Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge) (13 page)

Read Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge) Online

Authors: Heather McCollum

Tags: #magic, #pirates, #Scotland, #Scottish, #highlander, #paranormal, #romance, #historical, #series, #England, #witches

BOOK: Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge)
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There! Something floated in the foam. He kicked off, powerful strokes cutting through the black water toward the object. His fingers sank into wet wool, and he turned Jonet until her face was above water. Her pale face looked lifeless, her black hair a tangling of floating silk. Keeping her face above the surface, Will kicked to the bank, his toes catching in the rocky incline. He carried her out of the icy flow and onto the forest floor, dropping in exhaustion and panic.

“Jonet,” he called, brushing strands from her face. Her lids were closed, dark lashes wet spikes against her skin. “Oh God, please Jonet.” He ran his hands over her body, willing it to move. He lay his palm on her chest where a fast beat unhitched the lump in his throat. He turned her on her side and slapped against her back several times.

Pete had pushed air into a lad once when he’d nearly drowned. Will rolled her onto her back and covered her cold lips with his own. He blew into her and sat back. “Come back to me.” He rubbed his arm across his mouth, diving back to blow more air into her. A faint rumble moved from deep inside Jonet, and she convulsed upward, water gurgling out of her. He tipped her to her side as more gushed from her lips. “Oh God, Jonet, aye.” She started to cough, and he slapped her back some more.

There was movement above him. Stephen. He looked up to see Ewan and Searc leaping down from their mounts. Searc rushed to Nickum, who stood over Stephen while Ewan ran down to him. Jonet continued to cough and vomited. All signs of life. Thank the good, good Lord!

He ran his hands along her body. Bloody hell, where was Dory? Jonet could be bleeding inside.

Searc yelled something down to Ewan as he lifted Stephen across his horse. Ewan nodded and brought Bart over to where Will held Jonet, gently rocking her, supporting her while she fought for more breaths and spit water.

“Are ye hurt?” Ewan asked and tried to take Jonet from him, but he shook his head and held on. “Let me take her,” Ewan said. “Ye’re weakened from the fall.”

His words made sense, but Will couldn’t let go. “I can’t. I won’t let her go.” The words echoed inside Will.
I won’t let her go. I can’t let her go
. When he’d seen her go over the falls…his reality had paused. Nothing else had mattered, only Jonet’s life, as if his own depended on her very breath. He’d never felt anything so deadly before, so fatal to his own being. “I can’t let her go,” he said again and shook his head at Ewan.

Ewan stared back at him a long moment and finally nodded. “Let’s get ye both on that horse then. Searc has the boy. That dog of his caught yer scent or the boy’s. Led us here.” He helped Will onto Bart’s back. Will’s muscles screamed, and he felt several gashes in his leg and along his hairline. Some of the wetness dripping down his forehead felt warm instead of icy cold. Ewan handed Jonet up to Will, who cradled her in front of him and climbed upon his horse. He led Bart back down the mountain trail in the near-blinding darkness.

Will held Jonet against his warmth. Even though they were both soaked, his body gave off heat, surrounding her. He glanced at Ewan in front of him. “How did you do it?” Will’s voice was strained, and his throat ached.

“What?” Ewan asked, his voice grim.

“Watch Dory walk out of your life in the Tower.”

Ewan guided them around several trees before he answered. “If she died, there was no reason to live.” He looked back at Will. “How did ye jump off an unfamiliar waterfall in pitch-darkness?” He turned back around, the sound of the rushing water fading into the eerie silence of the forest. “Love makes a man do crazy or brave things, depending on how ye look at it.”

Love? Did love hurt this much? Will could hardly breathe as he concentrated on the telltale signs that Jonet was still alive. Every breath from her lips allowed him to inhale, but she lay limp in his arms. He watched the moonlight infuse her face with white as they broke from the forest. She looked like death.

“Go,” Will urged and tugged back the reins from Ewan. “I need to get her to Dory.” He had to save her. If she died… “Now!” Will flew through the night as if death chased him, because it did. If Jonet died, his heart would surely stop.


Cold, so cold… Then heat, burning her… Pain rasped through her chest… A deep exhaustion dragged Jonet’s limbs down as if she were indeed lost in the blackness of the swirling water, but instead of ice, she felt perfectly warm. Her eyelids lay heavy, unmoving, and she drifted in the darkness. Words and voices came together, some Gaelic, some English with strange accents. A familiar, deep timbre that made her heart race crept across the surface, always there even if she couldn’t understand. The warmth of the comfortable darkness pulled her back down. Jonet slept.

The darkness turned reddish, a soft glow with movement in it.

“So, Will Wyatt is dead,” a man said, finishing with a chuckle.

Nay! He couldn’t be dead. If he was dead…she couldn’t survive it. Will? She started to breathe fast. “Nay,” she rasped and forced her eyes to blink. “Will?”

“She’s moving,” said a woman. “Did she say something?”

Jonet blinked, her fingers grabbing along warm wool. “Will?”

“She said your name.” The first man chuckled. “’Tis a good thing she remembers you. Pete once was hit so hard on the noggin, he didn’t know who he was for months.”

“I’m here.” The voice was warm near her ear, and she realized she was being held. “Wake up, Jonet.”

Jonet’s eyed flickered open, and she immediately saw the warm fire before her in a large hearth. A group stood around her, peering closely. But she didn’t see Will.

She blinked. “Will?”

“Right here,” he said behind her. “I’ve got you.” He shifted her on his lap so she could see him.

“Ye’re not dead,” she whispered and cleared her throat.

“She’s reopening her airway,” Dory said as she touched her arm. “She’s healthy, just waking from a shock.”

“Nay, I’m not dead,” Will said.

“But someone said ye were.”

“That was me.” Will’s father stepped into view with a large grin. “We found two dead blokes and reported them as being Will and Ewan so no one can arrest them to get a bounty. They’re already dead and being torn apart in London. Bloody royals.”

He continued, “He can grow a broad beard, cut his hair, and take on a new name. I’m thinking he looks like a Geoff or Jack perhaps.” He laughed.

Jonet stared up into Will’s eyes. She managed to raise her hand, breathing fully again, and touched his face. “I like yer small beard and longish hair. And I love…yer name.”

“I’m ready to go whenever you are,” said Stephen, who appeared next to Captain Bart. Jonet began to push up, and Will helped her. She was wearing dry clothes, and they sat before the fire in the great hall at Munro Castle. Ann stood close and wiped at her eyes. She squeezed Jonet’s hand. Searc and Caden, Donald and Gavin, Meg and Rachel, and Dory all watched her carefully.

“Stephen’s well,” she whispered.

“Aye,” Will said, “but he’ll be scrubbing decks and helping Pete in the kitchens for a year after that foolish, idiotic, stupid act.”

The boy flushed and stepped back into the small crowd. “I’ll follow him,” Searc said. “Not taking any more chances.”

“I think Nickum has taken to following him, too,” Meg said. “Scared the boy terribly last night.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Jonet said and tried to stand, but Will held her in his lap. So she stayed.

“The night, a day…another night,” Will said, and she studied his face. Dark circles stained under his eyes, his hair sat in tangles as if they’d dried with mud still in them. He must have held her the whole time.

“I’m well. Ye can let me down,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “I can’t let you go.” He glanced up at the small crowd. “Dory, get Captain Bart some of that Highland whisky.” His sister looped her arm through his father’s and the group moved over to the far side of the room where Charissa sat on Margery’s knee and laughed at Searc’s dog as it chased its own tail.

“Ye need to clean yerself up,” she said to Will. “Have ye been holding me this whole time?”

He looked back at her. “Ann changed you into dry clothes, and I changed, too.”

“But then ye sat here with me?”

He nodded once. “Dory healed you, but you weren’t waking up.” Jonet felt his hands squeeze her where they held around her back and her legs. “She said you had to wake on your own, that the water in your lungs had been bad—”

“Ye saved me, went over the falls after me, didn’t ye?” He nodded again once. “Bloody hell, Will, ye could have died.”

“And you would have if I hadn’t gone over,” he said and sat her up. He rubbed his chin and down his face. He looked aged from worry or lack of sleep. “And then possibly anyways except that Dory saved you or Meg or Rachel. God’s teeth, they all flashed their blue light over and through you.”

She felt him shiver. “It was…bloody, swiving hell, Jonet,” he rasped and pulled her closer. “I thought…I thought I’d lost you. I’ve never been scared before—never, not even when I was alone in that ship’s hull. But when you wouldn’t wake… I wouldn’t let them take you away from me.”

Jonet pulled closer to him and gave him a sweet, warm kiss. “But we’re both alive.” The words, though wonderful, also reminded her. “Unless ye go back to yer ship. Then Will Wyatt is dead,” she whispered.

He looked closely into her eyes. The deep brown of his orbs were shot with rays of gold. She studied them, memorizing them. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “If I go back to the
Queen Siren
, if I leave you here, I will die.”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowed in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her. “And you can’t go to sea, Jonet. It is too dangerous, especially without Dory there to heal you if anything happens. I can’t…stand the thought of you being hurt, of you dying. So, there’s just one thing that can happen.”

She held her breath and waited.

A small grin caught at his lips, turning the serious, dark expression into one that she recognized. “I was rather hoping to honor my pledge to you, Jonet Montgomery.” His grin turned into a smile. “I can start with building that new roof on the orphanage, but I believe there was another part to my oath. I seem to remember something about a lifetime of servitude.”

Jonet couldn’t breathe. Tears welled in her eyes. He caught one on his thumb as he continued, “You are the most caring, honest, beautiful person I’ve ever met. When I thought I’d lost you,” his grin faltered, “well hell, I won’t lose you again. So I’d like to shackle you to me.” He nodded and smiled. “For life.”

“Shackle?” she asked, her voice a little squeak.

“Aye, I believe folks call it getting wed.”

The tears blurred her vision as Jonet lunged for Will’s neck, wrapping him in a hug and kissing his cheeks, his once-broken nose, the scar down the side of his face. He chuckled and brought her face level with his. “Is that a yes?”

“Aye,” she said. “I accept yer offer, Will Wyatt, a lifetime of servitude and shackled to me for life.”

“Shall that be part of the vows?” he asked.

She brushed his lips with hers. “Most definitely.”

“I love you, Jonet.” He kissed her gently. “I didn’t even know what it was before, thought it was a foolish notion, perhaps real for some, but not for me.”

She kissed his lips, stroking his hair back from his handsome face. “And I love ye, my scoundrel pirate,” she said.

“Aye, wench,” he answered and smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Ye may have tamed me into love, but together our hearts will always be wild.” He leaned forward over her and slanted her head to deepen the kiss. It warmed Jonet’s heart, and she knew with Will, she would never be cold again.

Epilogue

Four Years Later

“Bart will be fine,” Will said as he and Jonet rode along the pebbled path.

“His name is Bartholomew,” Jonet corrected. “We did not name our son after a horse.”

Will laughed. “Well, Captain Bart is often called a horse’s arse.” He hugged his lovely wife’s arms to his chest as they swayed together in the saddle. “Either way, he will be fine. Aunt Dory is keeping him safe.”

“Dory and Ewan have their own bairn to worry over.”

“She keeps Bartholomew and Caroline together,” Will said, “Margery helps, too, and Charissa feels like it’s her responsibility to follow after her toddling brother.”

Jonet sighed against his back. “I know. I just hate leaving them.”

“All adventures from home start with a bit of sadness, but you’ll enjoy our trip on the sea,” he said. He could almost smell the ocean breeze already. It had been two years since they had wed, two thrilling years of adventurous loving and living. Their son had been born nine months after their vows and had just weaned completely to solid food. It was the perfect time for them to travel before Will got her with child again.

“Charissa and Bartholomew will just laze about without me there to prod them. Margery is staying with them, but will she make certain they are helping Dory with the other children? I’ve left Dory with so much to do.”

“Woman, you worry too much. They are all perfectly happy running your beautiful orphans’ home.” Will chuckled. “Meg will have them planting flower boxes and stringing blooms to make the cheery inside even prettier for those lucky little ones you’ve given a home. Dory will divide the chores between the older girls, including taking care of Bart…Bartholomew. Little Caroline wants to be there all day anyway. Dory said she thinks it’s her home since it shares her name—Caroline Brody Home for Loved Orphans.”

“Well, they are both named after Ewan’s mother, a tribute to a brave and loving protector of children,” she said and smiled. “Speaking of protectors of children, ’twill be good to see yer father.” She tipped her head back, letting the sun shine on her face. “And Stephen. I hope the lad is finding his place in the world.”

Will watched the sides of the path for some time, marveling at the green beauty in this land that he was starting to think of as his own. It was raw and unpredictable just like the sea and could swallow the unwary without a second thought. Aye, the world was a wondrous place.

“Are ye sure ye don’t miss it?” she asked softly against his back.

“Ah, the freedom of the sea,” he said wistfully and felt her stiffen. He kept his chuckle inside. “And the moldy bread, the smell of human waste at port, sleeping with a bunch of stinky men in hammocks, the cannibals who don’t like to share their fruits, pissing off the bow. Ah, so much to miss.”

She laughed and batted at his arm. He let Bart continue to plod along the path as he pulled Jonet to sit in front of him in the saddle.

“Ye know ye can’t ride long like this,” she reminded him and rubbed into his body. “I’ll drive ye insane with lust.” She stared at him wantonly.

He growled in her ear. “There’s no hurry to get there. The captain knows we have to deliver Dory’s package first. It could take another week. Perhaps we’ll make camp early this eve.”

She giggled as he nuzzled her ear. “Ye packed the box; ye’re sure?”

Will reached to the leather bag strapped to the back of Bart. His fingers easily felt the wooden container, dubbed Pandora’s box, after the fabled box that held all the evils in the world. Right now it held the Tudor rose ring that had been given to Dory by her mother.

Word had reached Druim of the search for the Wellington Witch, the name Dory had been burdened with after her escape from London. Ewan and Dory had decided it was time to let King Henry VIII know that they had indeed found the traitor in his court, fulfilling their obligations to the thorny monarch. Maybe then he wouldn’t care that Dory and Ewan still lived.

The traitor would be unveiled since the ring was inscribed with the crafty bastard’s name. Even though the man no longer posed a threat to Henry and his princesses, the man had continued the hunt for Dory, thus prompting her to reveal his traitorous past. It was his own quest to save himself that would lead to his doom.

“No worries. I wouldn’t forget it.” Will turned back to his love. “We’ll send it through the boy Dory saved from poison at court and then head to the port at Barry where the
Queen Siren
waits. Then off to exotic lands.”

“Islands with grapes and coconuts?” she asked blissfully.

“Aye,” he nuzzled her neck, “and there’s a certain little book that I plan to borrow from Adela.”

Jonet gasped and laughed as Will pounced.

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