Highland Honor

by Dana D'Angelo

  Looking around he noticed three bairns and one elderly man scattered around the glowing property. There was no chance that the roof could be saved, but if he moved quickly he could rescue the woman.

  “Ye,” he said pointing to the two youths who stood nearest to him. “Gather your friends, and go get water from the well.” One of the youngsters gave him a sullen look and appeared as if he was about to argue. Griogair narrowed his eyes, daring the boy to cross him. “I want ye tae pour the water around the buildings tae stop the fire from spreading.” With the homes built close to each other, the blaze could catch onto the next dwelling. Fortunately there were no strong winds to fan the devastation.

  “Come on, Symon,” the lad said, tugging at his companion’s arm before dashing off to follow Griogair’s orders. After a moment, Symon gave Griogair a quick, dark glance before disappearing after his friend.

  “What can I do?” An elderly man that Griogair recognized from the market asked. He took off his cap and twisted it in his gnarled hands.

  Settling his gaze on Johne, he said, “Get the livestock from the backyards, and keep everyone away from the houses.”

  Without seeing if his orders were followed, Griogair took off toward the house that had the woman trapped inside. Rushing past Sileas, he ducked through the door.

  The smoke immediately stung his eyes and he lifted an arm to block out the vapor. But the fumes were impenetrable, and he began to cough. Several sections in the dwelling were blazing all at once, and the flames licked the wooden furniture, causing the dense, hot haze to gather in the space.

  He heard a loud crack above him. Instinctively he dropped to his knees, and rolled over to the right, narrowly missing a burning piece of wood that fell from the roof. For a second he placed his head to his knees, gasping as his lungs tried to suck in uncontaminated air. He realized that if he wanted to live, then he needed to stay low to the ground and away from the hovering band of black smoke.

  Griogair heard a weak cough from the far side of the room. When he peered in that direction, all he could see was the common table, which was being consumed by a vicious fire.

  “Where are ye?” he shouted over the roaring flames. A hail storm of ash and burning straw fell all around him.

  Another hacking noise.

  “I’m over here,” a hoarse voice called out.

  He followed the sound of her voice, and concluded that she was located on the other side of the flaming table. The fire was hot and strong, and it forced her to stay in the spot. For a moment, the blaze flickered, allowing him to see the older woman pressed against the wall. She clutched a piece of clothing to her chest while her body was rigid with terror.

  Ignoring the dull thud of pain at the back of his head, he crawled toward her. All the while he tried to avoid the bits of falling debris.

  If it was possible, the screen of vapor was becoming denser, and each breath of air made him choke. At any moment now, the entire roof would buckle, and when that happened, both of their lives would be endangered. Still, he didn’t travel all this way to die in a strange home. He considered rushing through the fire in order to get to the other side. Of course he risked getting severely scorched. And even if he managed to get to the woman, he still had to figure out how to get them safely out of the building. There had to be a better way. As his hand brushed against a sizable bench, an idea sprang forth. If he could somehow propel the bench into the burning table, he could create an opening wide enough for the woman to pass through.

  With renewed determination, he got up to grab one end of the bench. His action ceased abruptly when the smoke once again brought tears to his eyes and irritation to his lungs. Dropping back down to the ground, he began to immediately breathe easier. Getting on his belly, he crawled through the dirt floor. When he reached the table, he drew back his legs, and with one forceful shove, he thrust the bench at the blazing obstacle. The impact sent sparks and ash flying into the air. Once the particles settled, an opening showed itself.

  “Come on!” he yelled, beckoning to her.

  With the cloak still clutched to her breast, the older woman quickly jumped through the small opening. Once she was within his reach, he picked her up in his arms. Then taking one large gulp of air, he held his breath and raced across the smoke-filled room.

  As soon as they cleared the threshold and were outside the building, there was a loud crack behind them. He glanced back just in time to see a portion of the roof caving in. The force of the collapse prompted a rumbling vibration to tremble through the ground. A plume of ash and debris burst and scattered into the blackened sky, while the acrid smell of burning wood and straw permeated the atmosphere. Not far off, the other houses were similarly falling apart. Meanwhile the onlookers could only watch the wreckage with meek hopelessness.

  Griogair set the woman on the ground. His legs burned and his flushed skin felt as if he sat in the middle of a cooking fire. Collapsing beside the woman, he began to cough uncontrollably. He clutched at his chest almost as if by doing so, he could stop his lungs from exploding. The woman curled on the ground and also hacked out the poisonous air from her body.

  Sileas ran to them and threw herself down onto her knees. “Jannet!” she cried. “Ye are safe.” She released her breath and regarded Griogair. “Ye saved my aunt.”

  There was another crash. And in unison, they spun their heads around to watch the remaining roof supports break off and crumple into the building.

  “My house,” Jannet wailed, helplessly looking at her destroyed home. Tears streamed down her soot covered face. She pulled at the woolen mantle, clutching it close to her thin chest.

  “Dinnae worry,” Sileas said, putting an arm around her in a fierce hug. “I’ll help rebuild your home. All that matters is that ye are alive and safe.”

  “I can help ye rebuild as well,” Griogair said quietly.

  Sileas looked at him, her brows raised in surprise. He had no plans to remain behind and help them reconstruct their homes, but their vulnerability unnerved him.

  Seeing that his offer was sincere, she relaxed and her full sensuous lips curved into a smile. He stared at the transformation in her face. He thought that she was appealing before, but when she smiled, she was the most beautiful lass that he had ever seen. All of a sudden he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. But he kept his wits about him, and he fought from leaning forward and claiming her mouth.

  “How will we manage tae thatch the roof before winter arrives?” The older woman asked as she shook her head. She watched in dismay as the smaller supports broke off and crumbled to the ground.

  “I’ve thatched many roofs,” he said. “With the help of some lads, we should have your home fixed in nay time.”

  Relief filled both of their faces. But then Sileas focused on her aunt, her smile dying. “I cannae believe that ye went back into the burning house,” she said. “’Twas reckless, and if —” She then peered at him, her brows furrowed as if she tried to remember his name.

  “Griogair,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

  She sent him a tremulous smile before refocusing her attention on the older woman. “If Griogair hadnae come along, ye would have died.” She clasped Jannet’s hand. “Dinnae ever do such a foolish thing like that again.”

  “’Twas nae foolish at all,” she said, shaking her head in denial. “This cloak belonged tae my Blayre.” Lifting up a shaky hand, she stroked the ragged fabric as if it was her husband that she caressed. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with tears. “I couldnae allow it tae burn.”

  Sileas made an impatient sound with her tongue. “Some things arenae worth dying for, Jannet.”

  “That’s where ye are wrong, lass.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers. She then pressed the worn cloak to her cheek. “If my husband was still alive, I would have nay cause tae run into a raging fire tae get this auld cloak. But since this is all I have of him, I would risk my life again tae get it back. Ye will understand when y
e have met your true love.”

  Chapter 11

  “Thank ye for helping us earlier,” Sileas said, her hand clutching at a damp rag. “If ye hadnae gone tae rescue my aunt —” As soon as she started to speak about Jannet, the words stuck in her throat, and the incident hit her with full force. While she loved her mother, it was Jannet who she was closest to. If Griogair hadn’t risked his life to save her aunt, then she would have lost her forever.

  “’Twas nothing,” he said.

  His leine seemed filthy from the fire, although it was unseemly to ask him to take it off. Still, even through his linen shirt, she could see his broad shoulders. Instinctively she sensed that he held a lot of tension in the area. It was understandable though. He was an outsider, and not too long ago, she had knocked him senseless and imprisoned him. Likely he was sore and tired from his travel as well. He might have avoided all this trouble if he had minded his own business, and ignored the clothes that hung on the tree. But he didn’t. Instead, he disregarded his own comfort, and risked his life to save a woman who meant nothing to him.

  An unshakable sense of guilt gripped her as she reflected on how much harm she had inflicted upon him. Her head slumped forward. Even if she had money, she wondered if any payment would be enough to compensate for his pains. Although she had no coins to give him, she still felt a need to repay him for his kindness. But how? As she watched him try to rotate his powerful shoulders, an idea popped into her head. One thing she could offer was to help rub the tension out from his muscles. When she was younger, her mother used to massage her back each night to help her relax. It had always felt wonderful. Perhaps she could assist Griogair by rubbing his back in a similar manner. She was almost certain he needed to ease the strain from the area.

  As she mulled over the idea, she realized that although she wanted to reciprocate his act of kindness, she had another motive, a motive that wasn’t so innocent, or so easy to understand. She had never witnessed a man this robust. And while she had yet to touch him, her body thrummed with explosive awareness. What would it feel like to press the taut flesh with her hands, and explore the powerful, expanse of his massive frame...?

  Glancing behind her, she felt guilty for entertaining her wanton thoughts. When she saw that Androu was still fast asleep on his pallet, she relaxed slightly. Her mother and aunt had gone to assess the damages that the attackers inflicted, and at the moment the great hall was almost empty.

  Turning back to Griogair, she continued to carefully wipe the soot from his cheeks. Fortunately she discovered that his eyes were closed, and she took the opportunity to study his rugged features. At the market she had noticed his immense and menacing presence, but at this close proximity, she was made keenly aware of his virile beauty. His reddish-brown hair was parted in the middle of his head and grew past his shoulders. Trailing the damp cloth over to his temple, she noted the dark, thick eyebrows that slanted over eyes that she knew were as green as the first flush of spring. But there were distinctive black rims that circled the orbs, giving them a startling appeal. Her gaze fell to the slight stubble which grew along his strong jawline. All of a sudden she felt a tingling impulse to run her fingertips over the coarse hair. Swallowing, she thrust the urge aside, and continued with the task of wiping his face.

  But even as she tried to stay focused, she couldn’t stem the flow of her thoughts. Her regard grazed the side of his features, noting the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. These were signs of a man who liked to laugh, a man that didn’t take life too seriously. Likely if he lived in the Borderlands, his demeanor would harden. But it intrigued her that he was so different from the men that she knew. It didn’t help matters that he was the most attractive male that she had ever come across. The men that she noticed in the Lowlands were dirty, unkempt, and didn’t interest her at all. But this stranger was like a breath of fresh mountain air. He had a magnetic, lethal energy about him, an uncontained vitality like that of a wildcat’s. She shuddered to think what sort of injuries he could inflict on his enemies. He seemed to dwarf everything around him, and even though he was only one man, his presence made the great hall appear small and claustrophobic. In their brief meeting by the stream, and from the time they raced back to the village, she was too distracted to notice any of these things about him. But now she noticed. In fact maybe she noticed a little too much.

  Sileas shifted uncomfortably as she felt flushed from being so close to his thrilling heat. But even though she felt slightly rattled by him, the urge to touch him became almost unbearable. Then no longer able to resist the temptation, she reached up with unsteady hands, and pushed aside the strand of hair that hung at the side of his handsome visage. A twisting warmth weaved in and out of her body, and she knew with certainty that the increased temperature had nothing to do with the air pressure in the large chamber.

  She moved to the back of him, and was relieved when she no longer felt the full brunt of his magnetic power. Lifting her hand, she began to clean off the dried blood that was caked on his strong neck. “This will sting a wee bit.”

  As soon as the cloth touched his skin, he jerked slightly and let out a hiss. She winced a little knowing that she had deliberately chosen a jagged rock, and at the time she wanted to inflict as much injury as possible.

  “I didnae mean tae be sae rude tae ye when we were by the brook,” she said, her tone apologetic. She carefully sponged off more of the dried blood. Biting down on her lip, she debated whether she should reveal anything further to the horse-trader. From her short dealings with him, his assistance was sincere, and his presence at Sundholm Tower was a boon to her and her people. It was likely that he wondered why her clan was being targeted by the bandits. Finally she decided to speak her mind and explained, “We’ve lately experienced some distress. At first the incidents started off as inconveniences, but now they’ve become increasingly difficult. I ken that the troublemakers are the same ones that attacked us today.” She drew in a deep breath. “As ye can imagine, we’re on edge at the moment.”

  As she spoke about the burdens of the clan, she noticed that his shoulders stiffened. Once again the urge to ease his tension became overpowering. “Ye are strained,” she said. “Would ye like me tae knead your back?”

  “I dinnae need —” he started to say, but her hands were already pressing the taut flesh. In the next instant, he let out a deep, contented sigh. “That feels guid. Where did ye learn tae do that?”

  “Ma says that I have talent in my hands and fingers,” she let out a tiny smile. “And my da says that the rubs usually help him.” She continued to roll her hands over his flesh.

  As she suspected, his skin was as smooth as granite. Her palms felt warm as she pushed at the knots along his shoulders, gliding along and instinctively squeezing and pressing at the right spots. When a noise of satisfaction sounded low in his throat, she felt pleasure well up in her breast. Other than her family members, she had never touched a man like this, although she discovered that she liked the intimacy.

  “How long have ye had these occurrences?” he asked, his deep brogue conversational and pleasant.

  “The occurrences?” she repeated absently. Her mind was still focused on his magnificent body. As if her hands had minds of their own, they continued to manipulate the corded muscles along his shoulders. What was it about this man that made her feel so peculiar? And why did she want to keep her hands on his body, and feel his vibrant strength? From the moment she met him, he had intrigued her, and for some reason she wanted to know more about him.

  “Ye havenae answered my question,” he said after a long moment passed.

  “Och, ye were asking about the incidents,” she said, his question penetrating through her thoughts. She snapped out of her self-imposed trance and pondered the inquiry. “The first attack happened about a sennight ago. And ever since then, we have had a succession of small and unexpected inconveniences.”

  “I find it odd,” he said.

  Sileas shrugged, struggling t
o keep up with the conversation. His nearness was affecting her, and all she could concentrate on was his heady male scent. “’Tis the way of the Lowlands,” she said. “My clansmen have gone tae get property that was stolen from us. The March Warden gives us six days tae retrieve our possessions. If we dinnae counter-raid within that time, then our property is forfeited.”

  “Sae they have gone reiving.”

  “Aye, in a way,” she said, letting out an unconscious sigh. “We have nay other means of survival, so we must take what we need from others.”

  His body seemed more relaxed, and the guilt that knotted at her gut had subsided somewhat. Feeling bolder, she moved to stand in front of him. “Would ye like me tae continue?”

  “Please.” The smile he sent caused her heart to flutter.

  Almost as if her hands were moving on their own accord, they reached over and began to rub the sides of his neck. Her hands pressed at the tension before intuitively moving up to his ears. With his eyes closed, he appeared almost boyish. She ran her palm along his skin, taking in the feel of the taut muscles, and how they strongly pushed back against her touch. This strength was likely formed through hours of grueling labor and handling horses.

  Now that she was in front of him, she took the occasion to study him again. When he had stumbled upon the spot near the brook, she had little chance to consider his sudden appearance. If he arrived only a few minutes later, he would have caught her bathing naked in the stream. That realization should have horrified her, but instead she felt intrigued by the idea. No male had ever seen her unclothed, yet the thought of Griogair viewing her nude body brought on a strange, unfamiliar heat to churn inside of her.