Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

a child, you should be the one to bring it forth. Speak to God and have him send down another horseman on a cloud from Heaven instead of a babe from between my thighs.”

He chuckled, hugging her close. “I would take this pain from ye if I could, my brave warrior queen.”

“’Tis time. Push,” Harriett called.

Kára’s lips pulled back to show her teeth as her groan turned into what Joshua could only call a war cry. As the sound faded, the sweet sound of a bairn’s first lusty cry came from the bed where Merida and Harriett worked. Brenna had tears in her eyes as she smiled up at Kára. “’Tis a boy, Kára, a sweet wee lad.”

Joshua held her tight, slowly lowering her down to the thick tick where the two experienced women worked to cut the bairn free of Kára, wiping him clean. Joshua kissed Kára’s head as they watched. “Ye did it, love.” He moved to sit beside her on the bed and wiped her hair back from her face.

“Look at you,” Harriett said, smiling at the bairn. She lifted him up for them to see.

“Bloody beautiful,” he said, and she set him in blankets that Merida had ready, wrapping him deftly.

She placed the swaddled lad in Kára’s outstretched arms, and Joshua realized she had tears running down her face. “He is perfect,” she whispered and smiled up at him. Lord! He was certain he had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life. He would battle a million wars to keep them safe, or sail a thousand seas to take them to safety, or build a hundred castles to protect them.

“Thank ye, Kára Flett. I love ye and our wee bairn,” he said.

“Adam,” she said, touching the blinking bairn’s cheek with her thumb. She looked into Joshua’s eyes. “I would call him Adam,” she said. “To honor the boy in South Ronaldsay.”

Joshua inhaled deeply, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes, as his chest filled with even more love. He nodded. “I would like to bring another Adam into the world,” he said. “’Tis a strong name for a strong lad.”

“Like his da,” Kára said, smiling brightly up at him. “I love you, Joshua Sinclair Flett.”

Joshua leaned in to kiss her lips, and they both turned to the bairn whose blue eyes seemed to focus on their near faces. Gently, Kára handed the bairn over to Joshua. He took him into his arms. “This babe you can hold as much as you want,” she said.

“Aye.” He smiled down at wee Adam, his gaze sliding to meet Kára’s.

How much his life had changed once he let love into it. A year ago, he was a cold warrior, discontented with life and the world. Unsure about his purpose. But now… As he sat next to his warrior queen wife, holding his newborn bairn, he had never felt so content in his life.

Love was risky. It could tear one apart, but it could also build one into a mountain of strength. It made life sweeter, brighter, and so worth living. Love had conquered the constant simmering anger within him. Aye, his brother might call upon him to be the Horseman of War, and he would go to defend his people. But in his heart Joshua was now truly a man of peace.

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Join me back in Caithness, Scotland to continue the adventure in the third book of my Sons of Sinclair series! Gideon Sinclair, the Horseman of Justice, is tasked to bring Clan MacKay to heel at Varrich Castle. Weighing the scales of justice, everything is good or evil in Gideon’s world, until he meets a lovely MacKay lass who excels at breaking his laws.

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Historical Note

Lord Robert Stewart, Earl of Orkney, was considered a tyrant by the people of Orkney. He had nine legitimate children and several illegitimate children from several mistresses. His first son, Henry, died “mysteriously” when he was twenty-five, leaving the second son, Patrick, in line to gain the earldom. Even though Robert was imprisoned during his lifetime on suspicion of treason, he was released to the Earl’s Palace and died on Orkney, in his bed, in 1593. Of natural causes? Or from the handiwork of a vengeful mistress? The history books do not say.

In 1594, Patrick Stewart, Second Earl of Orkney, accused three of his brothers of trying to kill him when poison was found on one of his brothers’ servants. The servant and “a witch,” who was thought to be an accomplice, were tortured and executed even though the brothers were later acquitted.

Using mostly forced labor, Patrick built his own Earl’s Palace at Kirkwall on Orkney, southeast of Birsay. He is considered one of the most tyrannical noblemen in Scotland’s history. Patrick ran up such high debts and was so brutal to his subjects on Orkney that he was called before the Privy Council of Scotland in 1609 and imprisoned at Edinburgh Castle and then Dumbarton Castle. When imprisoned, Patrick had his illegitimate son, named Robert, rally a rebellion back on Orkney to take back both Earl’s Palaces. Robert succeeded, but then the Earl of Caithness, George Sinclair (named Cain Sinclair in my series), besieged the palace with the backing of the crown.

The Sinclairs won, and Robert was arrested. Robert was hung and Patrick was taken to Market Cross in Edinburgh and beheaded. After Patrick’s death, the palace at Birsay was rarely occupied, and the palace at Kirkwall was inhabited by the bishops of Orkney until 1688 when it became the property of the crown of Scotland.

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The Art of War was written around fifth century BCE by a Chinese strategist noted most frequently to be Sun Tzu (although some feel the manuscript is a