Her Highland Defender (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Barbara Bard

  “Are you leaving now?” Agatha asked.

  Eamon nodded. “Aye…but I shall return, me love.” He kissed her, donning his tunic and heading toward the door. He did not look back as he left, and after he closed the door behind him, Agatha silently wept and feared for her lover’s safety the rest of the day.

  Eamon headed over to the stables, Connor and Gavina waiting for him with their collective group of warriors.

  “Here is the plan,” Gavina said, gesturing to Connor. “Connor’s men will stay here and guard the village. Eamon and I will ride out with our people tae confront Simon and the Hands of God. We ride east. At this hour, I am certain that we will stumble across them by nightfall. We ride hard. Fast. We will fight hard. Fast. There is nae a thing mair left tae be discussed. We ken our mission. We ken what we hae tae dae. Are there any questions?”

  Eamon looked around at each of the warriors, none of them questioning a thing as they waited for the order to move out.

  “Let’s go,” Eamon said, each of the warriors mounting their horses and preparing to ride.

  At the head of the group, Eamon and Gavina stayed side-by-side, looking behind at the men as they prepared to leave the village.

  “For Finlay Baird,” Gavina said.

  Eamon looked at his aunt and nodded. “For Finlay Baird,” he replied.

  They led the charge, Gavina, Eamon, and the Bairdsmen riding hard and fast out of the village and headed east, ready to confront Simon and the Hands of God so they could end the whole ordeal once and for all.

  Chapter 27

  Agatha was nervously biting her thumbnails as Rose entered the cottage. She turned around, forcing a smile as Rose approached her. “Good evening,” she said.

  “Are ye alright?” Rose inquired.

  Agatha nodded. “Yes. I am just worried about Eamon.”

  Rose closed the door behind her. “I ken,” she said. “And I dae tae. But I take comfort in knowing that me brother is one of the finest warriors in all of the Highlands, second only tae me aunt Gavina.”

  “She seems fearsome,” Agatha said. “Your aunt.”

  “Aye. Indeed, she is. I dinnae think there is a single member in our family who is nae.”

  “I am surprised you do not fight. Is that by choice?”

  Rose nodded as she moved to a chair and sat down, sighing from the exertion that she had put out due to the day’s events. “Aye,” she said. “I ken how tae yield a blade, but I prefer nae tae. I am much better with medicines, with assisting in helping others with their health. It feels mair rewarding.”

  “But I bet,” Agatha said as she sat across from Rose, “that if someone tried to bring harm to you, to fight you, that you would be more than capable of repelling an attack.”

  Rose grinned. “Perhaps…it has happened mair than once. I hae me father and mother tae thank fer those skills.”

  Agatha took a moment. “I am sorry,” she said, “about your father. I am sorry for all of you.”

  Rose nodded. “It is a sad day. But Eamon is right—he is in a better place. I take comfort in that.”

  “Eamon said the same.”

  “Is he doing alright? When you last spoke to him, what was the sense you had?”

  “That he is sad. But he is still strong. He is hellbent on ridding the Highlands of Simon and the Hands of God.”

  A nod from Rose. “As we all are. This fight will end one way or another. But I am confident we will be victorious.”

  Agatha drew a breath. “What if they do come here?” she asked. “What if they do intend to attack the village?”

  Rose forked a thumb over her shoulder. “Connor is a competent warrior. I trust that we will be alright with him leading the charge on this end.”

  “Will you take up the sword if need be?”

  “If need be,” Rose said, “I will. I shall defend me village until me last breath, if need be.”

  Agatha bit her lip, curious to dig deeper into Rose’s past. “How come you never married?”

  “I hae nae found the right man yet is all,” Rose said. ‘’I am content with me life, of course. I guess I just need to find the right person.” She leaned in. “But ye fancy me brother. That is apparent.”

  Agatha smiled. “Very apparent, no?”

  Rose laughed. “He is a good man. Me brother is hardheaded, but he is trustworthy. A bit of a handful though. Ye seen how mad he has driven his family at times.”

  “But it reflects a good heart.”

  Rose nodded. “Aye. It does.” She stood up, walked over to Agatha and took her hand. “He has chosen well. I can see ye as being a good addition tae our family.”

  A tear slid down Agatha’s cheek. She stood up and hugged Rose, the two of them feeling a sisterly bond that they had never experienced before.

  ***

  Gavina and Eamon, leading their pack of Bairdsmen, came to a forested area a half-day’s ride from the village. The sun was in the early stages of settling, and the group was slowing their ride to conserve their energy.

  Eamon scanned the area. “Any signs?” he asked Gavina. “Dae ye see anything?”

  Gavina searched for a moment, squinting as she tried to spot anything out of the ordinary. “Nae yet,” she said. “Perhaps we should break fer a moment. The horses look tired. I think they require some rest.”

  Eamon nodded. “Good idea. We should eat as well. We may nae hae the chance again soon.”

  Gavina gave the order, the Bairdsmen slowing down and dismounting their horses. Each member of the Bairdsmen tended to his or her animal, feeding and patting them as they took a five-minute reprieve.

  “Five minutes,” Gavina said to Eamon. “But naw longer than that. We maist keep moving.”

  They stood next to one another, breathing in the air and taking a moment to stretch their legs. Eamon felt it in his bones that the Hands of God were close, that the moment of battle was near. He was confident and scared, ready yet apprehensive. He questioned how much of it was sheer nerves and how much of it was due to the fact that he just wanted to return to Agatha and see her face once again.

  “Yer mind drifts,” Gavina said.

  Eamon blinked himself out of his trance. “I am thinking of Agatha.”

  “She is a fine woman.”

  “Aye. She is.”

  “Will ye marry her?”

  Eamon rolled his eyes. “Ye are the second person tae ask me that.”

  Gavina shrugged. “It is nae an unreasonable question.”

  “There are other matters at hand.”

  “But ye love her—don’t ye?”

  Eamon took a moment to reply and nodded. “Aye. I dae. I never thought I would again after me wife passed. I question sometimes if that is wrong.”

  “Tae love mair than one person?”

  Eamon nodded.

  Gavina shook her head. “The heart is meant tae grow. It is only by our own prohibitions that it can decrease in size. There is naw such thing as just one person, one special someone.”

  Eamon squinted. “Then why get married?”

  “I am nae saying ye can’t. I did. I loved me husband. I still dae. But, aye, there is a possibility that there is another man out there that I can love. I just choose nae tae.”

  “Why? Ye said so yerself that the heart is meant tae love mair than just one.”

  “It is—but I choose nae tae. I just…dinnae want tae.”

  Eamon thought a moment. “Then yer logic is nae sound.”

  Gavina squinted. “How dae ye figure?”

  “Because ye choose nae tae find a new love because of yer deceased husband.”

  Gavina shook her head. “That is nae why. I choose nae tae find a new love because me focus has been on me clan, me family. It has been a long vicious campaign that we hae fought, and tae me, at least right noo, finding a new love is a distraction.”

  Eamon poked himself in his chest with his thumb. “Then what of me? Am I distracting myself with Agatha?”

  Gavina turned to
Eamon. “Nae fer ye.”

  “How dae ye figure?”

  “Because this woman has brought light into yer life again, Eamon. She has made ye smile again. Many of us thought that ye would never bring yerself back from the brink after yer wife died. Many of us feared that…well, that ye would hae died of a broken heart.”

  Eamon looked away. The thought had occurred to him as well. So many days had gone by after his wife’s passing where he just felt like he could not live anymore. The hole in his heart felt like it was well past the point of being patched, irreparable damage having been done to it and causing his soul to decay—but then Agatha came along. A woman he never expected to bring such joy back into his life.

  Eamon smiled, thinking of Agatha’s face as Gavina spoke.

  “See,” Gavina said, gesturing to Eamon’s expression. “I told ye—she brings light into yer life. Ye should seize it. Dinnae let it go…”

  Eamon opened his mouth to reply to Gavina—but then a scent of smoke invaded his nostrils. He turned his head up, breathing in the air as his eyes scanned the area feverishly.

  “What is it?” Gavina asked.

  “Ye dinnae smell that?” Eamon said. “The smoke?”

  Gavina sniffed the air, taking a moment to pick up on what Eamon was sniffing out. “Wait,” she said. “I dae. I can smell it.”

  They marched forward, looking from left-to-right as they took note of every tree, stump, and shrub. They searched for just under a minute, finding nothing as they turned in a circle and tried to locate the source of the scent.

  “Someone is burning something,” Eamon said. “It is nae far from here.”

  Eamon then noted that the smell of smoke was growing, coating his throat as he licked his lips and tasted trace amount of ash. “Aye,” he said. “Something is burning something…and the fire is big.”

  They continued walking toward the edge of the forest, about thirty feet away from the rest of the Bairsdmen. When they came to a clearing that looked out into a field—both of their eyes went wide with horror.

  ***

  “My Lord,” Simon prayed, on his knees near the base of a tree, his hands folded in prayer as he closed his eyes. “I ask for your wisdom. I ask for your protective hand. We are about to embark on our final crusade, and I ask that you guide me and my men toward victory. We do these things for you, Lord, and I ask for a steady hand as I commit this act against the Baird’s…”

  Simon stayed in silence for a few more moments, mumbling under his breath before saying “amen” and stepping away from the tree.

  One of the Hands of God, one of the new recruits that Simon had brought into his circle, ran up to him hastily. “Simon,” the man said.

  Simon faced the man. “What is it?”

  “Our scouts say that riders approach in the distance.”

  Simon turned around, scanning the forested area a half-mile away. He smiled, sensing the presence of intruders though there were no visible signs. Simon wanted the fight. He welcomed it. “How far?” he asked the man.

  “A little over a half mile,” the man said. “He says there are fifty of them in total. That is mair than our own numbers.”

  Simon dismissed the comment with the wave of his hand. “God is on our side,” he said. “Do not worry about that.”

  “What should we dae though? The riders are approaching soon.”

  Simon turned to his left, an open field of wheat stretching for two acres beside him. He knew without a doubt that it was the Baird’s who were approaching. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue.

  “Get me a torch,” Simon said.

  “What dae ye plan on doing?” the man asked.

  “Burn the fields. Tell the men to move around and head through the forest on the left-hand side. I will buy us some time.”

  The man nodded, retreating and returning moments later with a lit torch.

  “Go,” Simon ordered the man. “Ride now, all of you. I will rejoin you all shortly.”

  Simon stepped out into the wheat fields as the man retreated, rallied the Hands of God, mounted their horses, and took off. He held the torch behind him, lighting the wheat and setting it ablaze as he stood in the center of the field and waited. Moments later—the Bairdsmen arrived at the edge of the forest, Gavina and Eamon in the lead and staring straight at Simon from a hundred yards away. Simon smiled and waited as the Bairdsmen started to rush toward him.

  Chapter 28

  Eamon saw the wheat fields burning with the same ferocity of the sun, the night sky ablaze with orange hues, the heat vibrant and scorching and licking at his skin. With Gavina beside him, they led the Bairdsmen in a collective huddle toward the edge of the clearing leading into the fields—and his eyes went wide when he saw Simon standing in the center of the blaze.

  “Me God,” Gavina said. “The man has gone mad.”

  Eamon shook his head, tightening the grip on his reins and preparing his steed to march into a gallop at a moment’s notice. “Naw,” he said. “He went mad a long time ago. I am nae sure what tae call this.”

  “The fields are tae hot,” one of the Bairdsmen said. “We cannae gae oot there!”

  Eamon looked around, trying to spot an opening to ride into. Simon waited in the center of the field, enough room around him that the fire was not touching him. Eamon rode forward a few feet, Gavina following beside him. He wanted to get close enough that Simon would be able to hear his voice from a distance.

  “Simon!” Eamon shouted out.

  Simon jutted his chin. “Eamon Baird,” he called out. “We meet again at last.”

  Eamon was seething, gritting his teeth as he looked upon the face of pure evil. Simon’s face glowed maniacally in the flames, a glimmer in his eye that looked almost black in the light.

  “Where are the rest of yer men?” Eamon called out.

  Simon shrugged. “Far from here, Highlander. And I doubt ye will able tae stop the inevitable.”

  “Enough of this! Ye are a madman! Stop this endless crusade of bloodshed.”

  “Blood that is being shed for God almighty, my friend. Again—you cannot stop the inevitable. You cannot stop the Will of God.”

  Eamon looked to Gavina. He knew that there was no bartering with the man. No reasoning. No point in trying to negotiate or level with him in any way whatsoever.

  “What dae we dae?” Gavina said. “This will only end one way.”

  Eamon took a moment, the fire still consuming the fields, narrowly missing Simon. For a brief second, Eamon felt that God himself was saving Simon from total annihilation.

  “Enough of this,” Eamon said to Gavina. “I am going tae tell him.”

  “Tell him what?” Gavina said.

  Eamon moved his horse forward a few more feet. “The truth…” he said as he jutted his chin and held his head high.

  Simon cocked his head, resting his palm on the grip of his sword and anticipating the incoming fight. “Is this the final moment?” he called out. “Are we about to engage in battle, Highlander?”

  “Naw,” Eamon said. “I am going tae tell ye something.”

  Simon shook his head. “There is not a thing you can say to me Highlander that will change what we both know is going to happen.”

  “Even if I told ye that yer wife and child are still alive?”

  Simon’s face went slack, his crooked smile melting as he heard the words cut through him to the core. He took a step forward, glaring at Eamon as he clenched his teeth. “What did you say to me, Highlander?”

  “Ye heard me,” Eamon said.

  “I hear lies.”

  “I am telling ye the truth. I ken all aboot yer past, Simon. I ken of why ye embarked on this crusade tae begin with. Ye were led tae believe that yer wife and child were slaughtered, aye?”

  Simon said nothing—still glaring at Eamon.

  “Aye,” Eamon continued. “I ken that it is true. Again, I ken mair aboot ye that ye think I dae.”

  “You know nothing.”

  �
�I ken that ye were led tae think that those ye love perished, that they burned tae death in a fire and were escorted tae the gates of heaven…but this is nae true. They were taken by the Sassenach Lord ye once served, sold tae a man who fancied yer wife.”

  Simon drew his sword, gripping it tightly with both hands, the steel shimmering in the blaze as his knuckled turned white. “Bite your tongue, Eamon! You know nothing!”