Highlander's Promise

by Donna Fletcher

  Dawn shrugged and motioned as if placing a crown on her head.

  “I am not sure what the King will do when he learns of this. It is important that he finds out if Minnoch is loyal to him and with how untrustworthy Minnoch is there is no telling what his explanation will be to the King.”

  Dawn thought a moment before her hands began moving again.

  “I agree. You would think that the King would not trust Minnoch after he imprisoned and was about to behead the emissary he sent to speak with him. But his need for Minnoch may outweigh good judgement.”

  Her brow narrowed and she tapped his chest.

  The king will not dare hand me over to Minnoch, for if he proves disloyal to the King, it will be me the King sends to deal with him.”

  Dawn chopped at the side of her neck with her hand.

  “I should behead Minnoch?”

  She nodded firmly.

  “We will see, though whatever happens, I intend to see the bastard pay for what he did.”

  ~~~

  Dawn was exhausted when hours later they stopped for a brief rest. She could not imagine what toll the last few days and now this hasty ride home had on Old Mary, though one look at the old woman napping beneath a tree told Dawn all she needed to know.

  The warriors got busy seeing that the horses drank from the stream and food was hastily dispersed and eaten.

  Dawn nibbled on a piece of dried meat in between washing her face in the stream. She could not wait to get home and wash the filth off her, though that filth was part of what had helped her rescue her husband. But the mission was done and it was time to rid herself of the foul odor.

  Cree stood a distance away from her, watching. He hoped the wound on her neck would heal so that no scar would be left. If a scar remained, it would always remind him of that moment he saw her through the narrow slot, standing there naked, the fresh wound at her throat, and once again he felt anger twist at his gut.

  “You owe her your life.”

  Cree turned to see Sloan standing next to him.

  “Your wife saved you.”

  Cree scowled at Sloan. “We had a plan.”

  “It did not include a quick beheading.”

  “She paid too high of a price.”

  “I guess that shows just how much she loves you.”

  “She disobeyed me.”

  Sloan laughed. “She never obeys you.”

  “And look what happened because of it.”

  “Yes, look what happened. You live.”

  Cree walked off, not wanting to hear anymore and his steps took him to his wife. He was only a few feet away when the pounding of hooves was heard. Cree rushed to his wife as he drew his sword and once he reached her, he shoved her behind him.

  Warriors relaxed the hold on their weapons when one of their own appeared.

  The rider rode over to Cree as soon as he spotted him. “They know of your escape. Minnoch gathers his troops to come after you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dawn’s legs gave way when Cree lifted her off his horse. He scooped her up and carried her up the steps of the keep and into the Great Hall. “Flanna!” he yelled and the woman appeared as if out of thin air. “Dawn requires a bath, food, and rest, but first get Elsa.”

  “I will see to everything, my lord,” Flanna said with a bob of her head.

  Cree looked to Kirk McClusky as he rushed across the room to him.

  “Did I hear you say Elsa?” Kirk asked concerned for his daughter. “My daughter requires the healer?” His eyes turned wide when he saw the blood-stained bandage around her neck. “What happened?”

  Dawn wanted to answer her father, but she was simply too tired to move her arms.

  “She is fine. Let me get her settled, and then we will talk. Until then, go find Sloan, he will tell you what needs to be done.” Cree said and Kirk hesitated. “As soon as she is settled, you can speak with her yourself.” That seemed to mollify Kirk and with a nod he hurried off.

  Cree walked over to the steps and took them up to their bedchamber slowly. His body ached from the endless ride. It was a five day journey to reach home and they had made it just shy of three days. Here at least, he could more easily protect his wife, his children, and his clan.

  He entered his bedchamber and at that moment felt he had truly come home, the large bed he shared so happily with his wife, greeting him with freshly dressed linens.

  Dawn stirred in his arms and winced when she moved.

  “You are home and safe,” he said and kissed her brow.

  She opened her eyes and looked around, wanting to make sure this was real and not a dream. She smiled happy that it was not a dream, they truly were finally home. She would sleep in her bed tonight in her husband’s arms instead of on a horse in his arms.

  “Elsa will be here shortly,” he said, lowering her to her feet, though keeping a strong arm around her waist.

  Dawn nodded, holding onto his arm, her legs not yet firm beneath her, thanks to the endless hours on the horse.

  Elsa entered with a basket on her arm, Cree having left the door open.

  Dawn could tell that he was relieved to see the woman, not that anyone else would notice. He let no one see what he felt, but she had learned to spot the small signs, a tiny crinkle at the corner of his eyes, a slight flare of his nostrils, a sudden tightness to his lips. They all told her something. At the moment, it was the slightest flare of his dark eyes. He was impatient to hear what Elsa had to say.

  “It is good that you all have returned safely,” Elsa said as she approached Dawn. Her nose wrinkled when she got closer.

  Dawn was quick to apologize for her unpleasant odor.

  “That matters not,” Cree barked. “See to her wound.”

  Dawn did not bother to scold her husband for being so sharp with Elsa. The healer understood him better than most and dealt with him better than most.

  “Help her to sit,” Elsa said to Cree. “She looks ready to collapse.”

  “She nearly did when I took her off the horse.” Cree got her to the chair and eased her down on it, then stepped away once Elsa stood beside his wife.

  Elsa gently removed the bandage from her neck.

  Dawn saw anger spark in her husband’s dark eyes when the wound was revealed.

  “I need to clean this, and then I will apply an herb mixture to the areas that are not healing as they should,” Elsa explained.

  “Why are they not healing as they should?” Cree demanded.

  “The cut is deeper in some places and if not properly tended will not heal. But it will, beginning now.”

  “Flanna walked in with a bucket of fresh water and towels that she arranged on a chest she pulled next to Elsa.

  He wondered how Flanna always seemed to know what people needed before being asked. She was an asset to the keep and a good friend to Dawn.

  Elsa turned to Cree after Flanna left. “Dawn is in good hands. Go do what you must.”

  Cree walked over to his wife and kissed her brow. “I will join you later.”

  Dawn smiled and gestured that he better or she would come find him.

  He was glad to see she had not lost her strong spirit after all she had been through. He drew an X with his finger over his chest, promising her before turning to Elsa and asking the question that had haunted him since seeing his wife’s wound. “Will it scar?”

  “I do not know. Only time will tell.”

  Cree left without saying another word and Dawn’s smile faded, knowing her husband was upset.

  Dawn gestured slowly to Elsa.

  “I believe you are right. Your self-inflicted wound is nothing to your husband’s self-inflicted suffering. And the only cure for both is time.”

  Elsa was right about her wound. Time would tell if any reminder remained of it, but Cree’s wound went much deeper. Only revenge would heal the fact that he had been unable to stop his wife from being stripped naked in front of him and that frightened Dawn.

  ~~~

/>   Cree found Sloan outside, busy fortifying Dowell. He had no fear his warriors would have trouble protecting their home. They had fought many years for the benefit of others and now they fought for their families and own home. The villagers had also been taught to fight when necessary and being life had improved considerably since Cree had laid claim to Dowell, all were willing to fight for him.

  “All is ready?” Cree asked, approaching Sloan.

  “Aye,” he answered firmly. “McClusky is moving his men to our southern border in case Minnoch circles around and attempts to attack from there.” Sloan was quick to add, “How is Dawn?”

  “Well enough,” Cree said.

  Sloan let a moment of silence pass between them. “You are going to kill Minnoch.” It was not a question. Sloan was confirming what he knew to be true.

  “With much pleasure,” Cree said. “Is there any word on how long before he arrives here?”

  “We have no word on that yet.”

  “Let me know as soon as you do,” Cree said and followed a path through the village.

  Night was not far off, dusk now laying claim to the land. Torches began to flicker in the cool air as his warriors went about securing the village.

  Cree turned up a path to a small cottage and before he could knock on the door a voice called out, “Enter.” He smiled as he opened the door and walked in. Old Mary was sitting up in bed, her wrinkled skin appearing younger from a recent washing, and a mug was cupped in her hand, heat rising from it.

  “You are well?” he asked and took a chair from the small table and placed it next to the bed to sit.

  “I am, and I have waited for you,” she said with a nod.

  “You knew I would come here tonight. Did you know Dawn would survive the rescue attempt? Is that why you agreed to join her?”

  “As I told your wife, fate is a funny creature. Sometimes she will show you things and sometimes she shows you nothing. I think those times fate remains silent, she feels the decision should be ours alone. And Dawn did not want me going with her. It was I who insisted on accompanying her.”

  “Whose thought was it to cut her throat?”

  “We discussed different options, but none proved as safe as having the actual wound to verify our story true. No one would suspect that someone would slice their own throat. But then no one realizes how much Dawn loves you.” After a yawn, she said, “Tell me my punishment so that I may get some much needed sleep.”

  “I cannot punish you for helping my stubborn wife, for keeping her safe, and for freeing us both. I am most grateful.”

  “And I am most grateful that Dawn has found a man who loves her with all his heart.”

  “And I always will.”

  Old Mary slipped her one hand off the mug and held it out to Cree.

  He took it.

  “This is different from what you think. Be careful for Minnoch will not stop until he has his revenge.”

  Cree left the cottage with Old Mary’s warning playing over and over in his head, but still it made no sense to him or perhaps his thoughts were not as clear as they should be, not having slept for over two days. There were a few more things he needed to do, and then he would join his wife in bed.

  He swore beneath his breath. Simply thinking about crawling into bed with her aroused him and she was too exhausted for him to even be thinking of making love to her. He smiled, knowing his wife, her hands would be all over him once they were in bed, possibly even before it. Good God, he was a lucky man and he hurried to finish his tasks, the last one being a good washing, then he would go see the twins, for he would not go to them filthy and smelly. Finally, he would go be alone with his wife.

  ~~~

  Dawn sat with each babe in her arms, both sleeping contently after feeding from their mum’s breasts once again. Though they had no voice to recognize her by, somehow they knew when she entered a room. They cried out and Valan looked as if he would jump out of the cradle to get to her. He was so much like his father. Lizbeth waved her tiny arms, smiled, and made sounds until Dawn scooped her up. She did not know how they knew it was her, but they did and that pleased her.

  She cuddled them close and kissed the tops of their heads repeatedly, relieved to be home with them safe in her arms. She had spoken briefly with her da, assuring him she was unharmed and thanking him over and over for being here and protecting the twins. With tears in his eyes, he had told her that he would do whatever it took to keep her and his grandchildren safe. Then he had gone on to brag profusely about the twins. She smiled, happy to have found her da after all this time.

  The door creaked open and she smiled when she saw her husband enter quietly. She could smell his freshly washed body from where she sat and she suddenly craved him, fearing it would take more than one night to appease her need for him.

  Cree walked softly over to his wife, not wanting to wake the babies, but eager to see his son and daughter again. He hunched down in front of his wife, enjoying the scent of lavender that wafted off her.

  He sniffed the air and smiled at her, letting her know how much he favored her scent.

  She nodded at him and sniffed the air as well, her smile growing wider, though a yawn was quick to steal it away.

  Cree pointed to Valan, and then the cradle. Dawn nodded, handing their son gently over to him. Cree pressed his son close to him and ran a tender hand over his tiny head. His face squished up as if annoyed at being disturbed and Cree grinned, happy to be home, holding him tucked in his arm. After running his finger along his son’s soft cheek, he placed him in the cradle. It would not be long before the lad would be looking for his sister to snuggle against.

  Cree turned and Dawn lifted their daughter up to him. As soon as he took her in his arms, Lizbeth opened her eyes and smiled so wide it appeared as if she was attempting to speak to him.

  “Hello there, my little princess,” he said softly. “Da has come home to you.”

  Her smile brightened, and then she turned her tiny head and pressed her face against his chest and in the next moment she was asleep. He held her close, not wanting to let go of her just yet. He lifted her so that he could press his cheek against her warm, soft one and whispered, “I love you with all my heart, princess, and I will always protect you.”

  Dawn did not think she could love her husband any more than she already did, but seeing him, the mighty warrior Cree, with such love in his eyes for his son and daughter had Dawn loving him even more.

  Valan was already thrashing about when Cree placed his daughter next to his son. As soon as the small lad felt his sister there, Valan settled beside her. Cree placed a blanket over them and turned to his wife, stretching his hand out to her. “Time for bed.”

  Dawn took hold of his hand, eager for bed, though not for sleep.

  The short walk to their bedchamber seemed to take forever to Dawn and once inside she found herself doing something she had not expected, frowning. Why did her husband walk away from her to stand by the hearth, turning his back to her? She expected him to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. And why was he waiting to disrobe? They had been too long without each other and she was most eager for him to bury himself deep inside her.

  She walked over to where he stood, his hand braced against the mantel and scooted under it, to stand in front of him with a wrinkled brow.

  He hooked his arm around her waist and turned her away from the hearth. “Your nightdress will catch the flame.”

  Dawn was quick to remedy the matter. She striped off her nightdress and stood naked in front of him, except for the bandage at her neck. And that was where his eyes rested.

  “Does it pain you?” Cree asked with a hint of anger.

  She shook her head, smiling.

  “You smile when you could very well be left with a scar that will be a constant reminder of—”

  She gestured quickly.

  “You think it was a small price to pay to free me?”

  Dawn nodded, her smile remaining strong.
>
  “Slicing your throat is a small price?” he argued.

  She gestured again.

  Cree could not stop the laugh that surfaced. “I should be glad that you did not lose your voice?”

  Dawn nodded, the corners of her mouth crinkling from inner laughter.

  His laughter left a smile and Cree shook his head as he said, “What am I going to do with you, wife?”

  Her gestures were slow and precise, leaving no doubt to what she was saying. Dawn felt her bare feet leave the floor so quickly that a gasp caught in her throat as she landed snugly in her husband’s arms, tucked against his chest.

  Now I am going to show you how much I missed you.”

  After lowering his wife to the bed, Cree discarded his garments with haste and rested himself over her, though only for a moment. His arm circled her waist and as he rolled to his side, he took her with him, bringing her to rest against him.

  Her lips found his as soon as their faces neared and she captured his with a hunger he returned. They had been separated too long, their need now too great to do anything but satisfy it. He had never been as famished for a woman as he was for his wife at this moment. The more he kissed her, the more ravenous he grew, the more demanding his kiss. He warned himself to slow down, be gentler with her, but how does a starving man feast slowly? How does a man who thought he might never kiss his wife again, make love to her again, wake beside her in bed ever again, temper his love for her when he finally joins with her again?

  This would be no slow, easy joining, at least not the first one.

  He rolled her on her back with the weight of his body.

  “I cannot wait,” he whispered.

  Dawn nodded, patted her chest frantically, and spread her legs.

  Chapter Eight

  Cree silently cursed himself for lack of control especially when he slipped inside his wife and felt himself ready to come. He wanted to take his time, make her come more than once, before he did, and yet, his body betrayed him, demanding immediate release.