by Hazel Hunter
The door opened behind him, and Broden came to survey the assembled fleeces. “A convincing sham. She’s a clever one, your lass.”
Edane sat down and picked up an arrow to be fletched. “Aye, so clever she deceived us all, and near burned Kiaran alive. She’s no my lass, and I’ve been a blind fool. What more would you crow at me?”
“You left before Rosealise asked if she spies for the Sluath. Nellie couldnae recall.” Broden gathered up the fleeces and stuffed them in a basket. “I reckon no’, else they’d have compelled her to signal them somehow to come for us. I’ll wager she meant only to escape what she believed a demon prison, and stole to provision herself for the journey. No’ unlike as we did when we left the Moss Dapple.”
He met the trapper’s gaze. “You defend what she’s done?”
“We concealed as much from her as she did from us. Kiaran’s spitefulness toward the lass didnae help.” He paused. “You’ll soon snap that.” Broden took the arrow creaking in his tight fingers and set it aside. “I reckon in her place, with what she saw, I might have fled.”
“What did Domnall with her?” Edane hated himself for asking, but he had to know.
“Jenna made up a bed for her in the old pantry. I blocked the doors so she cannae get out again.” The trapper crossed his arms over chest. “What would you have from the lass, Brother?”
“Naught.” Edane felt offended by the suggestion. “Nellie doesnae care for me or anyone but herself. All she said to me, ’twas but more lies.”
“Likely why she asked me to tell you again that she’s sorry, through the pantry door as I set the barricades.” Broden smiled a little. “Likely she did so that she might dupe you once more into…” He paused and rubbed his chin. “Do you ken, I cannae fathom Nellie’s purpose in coddling your affections. Did she filch your bows? Wheedle from you some waterskins? Take your pouch of baubles?”
Edane eyed his brother. “I showed her the way to leave. I told her how we came to the castle. She took from me all she needed to escape.”
The trapper nodded. “Aye, truly evil work. For that I’ll have Kiaran beat her in the morn, and you may watch, to delight in the suffering she so richly deserves.”
“Enough.” Edane felt even more foolish now. “I’ve but myself to blame for growing attached to the lass. I thought better of her, and my pride’s bruised. But aye, I’ll stop being a facking wench about it. ’Twill satisfy you?”
“I’d have a truth that wasnae spoken tonight.” Broden gave him a measuring look. “You recall the lure Nectan bid us use on that old stag who kept trampling our snares and raiding the gardens?”
“A young hind in rut.”
The hunt he referred to had been ordered by Domnall’s father, who had wanted the stag’s magnificent curving antlers to adorn his broch. They had used the breeding female to lure the old rascal into a valley, and then, curiously, Domnall had refused to end him. He’d instead chased the stag out of their lands.
“I’m to take charge of the lass on the morrow,” the trapper said. “I’ll teach her to tend to the cows in the morning, put out a lure, and learn what I may.”
Edane hated the idea, but shrugged to show his indifference. “What matters that to me?”
Broden smiled. “You’ll be watching as I do.”
Chapter Seventeen
THE ROOM WHERE Domnall and Jenna had put Nellie had no windows, but as she woke, she felt the light of dawn inside, as if her body knew the sun had risen. Tired and defeated, she sat up on the blanket-padded pallet and waited for her eyes to adjust to the thin darkness.
Back behind the eight ball again.
The chieftain’s wife had spoken at length with her before they’d barricaded her inside, and now she felt like a dimwit for everything she’d assumed from her touch visions. But Jenna had been kind, if a bit more reserved with her, and insisted that the Mag Raith wouldn’t hurt her for stealing and lying to them.
“Domnall’s not happy about the situation,” the architect admitted. “We’re also concerned about how the Sluath may have tampered with your memory. If you do recall anything about the underworld, you should tell me now. It could help a lot in figuring out how we should move forward.”
Telling Jenna about the vision she had shared with Edane during their petting party had made Nellie cringe. But she was sure the archer would have already let the others know about it, and she had no reason to keep lying now.
Instead of disgusting the other woman, her memories seemed to reassure her.
“We think the Sluath gave me and Rosealise to Domnall and Mael as bed slaves,” Jenna said, astounding her. “So, it’s just the reverse with you and Edane. The fact is that you two did meet in the underworld, and had feelings for each other.” She frowned. “I wonder why they didn’t treat Edane like the other hunters.”
“He was sick, I think,” Nellie told her. “In the vision he looked much thinner and kind of frail, too, even before the big one beat him. I said something about his chest, like he had an injury.” She ducked her head. “I should have tried to stop Danar from hurting him.”
“You probably would have gotten a beating, too,” the other woman said as she picked up the lantern. “Nellie, until we get to the bottom of this, we’re going to keep you here at Dun Chaill. I don’t like it, but it seems like the best way to keep everyone safe.”
“And when you find out why I was dumped in the glen?” she countered. “What happens to me then?”
“By then maybe you’ll want to stay.” With a smile Jenna left.
Now outside the door Nellie heard someone moving a heavy weight, and it opened to reveal Rosealise with a clean gown and a lantern.
“I thought you might like to change before breakfast.” The housekeeper placed the dress beside her.
“That’s nice. Thanks.” Nellie saw the gown had been tailored to fit her, and looked up at Rosealise. “If you need me to do some mending while I’m in here… I mean, I think I can sew pretty well.” It would also help pass the time until they decided what they were going to do with her.
“I’m told that the chieftain has other plans for you today.” Rosealise hesitated before she said, “I don’t believe in holding grudges, Miss Quinn. You need not worry that I will treat you any differently than I have in the past.”
“What about Edane?” Nellie grimaced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t keep asking about him.”
“Perhaps you should give him some time to sort out his feelings,” the housekeeper suggested before she stepped out.
Once Nellie had dressed Rosealise walked with her into the great hall, where everyone but Kiaran and Edane sat gathered around the trestle table. No one said anything as she joined them, but Jenna smiled at her. Domnall then spoke with Mael about permanently sealing off the fire trap passage at both ends, which Jenna proposed doing with grates until they determined what triggered the flames and how they could disarm it.
“I’d have you work with Broden on tending the livestock today, Mistress Quinn,” Domnall said, startling her. “Or you may remain at your leisure in the pantry. I shallnae force you to work.”
Nellie liked the trapper, and being locked up all day had little appeal. “Sure, I’ll help.”
After they finished the morning meal Broden escorted Nellie out to the barn, where a half-dozen cows stood waiting in their stanchions. From the look of their swollen udders they needed milking, so after he handed her a long apron to wear, she rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands at the basin stand.
“We’ll see to the cows, and then weed the herb garden for Rosealise.” The trapper took down a bucket and three-legged stool from a shelf and went to the first stall, where he patted the heifer’s shoulder. “Come and I’ll show you how to milk her.”
“I think I’ve got this.” Nellie positioned the stool by the cow before tucking the bucket between her shins and stroking the animal’s side. It felt like the right way, and she watched the legs before she took the wet, soapy rag Broden handed her. Using i
t to clean the udder and teats seemed simple enough, as did drying them with the bottom of her apron. “Say, you got some balm?”
The words were out of her before she’d even realized she’d asked. Though Broden’s brows arched, he nodded and produced a little stone jar that he gave to her. For a moment she stared at it.
How did I know to ask for it? In fact, how do I know anything about–
Her temple twinged, making her wince.
Never mind. Don’t try to remember. Just do what comes naturally.
Nellie rubbed some of the salve on her palms and sat down. When she realized she couldn’t reach the udder she scooted up so close she had to turn her head. As she rested her cheek against the cow she felt for the swollen teats.
“Good girl,” she murmured as she began tugging and squeezing, finding the right grip to use. Heavy streams of milk soon hissed against the side of the pail. “You’re just full of it today, aren’t you?”
The trapper watched her for a while before he retrieved another stool and went to the next stall.
Nellie breathed in the scent of warm milk, which sweetened the straw-musty air, and then detected a slight sour note. “Brodie, you boys raking up the dirt after you muck out the stalls in here?”
Broden glanced over his shoulder. “Why? ’Tis dirt.”
“It’s dirt you’ve been soaking with a lot of spilled milk,” she corrected. “With the summer coming pretty soon it’s going to reek in here. Also, you should keep one hand on your bucket in case the cow moves or kicks. That stops most of the splashes and spills.”
The trapper just grunted and went back to milking.
Once they finished with all the cows and carried the pails into the buttery, Nellie strained hers through a sack into a clean basin and covered it.
“That spotted heifer looks like they barned her too long,” she mentioned as they walked back outside. “She’s got hard feet. You’ll need to cut down her hooves and watch them for cracks.”
Turning out the docile cows to graze proved easy, as they ambled out of the barn’s open pasture doors as soon as Nellie and Broden released them. She went along to take a better look at the herd, which looked well-fed and healthy, and noted the number of calves. The bull standing toward the outside of the herd swung his head around to inspect them before returning his attention to the lush grass.
“Where are you watering them, down at the stream?” she asked, and Broden nodded. “That’s fine for now, but you’re going to need to build some troughs for when it freezes in winter.”
The trapper eyed her. “How many?”
She glanced at the herd as she calculated. “If you size them for three, and build one for every fifty head… Five deep troughs should be plenty. But you’ll need to separate the herd. Once the calves get bigger, you have to pen the bulls away from each other and the heifers until it’s time to breed them.”
It seemed obvious to her but the look on Broden’s face said it was anything but. Again she resisted the urge to remember how she knew.
He gestured for her to follow him back into the barn, where he closed the doors and bolted them. Nellie watched as he poured some fresh water into a basin.
Why did he lock the doors? Washing up beside him, Nellie tried to shrug off the sense of being trapped. Then she caught the way he was looking at her. Oh, he’s got plans for me.
“You ken much of cattle,” Broden mentioned as he held out a clean swatch of linen. When she tried to take it, he caught her hands in it, and held them. “Too much for a lass who dwelled in town.”
“Yeah, I guess. Can’t remember.” She also suspected that the chieftain hadn’t told him to do this. Still, Broden didn’t look like he wanted to beat the tar out of her, so it had to be something else. “You got a problem with that?”
“Jenna told us of your New York City,” the trapper said as he began gently drying her hands. “’Tis filled with many strange and wondrous things, but no’ cattle or dairy farms.”
“Maybe I lived in the country.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go of her. “Something else you wanted?”
“Aye.” He dropped the linen and stroked his thumbs along the insides of her wrists. The touch felt light but definitely more than friendly. “You’re a worldly lass. I’ve no’ taken a lover since here we came. We neither of us wish entanglements.”
This she’d almost been expecting, and still she felt disappointed. “So you know all about me now, huh?”
“I’d ken more.” He leaned close, grazing her cheek with his as he put his mouth next to her ear. “Come up into the loft,” he murmured, his rasping voice like a rough caress. “We’ve hours before anyone misses us.”
Nellie sighed. With the charm Broden was pouring on it would be easy to give in. He had that look of a guy who could make a girl’s toes curl, and she bet she knew plenty of ways to twist his. He’d definitely take her mind off her troubles, and he was right. Who would know? But all she could think of was Edane, and the wounded look in his eyes when Rosealise had forced the truth out of her.
“I’d be loony not to, huh?” She gave his hands a fond squeeze before she stepped back. “Can’t do that to Danny, pal. Sorry.”
“You believe the archer shall forgive you for deceiving us?” Broden sounded skeptical now. “You dinnae ken my brother.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a liar and Edane hates me. I got that last night.” She rubbed the ink on the back of her neck, which felt uncomfortably hot for a moment. “Doesn’t change how I feel.”
“You’ve feelings.” He chuckled as if she’d made a joke. “Aye, and you’d have run from Dun Chaill without a word of warning to him or any of us about what you reckoned would end the clan. ’Tis touching, how greatly you care.”
So that was what they thought of her. Fair enough. Only it made her angry, so angry she thought she might slap his fine face. Then the truth just poured out of her.
“You ever been so scared you can’t remember to breathe?” Nellie nodded as his smirk faded. “Sweat running down your back, hands shaking, head full of screaming that nobody but you can hear? You can’t hear anything else. Everything crowds in on you. You’d peel your own skin off to get away. That’s what I felt from the minute I walked in this joint and saw that thing that built it. I didn’t know any of you, see? You could have been in on it.”
Broden nodded. “Truth.”
He’d been through something just as bad. Nellie could see it now in his pretty eyes. Someone had done a number on the trapper, and she’d bet he sometimes still heard the screaming, just like she did.
“We’re a lot alike, you and me. We do what we have to so we can get by.” She saw him flinch. “Hey, that doesn’t make us heartless.”
“No?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“Trust me, I got one in here somewhere.” She poked a finger at her chest. “Might be the size of a peanut, and frozen stiff, but it still works. Maybe yours does, too, because I think you wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t care. You’d have just taken what you wanted, right?”
“As you say.” Broden touched her face, and when he took his fingers away, they looked wet. “Forgive me, my lady.” He bowed to her like she was some bigshot.
Nellie laughed at him. “Come on, let’s get at the garden.”
Chapter Eighteen
ONCE BRODEN AND Nellie left the stock barn Edane jumped down from where he’d watched them. His brother had warned him that the lass might accept his lure of seduction, and he’d been prepared for that. Instead she’d shown herself as someone entirely different: an honorable female who cared more for him than the prospect of pleasure and comfort that Broden had offered her.
Likely ’twas all deception.
Nellie might have realized he was hidden there, and sought to mislead him again. Or she had been ingratiating herself with the trapper, in hopes of gaining some sway over him.
Edane left through the pasture door, and found Kiaran standing outside. Above him Dive perched on one
of the barn windows, making it obvious why he had come.
“Broden told you what he meant to do?”
“No.” The falconer held up his gauntlet, and the kestrel flew down to perch on it. He stroked Dive’s small head as he looked over toward the kitchen garden. “I but wondered if she’d attempt to flee again once outside the keepe. Instead she plays dairy maid as if born to milk. I marvel at the scope of her skills.”
“As you saw, Nellie didnae run.” The last thing he wanted was to clash with Kiaran, especially after he had been proven right in his suspicions. “Mayhap you should attend to your forge now, Brother.”
The falconers dark eyes narrowed. “Dinnae trifle with the wench, Edane. She’s no’ worthy of you.”
Was he such a prize, then? Edane wondered as he watched the falconer stride off. In the vision he had shared with Nellie, the oversize demon had spoken of him as worthless for all but facking and slaughter. Since becoming immortal he had attained the strength and vigor enjoyed by the other Mag Raith, but he never forgot how he’d felt the first time they’d come to Dun Chaill.
For which I damned us all.
His palm throbbed, and Edane glanced down to see his own hand flattened against his chest, as he’d often done before their last hunt. Beneath the flesh and bone his heart pumped with slow, even beats, powerful and sure, and seemingly never to stop.
As it had never beat in his mortal life.
In boyhood the strange fluttering in his chest when he ran more than a few steps had often caused Edane to lose his breath. By comparison he knew himself to be different from the other lads, but never spoke of the spells to anyone. Still, his parents had seen his weakness. His sire refused to train him as a warrior, and his máthair forbid him do all but the lightest of women’s work. As Edane grew older his resentment over their coddling swelled, especially when they had given him to the tribe’s shaman for training.