His Highland Heart

by Willa Blair

  Nonetheless, she bathed quickly, dried off and made use of what Mhairi had given her for her bleeding. Then she pulled on her shift and slipped the damp dress over her head. Shivering from reaction, Muireall sank onto the stool by the fire to let her clothes dry. She hated that a stranger now knew she bore permanent scars from what had happened to her.

  The healer surprised her by picking up a comb and running it through her hair. The scratch of the teeth along her scalp felt wonderful. And Mhairi’s gentle ministration lulled her. Eventually, she succumbed, moved back to her cot and slept. She roused some time later to the low rumble of Euan’s voice and the higher pitch of a woman’s. A pretty blonde lass held Euan’s arm. Muireall’s sinking heart stirred her enough to note the bandages on his hands were new and clean. The healer must have found him, after all. But who was the lass? And who was she to Euan?

  Both he and the lass left Mhairi’s cot before Muireall could sit up and ask. The healer bustled in.

  “Ah, ye are awake. Good.”

  While Muireall sat and scrubbed her face with her hands, Mhairi woke Calum. A glance at the window told Muireall it was past midday.

  “’Twill be time for a meal soon,” she heard the healer cajole Calum. “I ken ye are hungry.”

  A meal meant meeting more of the clan. And seeing Euan with that lass? Was she important to him? Or worse, his wife? She thought back over the way Euan had treated her. In the light of her new circumstances, she realized he’d been caring, concerned, but never forward, even when she’d fallen against the cave wall and woken up to his kisses on her face. He’d promised he’d never hurt her, and he hadn’t, not deliberately. He’d never said he had a lass at home, but she’d never asked. She’d been falling for him and simply assumed.

  But her father had other plans for her future.

  If her father still lived, she would never be Euan’s. She suddenly needed to get outside in fresh air. With a nod to Mhairi, Muireall stood and stepped out of the cot into the afternoon sunshine. But from the healer’s doorway, she had no idea where to go or what to do.

  Chapter 8

  Euan paused while Annie started up the hill to the keep. He wasn’t ready to go that way yet. A glance in the other direction gave him the firth in all its deep blue beauty, sunshine gleaming on the surface. Without thinking, he turned and started down the path toward it. Dolphins leapt in graceful arcs as he neared the beach, but he barely noticed them. His hands hurt and his mood was better suited to storm clouds and rough seas. He could understand where Iain was coming from, he could, though he didn’t like his chief denying him what he most wanted to do. Annie had done her best while she and the healer tended his hands to smooth his ruffled feathers, but damn it, the missing men were his responsibility. Yet here he stood, staring across the wide blue water, unable to do a bloody thing to help them. To find them. Or to bury them, if that would be required. He clenched his fists and groaned as the bandaging pulled at his abraded skin. Then he set off, pacing down the beach, balancing on the uneven footing of sand and pebbles. Brodie boats lined the shore, pulled above the high tide line. Just below that watermark, the skiff he’d stolen from Ross waited for someone to sail it away and hide it. Or sink it. What if he took it?

  He slowed as he reached it and paced around it. Could he pull it into the water without help? More important, could he sail it by himself? He glanced up at the sky. Clear and blue. As lovely a day as could be found on the shores of the Moray firth. And about as far from the weather that had sunk the Tangie as weather could be. The surface of the firth was calm, even flat, looking more like a lake than a broad body of water open to the northern sea.

  He could do this. If he could get her in the water, that is.

  He reached for the stern.

  “Ho, Euan!”

  Euan lowered his hands and turned to face the man who’d called out to him. Kenneth, damn it. Iain’s right hand. Annie must have sent him, or Iain had. “Kenneth.” Euan contented himself with the man’s name, nothing more. If Kenneth had any idea what he’d been about to do, Euan would not admit it. And if he didn’t, Euan would not enlighten him.

  “Iain told me to hide the Ross skiff,” Kenneth announced with a grin. “She’s been sitting here too long already.”

  So he did know.

  “I could use some help.”

  Euan held up his bandaged hands.

  “Ye sailed her here, did ye no’? I think ye can crew with me well enough.”

  Euan narrowed his eyes. “And ye are certain there’s no one else to do that for ye?”

  “No’ at the moment. And since ye are here…” Kenneth answered with a shrug and pushed the skiff toward the water. “We need to get this beast out of sight.”

  Euan lent his shoulder and between them, she was quickly afloat. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Ye ken the caves I have in mind. North…”

  “Toward Inverness, aye. And how do ye plan to get back?”

  “We’ll no’ swim all the way, if that’s what concerns ye. Angus is bringing horses to meet us. We’ll be back before the evening meal.”

  The afternoon was as perfect for a sail as Euan had imagined. When he left Mhairi’s care with Annie, Muireall was sleeping and didn’t need him. As pinched as she’d looked, he expected she’d sleep for hours yet. He nodded.

  They made good time, and saw no other boats they recognized as belonging to Ross. None approached them and by the time they took down the sail and rowed for shore and the cave Kenneth chose, there were no other boats near enough to see them.

  They rowed into a cave they knew well. The back took a sharp turn, which meant they could tie off the skiff where it could not be seen from the outside. That done, they dropped over the side into the water.

  At first, Euan’s hands stung, but the cold water soon numbed them. Or perhaps given how often he’d gotten sand and salt in his wounds he was getting used to the sensation. Either way, his hands were the least of his troubles. As he swam toward the cave’s entrance, he became aware the water in the cave was not still. It ebbed and flowed, tugging at him and reminding him of the surf the night of the Tangie’s shipwreck. All too quickly, he lost himself in the memory of the salt water in his nose and mouth. Before he could stop himself, he started thrashing, fighting a surf that didn’t exist.

  Finally, he managed to break the spell and resume swimming smoothly without Kenneth, who was well ahead of him, becoming aware he’d been in trouble for a moment.

  They swam out along the cliffside without incident to the rough trail leading from the waterline to the top. Euan pulled himself up onto a rocky shelf and sat, fighting to control his galloping heartbeat. The sound of gentle swells slapping against the cliff face brought back the storm and how the water had sloshed over the Tangie’s side as he shouted for his men to let go of the ropes and get away from her. Euan pushed his hair out of his face and took a deep breath, glad to be out of the water and back on solid rock.

  Kenneth stood and offered a hand.

  Euan reached up, grateful Kenneth grabbed his forearm instead of his bandaged hand, to pull him to his feet.

  They climbed.

  Atop the cliff, the view stretched nearly to Inverness in one direction and to Brodie in the other. They started walking back, the wind making quick work of drying their clothes, but not before chilling them even more than the water had.

  Kenneth shuddered. “Where the hell is Angus with those horses? I’ll be glad to get home and finish drying out before a fire.”

  Euan nodded and managed to answer, “Aye, before a fire would be brilliant,” without letting Kenneth hear his teeth chatter.

  Before much longer, they heard horses approaching. Angus appeared over the next rise, leading two mounts by their reins.

  “So whose idea was this?” Euan accused.

  “Annie’s. When she saw the way ye headed, she wondered if ye would willingly swim again. That lass is wiser than her years.”

  Euan grunted agreement. “She
decided I needed to get back in the water?”

  “Or ye might never wish to, aye. I told ye, the lass is…”

  “Wiser than her years,” Euan chorused. Shite. If he’d really panicked during the trip, would Kenneth have thought to let him off where they climbed the cliff before rowing inside the cave?

  “Are ye lads dry yet?” Angus greeted them.

  “Aye, and ready to stop walking, thank ye,” Kenneth answered.

  Euan swung wearily onto the back of his mount, turned it homeward, and let it have its head. Suddenly, exhaustion took him, every reserve of energy he’d ever possessed expended. He wasn’t used to being the beneficiary of such care and concern from Kenneth and even from Annie. He didn’t deserve it. Nor did he know what to do about it, so he pushed his feelings aside and just rode.

  The horses kept pace with each other and made good time. Much to Euan’s relief, as Kenneth had promised, they were back before the evening meal.

  When they reached the stable, Euan dismounted and gave his horse to a lad to care for it. Kenneth dismounted and touched Euan’s shoulder. “Annie may have sent me after ye, but I am grateful for yer help and yer company, nonetheless.”

  “Thank ye,” Euan replied. “I’m for a fire and a wee dram. Will ye come?”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve yet heard today. Angus! Are ye with us?”

  “Nay, damn it. I’ve got to see these lads take proper care of the horses.”

  Kenneth shook his head and gestured for Euan to precede him.

  By the time Muireall left Mhairi to deal with Calum, Euan had disappeared. Muireall couldn’t help wondering where he was. She was tempted to walk up to the keep in hopes of finding him, but Muireall didn’t want to see him if he still accompanied the blonde lass. If she was something special to him, Muireall would not be able to bear it. She was too shaken by what she’d already been through to find out Euan had a mistress or a betrothed or a wife. Not yet.

  Instead, she turned downhill, through the village. She’d had no real destination in mind. Just a hunger for fresh air and sunshine. And to give Calum some privacy.

  Childish shouts and laughter drew her on. Children chased each other down the path toward the beach. Some—lads and lasses—wielded wooden swords, or child-sized bows, blunted arrows clutched in the opposite fist. She couldn’t imagine such taking place at Munro. Lads were taught to fight and to use weapons, not lasses. Would the lasses eventually be called upon to help defend the keep here, firing arrows down on a siege force, or invaders?

  How would she feel about doing that, had she been trained in archery?

  She’d seen battles, and the aftermath of battles. She’d tended wounded warriors and helped prepare the dead for burial. But she’d never thought to be part of the fighting force herself. The idea frightened her, yet at the same time, excited her. To be able to hunt for food, and to defend herself, her clan and her keep—how powerful would she feel? Would she have been able to prevent the Ross men from stealing her, Ella and Tira from Munro land? She shook her head. Fruitless speculation. She could do none of those things, and likely never would. And a bow and arrow would not have stopped the Rosses. But, oh, if she could have!

  She watched for a few more minutes, then something else caught her attention.

  Cats. Several of them. Sleeping in the sun, wandering from one cottage to another, trotting after the children toward the beach. No mouse would dare approach this village. She nearly laughed out loud at the thought, when she felt a tug on her skirt.

  A young lass stood there, holding a kitten. “Could ye help me?” the lass asked, holding up the kitten. “I’ve lost her sister. She looks just the same. And she’s too young to be out in the cold once the sun goes down.”

  Muireall smiled and stroked the kitten’s head. “She’s a beauty. Another just like her, ye say?” She looked around and spotted another kitten sleeping in a sunny spot on top of some rocks marking the boundary of a fallow garden.

  “Is that her?” She pointed, but when the lass nodded and took a step in that direction, Muireall stopped her. “I’ll fetch her. She’s too far into the rocks for ye to venture near.”

  In a moment, she returned with the kitten, now awake and complaining about having her nap disturbed.

  “Thank ye, Lady,” the little lass told her. “Would ye like to see the rest of them? They’re in the byre.”

  “I would.”

  The lass led her to a small byre next to a cottage, where the mother cat lounged and three other kittens nursed. Muireall set her kitten down and it immediately found a spot and joined its siblings at their meal. The little lass did the same with hers, then stood back with a satisfied smile.

  “What’s yer name?” Muireall asked.

  “I’m Janie, and those are mine.”

  “All of them?”

  “Aye. I take care of them. Except that one,” she said and pointed to the one Muireall had retrieved, “keeps sneaking away.”

  “She likes the sunshine, I suppose.”

  “I dinna want one of the hounds to eat her.” Her lower lip puckered at the thought.

  “I dinna think they will, but ye had best keep her with the others, just the same.”

  “Janie, is that ye?” A lad’s voice from outside interrupted them.

  “Aye,” Janie answered. She frowned and her shoulders slumped.

  Muireall could guess what the lad was going to say before he said it.

  “Yer ma is looking for ye. ’Tis nearly time for supper.”

  Janie looked up at Muireall. “I have to go.”

  “I do, too. Thank ye for showing me your kittens.”

  “Ye can visit them whenever ye like. And if ye see that one outside,” she continued, pointing at the escape artist, “please bring her back.”

  “I’ll do that. Now, go on. Ye’d best find yer mother.”

  Janie nodded and ran off.

  Muireall smiled at the mother cat and her hungry kittens, then stepped outside. The view out over the firth was stunning and drew her gaze. A boat bobbed just offshore, two men raising the sail. Euan! She started running, calling his name. Why was he sailing away? If he could sail, he could take her home, couldn’t he? Before she’d gone very far, she realized running after him was foolish. The boat was too far away. He’d never hear her. She slowed, angry that while playing with kittens, she might have missed a chance to go home.

  She continued down the path to the beach and settled on the sand with her back against a rock to watch the sun set. The rock was warm, the breeze cool, and before long, Muireall found herself nodding. Visions of playful kittens and snuggling kittens filled her mind. She roused after the sun dipped behind the hills on the firth’s opposite shore. The rock was still warm at her back, but her front was chilled. She pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her and stood. She should return to the keep and find out about supper.

  “Muireall! There ye are!” Euan ran to her. “Everyone is searching for you! The healer said ye left her care hours ago and no one has seen ye since.”

  “I…I’m sorry. I dozed off. Where did ye go? I saw ye sailing away.”

  “Hiding the Ross’s skiff.” He took her hand. “Let’s get ye back. Were ye here the whole time?”

  “Nay,” she answered as they started back up the hill. “I wandered about the village. Oh, and visited a cat and her kittens with a lass named Janie.”

  Euan nodded. “I ken the lass. One of the cats had an early litter.”

  “She was quite serious about their care.”

  “More than I have been about yers.” He stopped them outside the healer’s cottage. “I am sorry about leaving ye alone this afternoon, but Kenneth needed my help. And I’m sorry, too, that I must leave ye with the healer while I tell the others ye are found. I’ll see ye soon at supper.”

  He left her before Muireall could frame an answer. She leaned back against the healer’s door and watched him hurry up the path to the keep, thinking about his last statement. He thought hi
mself in charge of her care. Was that all? She had begun to hope for more, but then she recalled the blonde lass who’d been clutching his arm. Perhaps it was already too late.

  Chapter 9

  It was time to meet the rest of the clan.

  When Muireall and Calum entered the keep’s hall for the evening meal, her heart leapt into her throat. Euan! He stood, talking to some other men, and frowning. In the short time since he’d left her, he’d cleaned up and no longer looked as rough as when he’d found her on the beach. Granted, over the last few days, he’d been shipwrecked, starved, and attacked. Now, somehow, his face had lost the drawn look of exhaustion from the exposure he’d suffered.

  He glanced up and saw her. His frown smoothed away and transformed into a welcoming smile. But he held up a newly bandaged hand to stave her off and went back to the discussion he was having.

  She wondered what was so important. Were the searchers back? Was there news?

  And where was the lass she’d seen with him earlier?

  Calum had noted the unspoken exchange and said, “I see he’s busy. Let’s find a seat and he can join us when he’s free, aye? From the look of that group, he could be there for a while, and I’d rather spend that time sitting than standing. Would ye, as well?”

  “I would.” Muireall followed Calum to an empty bench. In moments someone brought trenchers of food and ale. Calum wasted no time digging in, but Muireall kept an eye on Euan and contented herself by sipping her ale. She’d wait for him. Surely he wouldn’t be as long as Calum feared.

  Someone refilled her cup by the time Euan joined them. He sat opposite her and looked her over as food was placed before him. “Ye look rested,” he told her.

  She smiled. Euan had a lovely soft halo around him. She felt Calum at her side shift to study her.

  “She hasna eaten yet. Waiting for ye,” he told Euan.

  “Ye daft lass.” Euan chuckled and pushed his trencher across to her. “Eat, or ye’ll hate yerself in the morning.”