The seasons turned as the MacBride clan rebuilt their lives and strengthened their relationships with their allies.

News of the defeat of the Englishmen spread far and wide throughout Scotland, leading many more Lairds to lay fealty at the feet of Kieran’s clan and his allies. The Scottish stood in a position of strength and power that they had not known for generations. They were, at last, a formidable force to be reckoned with again.

The English in the areas closest to the clans who had allied themselves with Kieran began to remove their forces from the Highlands as quickly as they could. They, too, could not deny the strength of the Scots while they remained allied as one. It was only through their unification that the Highlanders could truly maintain peace and control of their lands – it was the best way that they could protect themselves from the ever-present threat of the English forces.

Kieran and Vivien spent their nights together, as husband and wife, continuously working together to ensure that the peace they had fought so hard to gain would remain in force long after they were gone.

While the pain of Bailey’s absence never quite abated, the MacBrides learned to live without him. Tilly never forgot him; she never let him go. If Kieran had asked her, she would have admitted that she still held out hope that he was alive and well, somewhere. Even if he did not remember her or know who the MacBrides were, that secret hope in her heart was what Tilly needed to keep moving through each day.

Kieran knew that Tilly had never seen Bailey the same way – she had never seemed to show anything stronger than friendship towards him. Kieran knew that Tilly would never admit that Bailey had been in love with her; the pain of that admission would be too much for her to bear. But Tilly was strong, and Kieran knew that she would grieve and move forward in her own way, at her own pace.

For his part, Kieran had never been happier than he had from the day that he could finally claim Vivien as his own, as his wife.

Their relationship continued to flourish as they stood side by side as equals. Kieran would never allow himself to dim her light that shone so powerfully once she came into herself again.

Vivien had proven to be an exceptionally strong woman; she was independent, fierce, kind, and compassionate. She was wise in her own way, he had found. She had a keen mind and a soft heart. She was finally truly accepted by his clansmen after their alliance had been formed with the other Lairds.

It was a year to the day after they had met on that fateful day in the forest that Kieran had decided to throw a feast. It was a celebration in many ways, and in some, a way of honoring those they had lost in that same forest as well as the life of his dearest friend.

The feast was a roaring success, as whisky flowed freely and the clansmen within the main hall tumbled about in laughter, jokes thrown around the room, the food streaming out of the kitchen – a sign of the prosperity the MacBride clan had come into after all of their trials and tribulations.

Kieran stood on the dais, watching his clan enjoying their evening, watching them laugh and cajole with each other. His sister, Tilly, sat among her own friends, and even though Kieran knew that she knew what the deeper meaning was behind the evening, she was still doing her best to enjoy herself. Kieran could see the grief in her eyes that she had learned to mask so well; there would never be true peace for her while she waited for Bailey to return to them, but she was alive, and that was something that Kieran was immensely grateful for.

He watched as a messenger approached Tilly, handing her a scrap of paper with a message written on it.

Her face changed from her forced joy to one of utter shock and disbelief as her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes began to widen. She read and reread the note in her hand multiple times, turning her head around several times in search of the messenger who had delivered the note.

She paled visibly, tilting slightly to the side as though she were about to collapse.

“I’ll be right back,” Kieran murmured in Vivien’s ear before he ran to his sister, placing his hand under her elbow just as her knees began to buckle under her. He helped her sit down gently and waited while she collected her breath.

Tilly’s hands were shaking as she tried to drink from her goblet, her face still ash white.

“What is it?” Kieran asked, kneeling before her, taking her hands in his, “Tilly? I need tae ken what has happened, ye look like ye have seen a ghost.”

She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath before looking him in the eye.

“It’s Bailey,” she whispered.

“What abou’ him?” Kieran frowned, unsure of what his sister could possibly mean.

“I just got a note from a messenger – I dinnae ken who he is. But… read it, Kieran,” she sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve as she passed the note to him.

Kieran stared down at the paper in his hand, feeling his jaw drop and the color drain from his own face.

“It cannae be,” he said, his own hands trembling as he reread the note.

“It has tae be,” Tilly insisted vehemently.

“It says he is alive, Tilly,” Kieran shook his head, even though he wanted nothing more than to believe the note, “I have his kilt – it was brought tae me as a sign o’ his death. Surely…”

“Dae ye really trust anything that Stone ever said tae ye?” Tilly asked, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion, “Dae ye not think that he might have lied? That maybe Bailey really is alive?”

“I dinnae ken, Tilly. Yer right, I dinnae trust a word that man spoke. But this, this is something else. If he is alive, dear God, ye need tae find him, Tilly.”

Tilly smiled, the first real smile Kieran had seen in months.

“Ye ken, I will. I willnae stop until I find him, Kieran. He is alive; I can feel it in my bones. Bailey is alive.”

Kieran nodded, hugged his sister close to him, and took his leave, returning to the dais where Vivien was standing. He told her what had happened, watching her face light up with joy at the prospect of Bailey still being alive.

“That is amazing news, Kieran,” she whispered, knowing without him saying anything that it was best to keep the news quiet until they could confirm it.

“Aye, it is,” he murmured, as he stood there on the dais beside his wife. Vivien looked resplendent in her own arasaid, her smile genuine, warm and happy as she looked at Tilly. Kieran turned to her, kissing her lightly on the cheek as he placed his hand on the swell of her belly. Their child kicked beneath his hand, as though it knew that it was him and knew that it was loved and treasured already.

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