How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds)

by Michelle McLean

  She wrapped her cloak tightly about her and went into the woods, following the path Rob had taken. Taking care to make no sound, she moved slowly, staying hidden in the trees and bushes. Every few steps she’d stop and listen. But the only sound she heard was her own breathing.

  Finally, she came to a spot where the trees were thinner, creating a small clearing. There was evidence that several horses had been through. But there were none about now. No men either, but there were boot prints in the mud.

  And no Rob.

  She remained hunched in the bushes, debating if she should explore further or give up and go back to Will. The shot could have come from anyone. Perhaps Rob was shooting to scare off an animal. Yet another reason she should get back to the cottage. And if he’d been shooting at an enemy, she didn’t want to stick around and see who it was. The thought of Rob needing help was the only thing that made her decide to stay for a few more minutes. She couldn’t risk going farther out into the clearing. From that point on, the trees thinned out and there wouldn’t be any place for her to hide.

  She’d finally determined to go back to the cottage when a raspy sigh stopped her. Heart thudding in her ears, she listened again. It was coming from several yards away. She crept closer, her dagger tight in her hand. A boot stuck out from under one of the bushes, and she eased over. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be in a position to threaten her.

  With a final glance around to make sure there was no one else nearby, she finally pushed through the remaining bushes and uncovered the man lying on the forest floor.

  “Rob,” she gasped, dropping to her knees beside him.

  He blinked up at her when he heard his name. “Miss Rose?”

  Her hands quickly searched him, looking for his wound.

  Wounds, it turned out. A shallow dagger wound on his forearm where he’d blocked a blow aimed for his neck. And a more concerning wound from the pistol shot in his thigh.

  She closed her eyes and cursed under her breath. What more could possibly happen to them?

  “Who did this?” she asked.

  He snorted. “I’m no’ sure. Ramsay’s men, mayhap. There were three of them. Came at me from nowhere. They wanted the horse. One o’ them slashed at me, cut my arm and managed to knock me from the saddle. When I tried to run after them, one of them shot me. Then the other horse charged through. Was it yers?”

  Rose nodded and he sighed. “I thought it might be. They were worried about where it had come from, but they werena in any shape to be fighting for it if the owner came looking. They grabbed both horses and left. Or seemed to. I couldna be sure. I didna want to lead them back to ye. They didna seem keen to stay in the area, but I thought to hide here until I was sure they were gone. Just in case. But I must have…must have fallen asleep…maybe…”

  “Shh,” Rose said, pulling the scarf from her neck to wrap around his leg. It wasn’t the cleanest cloth. But it would have to do until she got him back to the cottage.

  “Can you walk if I help you?” she asked.

  Rob stared at her, his pale face pinched with determination. “Aye, miss.”

  She nodded and pocketed her dagger, then looped an arm around his back. It took them a few moments, but they got him on his feet. Getting him back to the cottage was another matter. The forest growth was thick, and there were several places where Rose had to let Rob go and resort to pulling and dragging to help him get through. They were slowed even more by Rob’s insistence they obscure their trail as they moved. She understood the reason and even heartily agreed. But it took time. And every second away from Will stoked her anxiety until she was nearly at her breaking point by the time they reached the cottage.

  She managed to get Rob inside and settled on his pallet from the night before. Then she hurried to Will’s side. He still breathed. He was far too pale aside from his fever-flushed cheeks. But he lived. Considering their circumstances, that was almost more than she dared to hope.

  She sat back on her heels, pressing her hand to her forehead while she took a couple of deep breaths. The pit of panic in her chest squeezed like a vise, and she focused on staying calm. They couldn’t afford for her to lose it now. Both men needed care. And help wasn’t coming.

  “Right, then,” she muttered, getting to her feet.

  First things first. She needed to get Rob patched up and comfortable. Then she should probably get more tea into Will. And she needed to gather more herbs, especially as Rob would be needing them as well. And food. They needed food.

  The panic threatened to spill over again, and she swallowed hard against the tears that burned in her throat. She desperately longed for her old life when the most she had to worry about was whether Lady Alice would like the new hairstyle Rose had fashioned for her, or occasionally helping Cook in the kitchen. But she wasn’t home. She was in the middle of nowhere with two wounded men who were depending on her for their lives. So she tried to push any other thoughts from her mind. There was no time for that.

  She took off her petticoat and ripped a strip from it. She’d shred the rest once she’d gotten Rob taken care of. Between him and Will, she’d need every inch of cloth she had.

  She cleansed his wounds, thanking whatever saints were listening that they weren’t worse. The cut on his arm wasn’t deep enough to need stitching, thankfully. So she cleaned it the best she could and wrapped it tightly.

  His leg wound was another matter. The ball had gone straight through, so at least she didn’t have to dig for it. But it had done a messy job when it had passed through. Again, she cleaned and bandaged it as best she could.

  “Thank ye, miss,” Rob said, his voice quiet and strained. “I’m sorry I couldna help…”

  “Oh, hush,” she said, handing him a cup of cold willow bark tea left over from that morning. “It wasn’t your fault those men were still in the woods. Hopefully, they are gone now.”

  “Aye, I think they are,” he said, grimacing as he sipped. “With their master gone, they have no reason to stick about. Several of their men were wounded as well. I think that is the only reason they were still here. With our horses, they’ll travel that much faster.”

  He grimaced again, and Rose patted his hand.

  “Get some rest. I’m going to gather some more of those herbs that you showed me. I won’t be long.”

  He nodded. “I’ll keep watch over Will until ye return.”

  She knew she should insist he sleep, but knowing he’d be there to keep an eye on Will lifted a huge weight from her shoulders. So instead of protesting, she nodded and patted his hand.

  She didn’t tarry outside but gathered as many herbs and plants as she could in a few minutes and immediately returned.

  She didn’t want to light a fire, too afraid the smoke might draw anyone who still lingered in the forest. But she needed hot water to make tea for both men and to cleanse their wounds. Finally, deciding the benefits were worth the risk, she lit a small fire. But she didn’t sleep a wink that night, jumping at every sound. By morning, when the only things to invade their clearing were a few birds and a rabbit or two, she relaxed enough to doze fitfully by Will’s side. She didn’t touch him again, though, except for when she needed to tend to him. The rush of emotion that had overwhelmed her upon her first sight of him remained. Strengthened, even, with every passing day. But giving in would do little good for either of them.

  If Will survived, he’d be returning to John’s side. Or maybe the clan would send him out on some other fool’s errand. Either way, it would take him in the opposite direction of where Rose belonged. With Lady Alice, who would surely wish to return home after all the danger and heartache of the last few weeks. If she decided to stay with Philip in Scotland…Rose wasn’t sure what she would do.

  Her place was with Lady Alice. But she’d never truly considered leaving London permanently. Scotland had its beauty. But it was a wild, untamed place compared to the city of her birth. And now more than ever, Rose longed for the familiarity of her home.

 
; The next week was a haze of caring for both men. Rob was lucid enough to talk her through setting a trap for small game, and on the second night she managed to catch a fat rabbit. Skinning and dressing it for cooking wasn’t her favorite task and certainly wasn’t something she’d ever had to do before. But once her belly was full of the delicious roasted meat, her squeamishness over the task dissipated greatly.

  Better still was the broth she made from the animal’s bones and some of the herbs she’d found. She managed to get a good portion of it into William. He needed the nourishment desperately, and if it meant skinning a hundred rabbits to keep his cheeks from growing sunken and hollow, she’d do it.

  By the second week, Will had improved enough he could sit up, and he stayed awake for longer and longer periods of time. Rob managed to hobble around with the aid of a tree branch he’d found. He still couldn’t do much, but he took over herb gathering and animal trapping for Rose. She didn’t want him to do too much, but she was grateful for the help. Mostly because it meant she could spend more time with Will.

  He’d graduated from eating a mash she’d make of a handful of oats, broth, and whatever meat Rob had found to eating the meat straight from the bone. But he still couldn’t stand for more than a few minutes before he broke out in a sweat. Still, the improvement was heartening to her. Anything was better than him lying beside the fire looking pale as death.

  And at night when she lay beside him, he now wrapped his arm about her and held her close to his side. They never spoke of it. It never went any further. But each continued to seek out comfort from the other in the dark of night.

  As horrible as the last weeks had been, Rose would miss those quiet moments in the night. They couldn’t continue once they made it home. She and Will had an unspoken truce while they focused on surviving, but that would surely end once they were safe. She could hardly imagine what life would look like then. They’d done little else since that morning he’d taken her. They’d gone from one danger-laden situation to the next. How would they even interact with each other without death hanging over their heads? The few moments they’d had that were not fraught with danger had been filled with their bickering. Perhaps they could get along only at the point of a gun.

  It was a sobering notion. But not one she had to dwell on yet. Will was improving, but he couldn’t travel yet. So for now, she’d lay her head on his chest and pretend it was the most natural thing in the world. Thoughts of the future could wait.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Will’s strength returned little by little. Each day he could feel the difference. His side ached a little less. His limbs ceased their trembling every time he moved. His arm was almost back to new. It was the other wound that still gave him trouble. It was healing as well as he could have hoped. There was no sign of infection and, aside from the initial fever the first few days, he’d been mostly lucid. Except he slept more than a newborn babe and felt about as weak.

  A circumstance made all the more frustrating because of the beautiful woman who slept by his side every night.

  She touched him as little as possible during the day. Something he both hated and appreciated. The heat burning between them grew more unbearable, and there was little he could, or should, do about it. Even if his physical condition was much improved. They both knew that nothing could come of furthering their connection but heartache. He belonged at Kirkenroch, with John. And she…she belonged back in England. Back in the grand houses where she’d grown up, where she’d be safe from marauding villains and surly Highlanders. Where she could go back to caring for dresses and jewelry instead of bleeding wounds and dying men.

  During the day, he reminded himself of all that. Reminded himself that they didn’t belong together. That she had a home far from there where she longed to be. That they had responsibilities that pulled them in different directions. Not to mention the sore point she’d never forgive him for. He’d stolen her. Put her in danger. Dragged her from one end of England to the far end of Scotland and had made her life miserable every step of the way.

  Even if that weren’t the case, he’d proven pretty conclusively that everything he touched, he destroyed. The decisions he made on instinct, like taking her, had turned out disastrously. The decisions he agonized over, thinking over every aspect, like sending Kirkenroch’s men to Glenlyon—those turned out even worse. Even if he thought for a split second he and Rose might have something between them, his decisions were the last anyone should follow. He had no right to think of anything but returning Rose to her home.

  He had no right to long for anything else. To count the hours until night fell. Because at night…at night, after she’d toiled the day away, she slipped down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, her hand covering his heart. Perhaps she felt he was too wounded, and she was too tired for there to be any danger of anything more than sleep. Or perhaps after an entire day of staying away, it was too much to do so once the sun set. He didn’t care. He knew only that he lived for the moment when she secured the door with the tree branch she’d hauled inside, banked the fire for the night, and wordlessly lay down beside him.

  Rose continued to amaze him. Somehow, she’d managed to not only save his life, but Rob’s as well. The dainty lady’s maid who he’d thought was too soft to do more than fold her mistress’s silk stockings was now trapping and skinning game, gutting fish, and sewing up gaping wounds like she’d been born to it. If it hadn’t been for her, he’d be dead.

  If he were honest, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about her saving his life. He’d meant to die. A just punishment in his mind for the harm he’d brought to those he loved. He’d brought the devil to their very door. A solitary death in the woods was nothing more than justice.

  But his harpy-tongued guardian angel had swooped in and saved his life, and he’d been too far gone to stop her. And then, for good measure, she’d saved Rob’s as well. Despite knowing next to nothing about surviving in the rough, she’d kept them breathing. More than that. She’d made them alive and whole again.

  Rob watched her with a sort of worshipful expression that made Will want to throttle the boy within an inch of his life. An overreaction, to be sure. But one he couldn’t help. Though he understood the emotion. She was their savior.

  By the third week, Rob was able to walk without the aid of his crutch. Mostly. He still used it from time to time, but he didn’t totally rely upon it to get around. After a few days of ambling around the cottage without tiring, he seemed to have come to a decision.

  “I think I should leave in the morning,” he said. “Ye’re much better, Will. But ye still willna be able to travel on foot for a week at least yet. Maybe more. But if I make it to Kirkenroch, I can bring back horses.”

  “But your leg,” Rose protested. Will watched her, trying to ascertain if she protested out of a sense of concern for his leg. Or something else. But her expression betrayed nothing but worry that he’d reinjure himself.

  “It’s much better,” Rob pointed out. “Not totally healed yet, no. But I can walk well enough. It might take me a day to reach the manor. Maybe even two. But even with that I’d be able to return with help to get ye home much sooner than if ye waited until ye were fully healed.”

  Will nodded. It was a good plan, but part of him would be sad to leave the little cocoon they’d made for themselves. He would not be sorry to see Rob go, however. The lad had been a tremendous help. But with Rob gone, there would be only he and Rose, alone in the cottage. It would be nice to finally have some privacy for when they were awkwardly avoiding each other.

  Rose still frowned and looked at Will. “Are we sure it’s safe?”

  He nodded. “Aye. Once Ramsay was felled, there would be no reason for his men to stay and risk their necks. The men of Kirkenroch and Glenlyon would have been sent to search the woods and rout any who remained.”

  “If that is true, why did they not find us?”

  Will waved that off. “As I’ve told ye before, I’ve been coming
to this place since I was a wee lad. If ye dinna ken what ye’re looking for, ye’d pass right by without the faintest idea what was here.”

  “Yes, but…” Rose frowned and shook her head. “Never mind. If you feel like you can make such a journey…” Her gaze flicked to Will and then back. “We would be very grateful.”

  “I’m much stronger, miss,” Rob assured her. “Ye healed me well.”

  Rose’s cheeks blushed a faint pink, and Will frowned. Then berated himself for it. He couldn’t fault the lad for mooning over Rose. She was quite the woman.

  The next morning, they helped Rob prepare for his journey. Rose frowned as she handed him the bag she’d packed full of food.

  “Will it be enough do you think?” she asked.

  “Aye,” Will said. “It’s about twenty miles to Kirkenroch. Were he fully healed, he could make that distance by nightfall. As it is, he should still make it by tomorrow. The day after at the latest.” He frowned a little, watching while Rob filled his waterskin at the stream that ran by the cottage. “As long as he doesna push himself too hard and takes care to rest that leg, he should reach the manor without too much trouble. Ye’ve packed him enough food to last a week at least.”

  Rose snorted softly. “His strength hasn’t fully returned yet. It took me weeks to get him back on his feet. I don’t want him starving to death so close to home.”

  Will rested his hand on the back of her neck, and she stiffened at first, but relaxed as he softly massaged her muscles. Rob turned back to them, waterskins full. Will kept his arm about Rose’s shoulders until she stepped forward to hand Rob his stick.

  “I know you don’t think you need it, but you might be grateful for it later in the day.”

  Rob looked like he wanted to argue but took it from her anyway.

  “Be sure to take lots of rests. Don’t push yourself,” she said. “We’ve lasted here this long, we’ll be fine a few more days. Stay in the trees if you can. I know Ramsay’s men should be gone but…”