been at least six feet, if not more. Was it not Fergus?

Fear struck my soul. What if I just put myself in monumental danger by rushing headlong toward an unidentified person with red hair? I stopped in the middle of the bridge.

The man turned to look at me. He must have heard my footsteps bang against the wooden planks.

It was Fergus.

Was it possible for a heart to beat out of a chest? It seemed that mine was testing its limits.

His eyes sparkled with humor.

And then there was the bridge of his nose. I could write an entire ode to the bridge of his nose. It was firm and straight and tapered perfectly to land right above full, luscious lips that were now quirked up in a smile.

"Fergus, you came back." My breathless voice was barely recognizable even to my own ears, and so I blushed. I knew I blushed because the heat radiated up from my neck. It touched my ears and touched my cheeks.

"Aye, and a fair evening to ye, lass – Eleanor."

"You remembered my name."

"And why wouldn't I? 'Tis a beautiful name." He winked.

He had no right making my heart beat ten times faster than it should be. "I waited two months. I thought for sure you wouldn't dare return. After all," I gestured helplessly at my nice silk lace on my dress, and my obvious English accent.

"Yes, ye are an English lass, and I'm a Scottish man. We are definitely ill-fated and on opposite sides of the fight. And yet, here I stand havin' not been able to think of much else but yer pretty face for all these two months. I thought to leave ye a letter, but I get to see ye instead. I am a lucky man."

How was I even supposed to respond to that statement, "That was rather forward of you."

"I don't see a point in wasting time and words. We won't be able to see each other often."

Fergus had a point. Being on opposite sides of a battle would make seeing each other quite challenging, but still for a man to be so bold and to only have seen me twice now. I was at a bit of a loss for words. "Yes, well, I suppose there is that. I just realized we've exchanged barely any words. I know nothing about you. I don't even know your last name."