This is for jesse142008, a quizilla writer who encouraged me to re up this story! Love3

Villys POV –

She stared at him. Did he really just say… no. She heard him wrong. Hamish did not just ask her to marry him. But then, why was he waiting for an answer…?

"Really?" she kicked herself for being such a dolt, but she couldn't find anything else to say. He had caught her completely off guard. Here she was, sitting and thinking of a way to get her stuff out of the tent, food from the supply wagon, and somehow get a message to Angus for when he got back so she could sneak out. And here he comes with that?! He must be crazy!

"Yes, I mean, well, ya know… just think about it! You can't be stayin with this many men and walk away, if you walk away at all, with your reputation intact. I'm looking out for yer honor, Villy, that's all. I wouldn't ever hurt ya Vevilla. I know you 'aven't known me that long yet, but I could be real good to ya. I'll take care of you best I can till my last breath if ya say yes. I promise you." He had been fidgeting and blushing, and looking at the ground up till that last bit. Then he'd gotten real still, and looked her straight in the eye. Her father would kill her, her brother would go insane from shame, but looking into that big Scotsman's brown eyes, Villy McAndrew believed him. And said…

Hamishs POV –

"Yes. I'll marry you Hamish." He started. She said yes. She said yes! He whooped, and rushed to her, picking her straight up off the log and swinging her around in a huge bear hug. After a moment of shock, she laughed, giggling at first and then a true, deep in her chest laugh. Looking into her sparkling green eyes, Hamish had a feeling it'd been a long while since she'd laughed like that. He fell in love with the sound right then, and silently vowed to hear it as often as he could till his dying day. God, she was beautiful.

Villy's POV –

Looking down into his handsome face, Villy felt the greatest peace she'd known in years. She was in the middle of a war camp, not knowing yet if her brother was alive, if her sisters were surviving without her, about to commit her life to a man who could very well die within days on a bloody battlefield; and yet she was blissfully happy. It was strange that a man she hardly knew had provoked this feeling but all the same, he had.

She bent her head towards his smile and kissed him gently on the lips, his enthusiastic response nearly had them both on ground. She giggled, pulling away, and blushing. He laughed his deep, hearty laugh and let her feet touch back down. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. As their breathing evened, her hands drifted down to his chest and his settled around her waist. The sounds of the night enveloped them, and for once, there was no turmoil in either mind.


They both jumped. She turned and her stomach fluttered as her brother, covered in the dust of the road, battle scarred, and weary came running at her from the woods, a look of disbelief and shock on his face.

"Hamish?! What the devil is goin on? That's meh sister your pawin!" Villy's cheeks flushed, and she stepped away from Hamish, only to be dragged back at the hip by his meaty hand.

"Angus, brother where have ya been? We've been waitin hours on hours for ya!"

Angus's POV (I know shocker!) –

"Where 'ave I been? Where have I been?! I've been fightin a war! Running 'cross half the country delivering news to allies and enemies alike, and here I come back and find my baby sister with you! Get yer hands off her!" my blood was boiling. True, Villy had more raised me than me her, but I was her older brother, and I couldn't stand seein her in any mans arms, much less those of a soldier, friend of mine or not.

"Vevilla McAndrew, you are going home. Now. A battle camp is no place for a woman, and the girls! Saint's preserve us, you left them with Da?! Move yer arse, this minute lass, I'm warnin you!" at this point I was about to lose it… until she stepped up in front of me, took Hamish's hand in her own, and glared me down. That girl was half my size and she could back me into a corner with them eyes alone. Vevilla is stubborn, and strong. Good traits in a woman in these times, bad for the man who has to deal with her. I'd rather be fighting the English than my sister any day.

"He sold me, Angus. Shook his hand, and traded me to ol' man McPhearson for a bottle o' whiskey. Would ya have me go home to that? Cause I won't. Not now, not ever. Even if you coulda made me before, I got myself a man now, and there ain't no sending me away from Hamish." I knew I was defeated. There was a slight chance I could have physically forced her home, if Wallace would have let me leave for a few days to take her; but with Hamish standing there, all that determination and support for Villy in his face, there was no way I could win this fight. I sighed.

"You'll be the death of me Villy, ya know that lass?" she relaxed before my eyes, the stress leaving her body. She knew she'd won. A moment later, she was in my arms, her face buried in my chest, laughing. Laughing. It'd been so long, longer than when I left home, since I'd heard that sound. Maybe giving her to Hamish wasn't such a bad idea.

I looked up at the red haired giant and caught a strange look on his face. I mixture of relief… and worry? He smiled when he saw me staring, but there was definitely something there. I'd have to ask him later…

"Come on you two! We've got to go tell Wallace! I wonder if there's a priest that can wed us…" Villy was tugging on both of our hands. For being so strong and independent, she was still a girl. Lookin back at Hamish, we nodded in a silent agreement. That's why we love her.