Finding My Highlander (9 page)

Chapter Twelve

Long before light creased the sky the next morning, they packed and saddled the horses with quiet efficiency while Andra returned the cave’s supplies to their storage place. It was no easy task for Kendrick and the men to hoist Lorne onto his horse. His brother’s lips pressed tightly over his teeth and sweat covered his forehead and dripped down his neck.

Andra approached Lorne once he sat on his horse. “Take these, and drink this entire cup of water.” Lorne hesitated for a moment but she pressed four tablets into his palm, “Don’t be stubborn. This is going to be a hard day, and they will help with the discomfort.”

“Thank you, m’lady.”

“What’s with the m’lady again? My name is Andra,” she reproved gently.

Kendrick wanted her to ride with him, but then again, he didn’t relish the awkwardness of holding her for the long ride ahead. He asked Rabbie to hand Senga to him, but the girl grabbed Andra’s hand and turned away from Kendrick.

“We each must ride with one of the men,” she explained to the girl. Senga looked to Rabbie and reached for his hand, but when he turned her toward Kendrick, she balked again. Andra lifted Senga’s chin, but the girl refused to meet her eyes. “Could you ride with Rabbie?” Senga’s shoulders slumped, but she nodded acceptance.

Struan already held Kyle on his lap. John had departed hours ago, and sharing a horse with Lorne would only cause him more pain and difficulty. That meant Andra must ride with him. She turned that defiant chin his direction, her brows raised in question. What was she waiting for, an engraved invitation?

“Do you object to me riding with you, Kendrick?” She looked him straight in the eye refusing to flinch under his stern gaze. Fire sparked beneath those deep green pools of liquid enticement.

“Nae, lass, I’ve no objection.” His voice sounded gravely as though he hadn’t spoken for days. This would not do. In one swift movement, he gripped under her arm and swung her in front of him. He pinned her sideways to his chest as he had done following their first encounter a week ago.
Had it really only been a week?
It seemed like an eternity.

She cast him a scowl over her shoulder, adjusted her seat, and swung her left leg over the horse’s head to sit astride in front of Kendrick. “This will be more comfortable for both of us, if you don’t mind?”

Mind?
Her skirt rode up scandalously exposing those tight, black fitted trews, and though her cape covered everything sufficiently enough, he found it damned disconcerting. He did mind, but wouldn’t tell her so. No matter how much he attempted to divert his thoughts from the heat of Andra’s thighs against his or her firm derriere pressed to his groin, ignoring her was a useless effort.

He certainly would not explain the aching need he felt to touch her, to fold her into a comforting embrace, to possess her completely. Nor would he tell her that riding with her would distract him from his need to stay fully focused and alert as they rode through territory rife with possible enemies. On the other hand, he wanted her near him where he could smell her sweet lemon-mint scent. What could he say to distract him from his want of her?

A multi-colored, silk scarf wound tightly around her neck. The colors were a swirl of blues and peaches. It resembled silks from the far east that he’d seen in the French court. The tips flipped over her shoulders and lashed against his cheeks.

“Did you acquire this scarf on your travels?” What a stupid question. It sounded ridiculous. Since when did a laird concern himself with women’s fashion? Nevertheless, if he could get her talking mayhap she’d disclose information he needed to ken, and it might distract him from the bulge pulsing uncomfortably between them, clamoring for release.

“It was a gift from my father when we visited Paris.”

“So, you have been to Paris? Was your father known at court?”

“No…no, my father went there to study with other men of science and medicine.”

More subterfuge
. He grunted and asked no further questions.

Between scudding mounds of white clouds slashed with golden rays, the sky turned a brilliant, clear blue. Familiar scents of heather, pine, rich earth, and clean crisp air filled their lungs. Exquisite in its ruggedness and beauty, his homeland always imbued him with a deep peace. Yet today, the sights and sounds surrounding them were not sufficient to distract him from the woman in his arms.

* * *

After riding for several hours, Kendrick ordered them to stop for a brief respite in a clearing surrounded on three sides by forest. On one side of the clearing grew dense gorse, thickly clumped wild ferns, and tangled underbrush, on the other stood a tight clump of trees. Andra hurried the children to attend their needs then checked on Lorne.

“You can take a few more of these tablets now,” she told him.

“I thank you, m’lady—Andra. I do think the pain would be much worse without them. What are they exactly? Did your da make them?” Every time she used the medicines from her bag, she danced with danger of discovery.

“No, they were not made by my father but he used them often when treating illness and fever.” Before he could engage her further, Kendrick ordered they remount.

Phew! Another bullet dodged. It’s getting more and more difficult to maintain this pretense
. Eventually she knew she’d slip, and then what would happen?

They rode for several more hours and arrived at the inn shortly after dark. John awaited them by the stables. “They have two rooms above stairs. Some of us can stay in the loft above the horses,” he informed Kendrick.

“What of the men inside?”

“Locals, according to Red Jack. They’re already deep in their cups. You’ll find a rear stair behind the kitchen. Red Jack thought it’d be best to take them through there rather than subject the lady and bairns to the men’s rough behavior.”

Kendrick dismounted in one swift movement. Andra slid off the opposite side before he could pull her into his arms.

Addressing John, Kendrick said, “Rabbie and I will bed in the room with Lorne, allowing one of us to guard the other room through the night. You and Struan tend to the horses and stay in the loft after you’ve eaten. Have Red Jack send food and ale to the rooms, and then replenish our supplies with what the kitchen can spare for tomorrow. We need to leave before first light. Alert me if you see or hear anything suspicious.”

One small torch lit the wall outside one door; the door to the other room was across the hall. Inside, the rooms were small and directly above the storeroom and kitchen. Each contained one bed pushed against the wall and covered with a thin plaid. The wood plank floors were rough and without rushes or other covering. A small brazier sat in one corner with a few sticks and peat inside. A window covered with a rag was on the opposite wall. One rickety, wooden chair and a table, barely larger than a modest serving platter, stood to the side of the window where a single candle flickered beside a ewer of water and a chipped bowl.

Rabbie helped Lorne into the room on the right. Andra took the children to the room on the left. “Home sweet home!” she said, dropping her bags, but her tone held little humor.

A pervasive smell of mold, sweat, and old cooking lard assaulted her nose. The covering on the bed looked none too clean. Andra removed the thin cover and shook it out the window before replacing it.

“Well, at least there don’t appear to be fleas or other crawly things hopping about.”

“Mayhap not what you are used to, m’lady, but ‘tis the best we can do for tonight. I will have another pallet brought up with the food.” Kendrick leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh,” Andra startled. She thought he’d entered the other room. “No matter, we’ll be quite fine for the night, won’t we children?” She waved her hand in a dismissive manner. Kyle sprawled across the bed and Senga sat beside him with her head down, silent as ever.

“On second thought, perhaps a pallet for me would be wise; the children can sleep in the bed. It looks a bit small for all three of us.”

“Aye.” Kendrick answered. Andra could feel his eyes follow her as she wandered to the table, poured water in the bowl, and rinsed a cloth to wipe the children’s hands and faces. While she tended the children, Kendrick stood stoically against the doorframe, watching her every move. What did he want? Why didn’t he leave?

They had ridden the entire day with barely three sentences exchanged between them. She was exhausted and her nerves frazzled; she didn’t need his unrelenting attention. Just then, the innkeeper’s wife appeared at the door with food. A young lad trailed behind carrying a pallet and extra blankets.

“Och, me dearies, ye look plum tuckered ye do. A bit of me hearty barley stew and some ale will fix ye right soon enough. ‘Tis long I’ve nae seen ye, Laird MacLean. Now here ye be with yer lovely wife and her bairns. And poor Lorne, dear lad, injured and all. To be certain ye’ve had a time of it.” She bustled about the room, placing food on the table that looked about to topple over. When done, she put her hands on her hips, and assessed Andra and the bairns with obvious curiosity.

Why hadn’t he corrected the woman and told her Andra was not his wife nor the children hers? Demurely folding her hands, she stood ramrod straight in front of the children. She could play a part with the best of them, but she knew her accent would raise too many questions. So, she nodded her thanks and smiled congenially but held her tongue.

Kendrick took her hint, “Ye have our thanks, Mrs. Riley. You always did make the best stew this side of heaven.”

She blushed and looked at him with adoring eyes. “Och, be gone wif’ ye’ and yer sweet tongue.”

“As you say, everyone is tired from our journey, and we must depart early on the morrow, so we won’t be keeping you from your duties. I’d appreciate it if you could prepare a few loaves of bread and provide wine and ale for the remainder of our journey.” He handed her a few coins from his sporran and patted her arm as she reluctantly left the room, clearly disappointed not to learn more.

Everyone seemed either smitten with his charms or frightened by his ferocity. “Will my accent present a problem for us?” she whispered to Kendrick after she heard the woman descend the stairs.

“You never ken who may be listening. It’s best not to raise questions that we, or should I say
you
, don’t want to answer.” He cocked his eyebrow and a slight curl tipped the corner of his mouth. He was not being hostile, simply relentless. Still, he didn’t move from the doorway. Was he trying to agitate her?

This was neither the time nor place for another discussion. “If that will be all, I think we need to take our rest now.” With a flick of her wrists, she shooed him out of the room.

Andra thought she heard Kendrick outside the closed door listening as she whispered to the children. Little Kyle ran a constant stream of chatter interrupted by occasional yawns. “Will ye sing to us again?” he pleaded.

“We don’t want to disturb the other customers. Perhaps I’ll hum to you while you drift off to sleep.” Before she finished the song, Andra heard the Innkeeper’s wife and her lad speak with Kendrick. “Yer wife has a lovely voice. She be a most bonny lass.”

“Aye, that she does, Mrs. Riley. Thank you again for the supplies.” Footsteps descended the stairs, and Andra heard a door close. His presence in the room across the hall both comforted and distracted, and she wondered if he had similar thoughts.

Chapter Thirteen

They broke their fast before dawn and traveled for several hours with only the sound of birds in the trees and chatter from Kyle to disturb the quiet. They made their first stop after passing through the forest and onto a landscape of rolling hills covered in heather and gorse where a sparse scattering of alder and birch trees grew.

A silver birch tree and a mass of scraggy willow shrubs clustered along the edge of a rocky burn that spilled over a steep embankment and into a swift moving river. “This is a good place to rest and take refreshment.” Kendrick said as he called the riders to a halt. “We should arrive at the castle by nightfall if we dinnae tarry long.”

“Are you sure I will be welcomed by your people?” Andra had been reluctant to ask this question, but the prospect of meeting Kendrick’s family and clan made her stomach tighten and neck throb with tension.

Lorne and Kendrick were standing together when she asked.

“Och, your singing alone will make you welcome.” Lorne said. “You sing all the time, lass, ‘tis very pleasing to the ear. Mayhap you weave magic with your bonny voice.”

“I don’t sing all the time. And there’s no such thing as magic.” She responded with more asperity than she’d intended and rolled her shoulders to loosen the tension his words triggered.

Kendrick laughed, “Aye, you do sing all the time. All morning you’ve been humming like the wee birds.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned her incessant humming and singing but their laughter flustered her. “Well, I’ll just have to curb my enthusiasm in the future.”

She looked around at scenery straight out of a fairytale. Mist drifted over purple-covered hills, snuggled between an abundance of wild fern and thistles she spied a few bearberry bushes kissed with the first flame of fall. High craggy peaks caught clusters of clouds in the distance.

“Although, I must admit this enchanting vista does call to my voice.” She twirled in a circle with arms outstretched above her head and sang the words from “The Sound of Music” with sufficient exuberance to gain a nod from Julie Andrews herself. A brilliant smile covered her face as she waltzed toward the trees singing her heart out. When she turned to check on the children, she noticed Senga move too near the edge of the embankment above the river. The horses stood near her drinking from a stream that spilled over into the wider more turbulent expanse of water. Lorne was brushing down one of the steeds with a handful of dried grass. She started to call Senga away from the edge when something rustled the brush on the other side of the stream causing the horses to shy toward the river, knocking Lorne on his backside. As the men ran to grab their mounts and help Lorne, Senga spun away from the skittish horses, lost her footing, and tumbled over the edge.

With no thought to her actions, Andra made a mad dash toward the river while kicking off her boots and tossing her mother’s cape aside. She dove into the fast moving water. Spinning and sputtering, she gasped for air when she surfaced. Then she saw Senga rise out of the turbulence several feet away and go under again. The men yelled to her from the shore but Andra stayed focused on her efforts to reach the floundering girl. She kicked her legs hard against the current and dove under the murky churning water toward where Senga’s plaid swirled on the waves.

She could barely make out a form in the murky water ahead and rose for one final breath before diving under. Catching Senga’s wrist, she pulled her to the surface and wrapped her arm around the girl’s chest. Senga hung against her like a dead weight. The swift current had carried them into deep water at the river’s center, dozens of yards from where they had entered.

As she fought against the pull of the current, she aimed for an area where the embankment dropped to about a foot above a narrow rocky shore. Kendrick guided his horse into the water at that spot. Fighting the current with faltering strength, she struggled against the swirling eddies. Pulled under again, still gripping Senga against her, she kicked hard toward the shore. Her lungs and limbs burned with fatigue. Suddenly, a strong hand grasped her shoulder and heaved her and Senga out of the water.

Once on shore Kendrick drew Andra tight against his chest. “What possessed you to do that? You could have drowned.”

Andra shoved away from his embrace with all the power left in her and dropped beside Senga. He knelt behind her his hand on her back, “She’s gone, lass, let me take you away.”

He tried to pull her from the girl but Andra slapped him off. Breathing into Senga’s mouth, she began chest compressions. After a few attempts, Senga coughed and Andra rolled her to her side patting her back.

Rabbie and Struan reached them just as Senga coughed up the water. Struan crossed himself, “You bring the dead back to life? You are a witch!” His eyes grew round and wary.

Coughing and barely able to catch her breath, she gasped. “No Struan, I learned… (gasp)…this…(gasp)…traveling…with my father.” She took another ragged breath, coughing and sucking air. “If you can get the water out of the lungs quickly, then air refills them and normal breathing resumes.”

She looked up as Struan started to back away hands raised in front of him, a stunned and fearful look on his face. Fully aware of the superstitions and witch burnings that ran rampant in this time, she could not ignore his fear.

Exhausted and hurting in places she had never felt before, she managed, with Kendrick’s assistance, to gain her feet though they hurt like the devil.

“Now you listen to me, Struan. You pray to the same God as I, and God helps those who help themselves. You’re big, braw warrior and have a few wits about you most of the time. Hear me about this. That girl was not dead! She most definitely would have died very soon if I hadn’t pushed the water from her lungs. Furthermore, perhaps this is a lesson you should learn.”

Advancing toe to toe with Struan, she poked a finger into his chest as he continued to back away. “You’re a bloody, damn superstitious brute, do you hear me!” Her throat felt like she’d swallowed shards of glass but she continued. “If you paid a bit of attention and allowed yourself to learn something new instead of being so bloody arrogant, you might save your own sorry arse or that of one of your men should someone fall off their bloody horse in the water and find their lungs full of water.”

One hand on her hip and the other fisted with one finger pressed into his sternum she continued, “Which is it, are you a man of common sense and able to learn a new thing or two, or are you a witless man consumed with superstition to the point of blindness and ignorance.” Struan’s mouth gaped in shock. She could guess from his stunned expression that no woman had ever dared to curse or accost him in such a manner.

Andra’s voice had risen to a high shrill. Her body shook uncontrollably with cold and exhaustion, but she would not back away. Consumed with the need to pummel some sense into the man, she hung on. If that failed, she would scream and pull out her hair and become the banshee he thought her. Hell, maybe she was a banshee after all.

Struan’s scowling face turned beet red. He attempted to cross his arms over his puffed out chest but she refused to remove the finger poking into him and grabbed a fist full of shirt and plaid.

With an exploding voice, he gripped her upper arms, lifted her into the air, and shook her hard as if she were no more than a sopping wet coat. “Stop your cursing and screeching and calm yourself, you wild banshee! I’m not tak’in kindly to your slander’in words and insults. Your language is fouler than a sailor’s.”

She dangled in the air, his grip bruising her arms, but at least he was not backing away with a look of terror on his face. Anger was better than fear.