Healing the Highlander (5 page)

"We must go now, lassie," Walter had urged, spurring her to action.

A quick hug from each of the women and Leah had lowered herself into the slimy stink pit she now traversed.

The tunnel itself was so small, Walter's bulk filled the dark in front of her, his normal tottering gait morphed into a slouched-over parody of a walk as he moved forward in the inky black.

"Only a bit farther, lass," Walter assured her. "Me boat’s’ tied up and waiting just below the opening."

Leah nodded though she knew, in this dark and with his back to her, Walter couldn't see her action. Still, speaking aloud might require that she breathe through her nose, and a nose full of this stench was something she wasn't willing to risk simply to acknowledge his comment.

With her next step, a cool, fresh breeze rustled around her and she craned her neck to see past the old man. Ahead the texture of the dark tunnel seemed to change, as if it softened to a lighter shade of black.

A few steps more and a circle opened in front of her, stars twinkling in the space Walter had occupied only moments before.

"Walter?" she hissed, freezing to the spot as the shock of his disappearance overtook her.

"Squat down and lower yerself over the edge, lass. The boat's just here."

Relief washed over her as she realized they'd reached the end of the tunnel.

Short-lived relief. Clearly the nasty tunnel was a haven in comparison to what she faced now.

The boat Walter encouraged her to drop down into appeared to be little more than a small wooden box, rocking to and fro precariously on the waves that slapped against the castle wall. Walter's bulk alone filled half the thing.

"Come along with you now," Walter urged, reaching up to tug on her hand. "We've a need to move with a purpose if we're to get you far enough away before daybreak to make yer escape."

"Move with a purpose," she repeated weakly, swallowing her fear to drop down off the ledge and into the small craft.

Her feet hit the wood with a thud and the boat rocked wildly under her weight.

"Down," Walter ordered, tossing a woolen over her head as she dropped to her knees. "Flat into the bottom of the boat, lassie. We dinna want any who might see me on the loch to realize I've a passenger, now do we?"

That was the last thing they wanted.

Under the cover of the blanket, Leah curled onto the floor of the craft. Hugging her bundle of supplies to her chest, she did her best to ignore the stench of dead fish permeating everything around her.

"I'll just cast me net and see what I come up with as we make our way. Bringing back a nice catch can only add to the authenticity of our ruse, aye, lassie?"

She felt the motion of the craft pushing away from the castle and out into the depths of the loch. Once more the boat rocked wildly as Walter apparently stood and tossed the net. Leah tightened her grip on the woolen that covered her, wishing the boat had handles or, better yet, that life vests had already been invented.

The little boat rocked back and forth with the waves, setting Leah's stomach to rolling with the motion. The rocking increased as the old man rose to his feet at regular intervals and after a while Leah began to wonder whether her greater fear was the boat tipping over or the motion sickness that gripped her.

If only Walter would just sit down and be still. ..

After a particularly violent series of movements, she could stand it no longer. She jerked the cover from her face to gasp in deep breaths of fresh air in an effort to keep herself from losing what little she'd managed to eat that day. Water sprayed against her cheeks and she quickly realized it wasn't the old man's movement at all that set their little boat rocking but the large waves repeatedly buffeting their craft.

Oh, this seriously sucked.

"You should probably know, I can't swim, Walter. I never learned how." Leah wiped her face and peered up at the old man's back. "I'm just saying." Not that she thought there was much he'd be able to do about it if one of those waves capsized their boat. He'd likely not even be able to save himself.

"Dinna you be fashing yerself over a little rough water, lassie." Walter chuckled as he pulled on the oar in his hands. "Old Walter kens the ways of this loch, never you fear. I've bested her waves since long before you were born."

Easy enough to say since she hadn't technically been born yet.

The boat rolled over another mound of water, sending a wave of nausea pulsating through Leah as the spray covered her face.

She closed her eyes, refusing to watch what was to come. Maybe it would be like reading billboards when she traveled in a car. If she couldn't see anything, maybe she could keep the nausea at bay.

Her head pounded as the minutes ticked away and her stomach tightened. It was only a matter of time before she'd be hanging over the side, emptying her guts into the roiling waters that threatened to capsize the box they rode in. Already she could feel the first spasms forming deep in the pit of her stomach, sending little warning burps to her lips.

She pushed the hood of her cloak away from her face in anticipation of the impending embarrassment.

"This be it," Walter called over his shoulder.

His words were followed by a sharp bump underneath her and she sat bolt upright, completely forgetting the need to hide her presence in the boat.

To her surprise, Walter had piloted them safely to the edge of the bank and even now he stepped out into the shallows, pulling the little craft up into the weeds.

Leah couldn't remember a time she'd been so grateful to scramble out onto solid ground, her stomach still a rumbling mass of turmoil.

As the first rays of morning light lit the sky, Walter splashed into the water to pull her bundle from the boat, passing it over to her with a grin.

"I told you you'd nothing to fret over, did I no?"

"That you did, Walter. What can I say? I'm just a worrywart." She gave the old man a hug before tossing the makeshift strap of her bundle across her shoulder and backing away a few steps.

"You're sure yer up to doing this?" Walter's eyes looked even more watery and red-rimmed than usual as he waited for her response.

No matter how she felt at the moment, there was really only one answer to his question. It wasn't like she had any choice. It was her or no one.

She nodded her agreement, not sure she could say the words aloud.

"Then remember to keep to the trees, lass, and step lively. Dinna forget to use yer ears as well as yer eyes and dinna be about trusting anyone. As soon as Richard discovers yer gone, he'll no doubt send men out to search the countryside for you, aye?"

"I'll be fine, Walter. I can do this." Leah forced the words of reassurance as much for her own benefit as for the old man's. Though, in truth, she felt about as far from fine as she could imagine.

"You've the dirk Maisey gave you close at hand?"

Again she nodded, patting the cloth pouch hanging from her waist.

"Then be off with you, lass, into the trees. And may God watch over you." With that final word, Walter climbed back into the little boat and shoved off from shore, heading back into the choppy waters of the loch.

"From your lips to his ears," Leah muttered as she turned away from the sight of his leaving. Standing here alone in the freaking middle of nowhere, she could use all the divine help she could get.

Opening the little pouch at her waist, she dug under Maisey's knife to remove a much-folded sheet of paper, tilting it toward the rising sun to look over the drawing once more. Not that she really needed to see the words below the drawing. She'd committed those to memory when she'd first opened it last night.

The letter had been written by Mairi MacKiernan as an introduction to her family should the day ever come when Leah had need of them. It instructed her to travel north to find the MacKiernan home, a castle called Dun Ard. There was also a small map Mairi had drawn. When Leah reached Dun Ard, she was to ask for Mairi's aunt Rosalyn or her cousin, Blane. Apparently either of them would believe the wild story of where she'd come from and who had sent her.

Thank goodness Grandma Mac had kept the letter all those years ago when Leah had wanted nothing to do with it. Without this familial connection to the MacKiernan clan, there really was no one to aid them.

Folding the paper and returning it to her pouch, Leah studied the area around her. Walter had dropped her far enough from MacQuarrie Keep that she could see no sign of the towers. That was as they'd planned. If she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her.

The little map Mairi had drawn, a mass of squiggles and straight lines, appeared to follow roads, such as they were. Leah would simply have to trust it was the roads of her current time and not some modern-day version. It also showed a starting point from MacQuarrie Keep. Three days' ride to Dun Ard, the letter said.

Too bad she had to keep off those roads. Following them too closely would make her an easy target when Dick's men came hunting for her. Too bad she was on foot. That would extend the time it took to reach Dun Ard. And, strike three, too bad she wasn't starting out from MacQuarrie Keep.

Leah huffed out a deep sigh, noting absently she could see her breath misting in front of her. Just her luck the chill of spring insisted on hanging on so long. As she pulled her cape close around her, her hand brushed over the stone dangling from her neck. She pulled the ribbon from inside her bodice and rubbed the polished stone between her fingers. Just as her mother's had, the carving on this stone felt warm to her skin.

How Grandma Mac had managed to get her hands on this was a story she intended to hear the minute she returned to MacQuarrie Keep. For now, though, she was simply grateful to have it. Just the weight of the stone around her neck made her feel stronger and less alone somehow, as if it were some kind of ethereal connection to her mother.

"Crazy, huh?" she asked aloud, tracing her thumb slowly over the carving once more. "But if you are out there watching over me, I could really use some help right about now. Show me where I need to be. Help me find my way to what I need most."

Almost instantly, a stab of heat shot through her fingers, and she jerked her hand away, allowing the stone to thud against her chest as she examined her fingers. Searching for the red of a burn, she was amazed to find nothing. When she tentatively stroked the tip of her index finger across the face of the stone again, it felt absolutely normal.

With a humorless laugh at her own indulgent flight of fancy, she tucked the stone back down inside her bodice and studied her surroundings intently.

She needed to get moving.

Somewhere out there, she could only hope she'd run into those squiggly-line roads Mairi had drawn for her because there was nothing she could see from here that looked even remotely like that map.

For now, the one thing she did know was that the path to Dun Ard headed north. With the sun rising to her right, north should be straight ahead.

"Then straight ahead it is," she murmured aloud, setting off at a lively pace, just as she'd promised Walter she would.

FIVE

How far had she come? A hundred miles? A thousand?

"Ha!" The sound of her own voice startled Leah and she shook her head at her skittishness. In spite of how long she'd been walking, she'd be lucky if she'd managed a solid ten miles in the proper direction. Lord, but she was tired.

After the first few hours, with what felt like hundreds of false starts and doubling back to find her way around rivers too large to cross on foot, she'd finally realized that all of those squiggles on Mairi's map were neither roads nor decoration. They were the bodies of water she needed to make her way around.

Which explained the little arrows and straight lines. All of which would have been an absolutely perfect guide if she'd started off from the front gate of MacQuarrie Keep.

Which she hadn't.

She stood at the crest of a particularly steep incline, breathing hard, having resorted to climbing on hands and knees by the time she reached this spot. There, below her, off to her right was what looked amazingly like one of the roads she'd sought all day.

"Jeez Louise," she huffed and then laughed out loud. That phrase, one of her mother's favorites, had certainly come from somewhere deep in her memory.

Pushing hair that had come loose from her braid out of her sweat-dampened face, she realized she'd better begin to think of where she'd set up camp for the night. The sun was already sinking low in the western sky so darkness couldn't be too far off.

Pushing away all thoughts of how uncomfortable she was with spending a night out in the open by herself, she forged down the side of the rise, headed for the cover of trees and the river beyond.

Another river. It was amazing that Scotland had any dry land at all, considering how many rivers riddled her mass. But with this one, thank goodness, she'd also caught sight of the road and where there was a road, there would have to be a spot to cross the water.

For tonight, though, she didn't want to be anywhere near that road. Just in case Dick's men traveled it.

Her stomach rumbled with the hunger she'd tried to ignore for the last few hours. "Just a little farther," she whispered, encouraging herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until, at last, she reached the water's edge.