April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02

by Escape To The Highlands

  Jacqueline’s frightening dream shook her awake. Even with the cold air blowing in from outside the cavern, she woke with a sweat. Immediately, she sat up to calm her rapid breathing. Glancing around, she realized that Ewan was gone. Panic set in as she thought that her rescuer had left her alone. She would not blame him though. Helping her would only put his own life in danger and perhaps it was too much of a bargain to ask for.

  Hearing commotion from outside the cave, Jacqueline went to peek outside. Down the hill, she saw several men with torches illuminating the darkness. She assumed they were the English soldiers scouting the area for her and the prisoners. From behind her, she heard leaves rustling underneath heavy footsteps. She looked down and found a thick piece of wood and picked it up. Hiding aside the entrance of the cave, she held the wood up high above her head, she waited for the intruder to reveal himself. Suddenly turning the corner, a large figure emerged and Jacqueline swung down hard onto the man’s head knocking him out cold.

  Dropping the piece of wood, she used her foot to turn the trespasser onto his front side. In his arms he held onto what appeared to be a pile of clothing. Lifting up the fabric that covered his face, Jacqueline dropped to his side immediately after realizing that the man she attacked was Ewan.

  “Oh Ewan, I am so sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” Ewan did not move or respond.

  Praying that she did not kill him, she shook him a few times trying to wake him, hoping that the Englishmen below were not aware of their presence.

  Thunder clashed in the distance and a few drops of light rain began to pour down. When Ewan did not recover quickly, Jacqueline stood and grabbed onto his feet. With all her might, she dragged him into the cave to lay him next to the fire and went back outside for the clothes he was carrying.

  Laying his head on her lap, she brushed her hand over his forehead where now a large red bump protruded. What have I done? Grabbing onto one of the articles of clothing to dry his face, Jacqueline realized that what she was holding onto was a gown. Looking at the beautiful purple stitched pattern, it dawned on her that he had left to find her something more appropriate to wear, other than her nightgown and robe. She felt awful for her terrible behavior.

  Holding him this close, Jacqueline could not resist raking her fingers through his thick black hair. The flames of the fire glowed off his tanned skin. With his narrow face and angular cheekbones, he was a very handsome man. Jacqueline’s eyes caught a flicker of a shine from his chest. She looked back at him to see if he had wakened from his slumber and carefully lifted the top of his collar to reveal a beautiful gold medallion. It was round with an image of what looked to be a boar’s head with a hammer below it. Uncertain of its meaning, Jacqueline assumed it represented his clan.

  What Jacqueline did find peculiar, was a light blue ribbon knotted to the chain that hung aside the medallion. Ribbons, Jacqueline knew were used to represent a lady’s favor. Never did she consider Ewan to be married or betrothed, but perhaps he did have someone in his life that he cared for deeply, just as she had her James’ heart. Hours passed and Jacqueline couldn’t stay awake any longer. Leaning back against the cavern wall, she fell asleep with Ewan’s head still resting on her lap.

  Chapter 7

  Ewan awoke with the most excruciating headache. Without opening his eyes, he placed his hand on top of his crown feeling a large painful bump on the side of his head. His fingers combed through a clump of hair that rested above his head and immediately he opened his eyes and looked up. Just above him, a beautiful sleeping lass held him in her arms. Confused by what had happened last night, he tried to remember but his mind was blank.

  “Good, you are awake. I was worried about you,” Jacqueline said while she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

  Ewan lifted his head from her lap and sat up. The rush of blood made him feel disorientated.

  “How did I get here? The last thing I remember was being attacked.”

  “You were not attacked. I was the one who hit you. It was only an accident. I saw the English soldiers and thought that you were one of them.”

  “It was ye who attacked me. Why didn’t ye just kill me and run off.”

  Frustrated, Jacqueline stood up from the ground. “You still don’t trust me?” she accused.

  “My lady, I can give ye three reasons why I dinna trust ye. Yer a woman, I dinna ken ye and yer English. I did however offer ye protection and that I am giving ye. I e’en went out to gather ye some things as ye can nay keep traveling dressed as ye are. I found ye something to wear.”

  Jacqueline bit her tongue, worried that she would say something that she may regret. Looking down at the dark purple gown and black cloak, she asked, “Where did you find these?”

  “They were hung up drying outside one of the crofts we passed. I borrowed it.”

  Jacqueline looked down at the stolen dress. She was not accustomed to taking things that did not belong to her and reminded herself to ask for forgiveness for Ewan’s transgression. She couldn’t help but become aware that even though his action was unruly, the gesture was kind that she felt a thank you was in order.

  “I thank you. Again you have shown me kindness when others have not.”

  “Yer welcome,” Ewan said still rubbing his head.

  Jacqueline looked down at her mud-covered nightgown and felt the mangled knots in her hair. Remembering they passed a creek along the way, she wanted to wash up before they were to leave towards Carrick. She picked up the gown and cloak from the ground and bundled them up into her arms.

  “If you will please excuse me, I would like some privacy.”

  “Dinna go off too far.”

  Ewan waited for what seemed to be a long time for a lass to have some privacy. Worried that she may be in danger, he set out after her. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon allowing for better lighting to follow Jacqueline’s tracks. With the snow almost melted, the tracks became harder to follow. Ewan slowed his pace as her footprints veered off down towards a creek at the bottom of a small incline. Along the water’s edge, he caught a glimpse of Jacqueline and his horse. She had led the horse down to the water to drink. Ewan began slowly walking towards the slope.

  Leaning against a tree, he watched her as she stroked her hand along the horse’s mane. Never had he seen a lass so gentle and calm around such a beast of considerable size to her short and petite frame. Her beauty was breathtaking. Ewan had himself many lasses before, but none like her. She was full of life and passion.

  Droplets of water fell from the ends of her hair and her skin glowed with the sun. The purple dress she wore hugged the curves around her slender waistline and hips. Ewan could not draw his eyes away from her. Her beauty was stunning.

  Jacqueline felt the sense that someone was watching her. She stepped further behind the horse as cover and stood on her toes to peek over the horse’s back at the surrounding woods. At the top of the mount stood Ewan looking down on her.

  “Have you been watching me? Have you no decency?” Jacqueline scowled.

  “Ye dinna need to worry, lass. I only just got here and I dinna see anything. Besides, it is no’ like I have no’ see a lass before.”

  Jacqueline’s jaw dropped surprised by his continued rude remarks. Glaring up at him, she was uncertain whether she believed him or not.

  “How is your head?” she hesitantly asked.

  “Better. I must say my lady, that if ye ever go into battle I will have to warn the mon ye attack. Ye have one hell of a swing on ye.”

  “One should hope to be so lucky. One day you may face a real challenge and come back with more than just a bump on your head,” she teased.

  Ewan snickered at her sarcastic remark.

  “Fer such a wee lass ye can be quite feisty.”

  “I just say what is on my mind,” Jacqueline said as she held her head up high feeling proud to be able to take on this relentless warrior with only her wits.

  “Ye are a maddening woman,” he said as he cursed under
his breath.

  Jacqueline sarcastically smirked.

  Ewan looked up at the sky as it began to darken. The clouds were moving fast and the wind had slightly picked up. A storm was coming, and fast. The creek and open fields did not provide much shelter from the rain and Ewan wanted to get on their way before it worsened.

  “There is a storm a comin’. We should go.”

  Jacqueline mounted the horse and waited for Ewan to tie up his bag to the saddle strap and climb up behind her. She looked up at the sky as the first few raindrops began to fall. As they rode, she didn’t want to complain about the cold she felt and of how sore her muscles were becoming. She only wanted to be grateful for Ewan’s kindness and sympathy. Jacqueline was determined to not show her weakness. She knew that both her life and Ewan’s were in danger. She prayed for strength.

  In just the few short days she knew him, Ewan had become a friend to Jacqueline, even though their friendship was a little unorthodox. But deep down he was becoming so much more. He was not the savage, lawless brute thought to run around the woods, killing the innocent as Scots are portrayed. He was a proud man, who fights for freedom from injustice. Jacqueline had never met herself a more honorable man.

  As the wind picked up, Ewan was forced to slow his horse as the hard rain whipped in his face. He wrapped his plaid around himself and Jacqueline to help keep both of them dry. Even as the wind whistled, he could hear Jacqueline’s stomach growl from hunger.

  Knowing that he did not have enough rations for the two of them until they reached the village, he rode into the thickest part of the woods to help block out some of the rain. They found that underneath an old oak tree offered them the best protection. Its broad leaves had already begun to open offering what little shelter it could. At least this will help keep her dry, he thought. Dismounting his horse, he grabbed onto Jacqueline’s waist and helped her down.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “It is time to eat. The storm should be passing soon,” Ewan said as he pulled out a bow and the quiver full of arrows fastened to the side of the saddle. “Stay here where ye can keep dry. I shall go find us our meal.”

  Ewan notched the arrow in place and stepped away. Listening to the sounds of the forest, he crept forward waiting for any sign of wildlife to present itself. Hunting was a game of patience and precision. It was the only true challenge for man; one between man and beast, both with instincts to protect itself. No rules, no deceit, an honest fight to the death, Ewan recalled his father telling him and his cousins Rory and Bram when they were wee lads. It was an enjoyable pastime. One in which Ewan had learned many life lessons. His father always trained the lads to see the world through a different perspective and to see more than what was in front of them. Ewan had taken much of what he was taught for granted until he experienced firsthand the meaning of loss.

  At the sound of leaves rustling about Ewan straightened his shoulders and raised the bow into the direction of the noise and released the arrow. Walking into the direction of his mark, a dead rabbit laid lifeless. Ewan bent down and picked up the hare by its feet and headed back towards Jacqueline.

  “I see you have caught us a hearty meal. And the rain has stopped just in time,” Jacqueline said as she saw the rabbit dangling from Ewan’s hand.

  “Aye.”

  Ewan opened his satchel and grabbed onto a bundle of peat he had saved. Kicking the wet leaves around the ground, he cleared out a small spot on the dirt and set the peat down. Lighting it with a flint, he grabbed a sturdy branch and hung the rabbit over the fire.

  “Once we eat, we will head east towards the village of Werth. It is a day’s travel so we should be there before dusk. Tonight we will camp in the woods,” Ewan said as he tore off a piece of cooked meat and handed it to Jacqueline.

  Jacqueline sat down on a log and breathed in the clean fresh air. She always loved the smell outside just after a rainfall. As the sun peeked through a break in the clouds, its warmth beaded down on her. Finally, she thought, spring has arrived.

  “Ye should seek some privacy before we leave. Fer we will no’ be stopping until nightfall,” Ewan proposed.

  Popping the last piece of meat in her mouth, Jacqueline took his advice and excused herself. As soon as she relieved herself, she journeyed back towards Ewan. When she got back, Ewan had already removed all evidence that they were there and was already mounted on his horse.

  Noticing her curiosity, he replied, “With the English out here looking fer ye, I dinna want to leave a trail that would make ‘em want to search these woods.”

  “You have thought this through very thoroughly.”

  “Aye. I have had me a run in or two with the English before and am verra good at losing ‘em off my track,” Ewan said as he reached out his hand to indicate his assistance.

  Jacqueline willingly accepted it and swung up behind him. Clutching her hands onto his waist, he kicked his horse into a full run. Knowing that time was not on their side, they rode almost nonstop, only stopping to stretch and relieve themselves. Jacqueline quietly watched as the scenery flew by. The landscape was beginning to change right before her eyes. It had become hilly and covered in purple heather and lush greenery. Far different from the flat lands and open pastures that she was used to. As the sun lowered in the heavens, the colors in the sky faded from blues to reds and yellows.

  Ewan directed his horse into a cove along a crystal clear lake. The sandy shoreline was covered with fine grains of sand and small pebbles. Jacqueline eagerly got down to stretch out her legs. After such a long ride, her thigh muscles burned from the strain of bracing herself atop the horse.

  Ewan grabbed onto his bag and entered the carved-out cove that stood at the base of a moss-covered hill to set up camp. Eager to relieve her muscle pain and to wash, Jacqueline decided to dip her foot into the water to test how cold it was.

  “The water feels warm,” she called out.

  “Aye, there is a warm spring coming down from the mountain. Many of the smaller lakes and creeks will nay be too cold,” he yelled out so she could hear him in the distance.

  Lifting her skirt around her arm so that it would not get wet, Jacqueline slowly walked into the loch until her calves were completely exposed to the coolness of the water. Leaning into the water, she began to clean off the muck and grime from her hands and face. Hearing the sound of splashing, Jacqueline flipped her hair over her shoulder and wiped the water from her eyes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when she saw Ewan fully submerged into the water.

  “Bathing,” Ewan said as he began to swim around.

  Jacqueline looked onto the shoreline and saw the pile of clothes that Ewan had been wearing.

  “You cannot bathe with me here, it is indecent,” Jacqueline scowled.

  Ewan laughed as he saw the redness fill Jacqueline’s cheeks; she abruptly turned away from him. But just as she jerked around, Jacqueline slipped and her body quickly was immersed under the water. Ewan leaped forward into the water towards Jacqueline. Helping to lift her up out of the water, Jacqueline fussed over getting her gown completely soaked.

  “Are ye alright, lass?” Ewan asked smiling over her amusing predicament.

  As Jacqueline stood, she cried out in pain and held onto her leg. Not knowing what had happened, Ewan picked her up off her feet and began walking her to the shore. Laying her down on the sandbar, Ewan looked at her ankle that she was rubbing intensely.

  “Let me take a look at ye, lass.”

  Jacqueline released her leg exposing an already bruised and swollen ankle.

  “My foot caught on a rock I think,” Jacqueline said as she cringed at the sight of it.

  “I dinna think ye broke it. It may be just a sprain. Ye will no’ be able to walk on it fer a while.”

  Jacqueline raised her eyes and froze at the sight of the naked man crotched down in front her. Quickly, she averted her eyes, but not before she caught sight of his manhood. The image was haunting. The size and how it protr
uded down his muscular thighs and large calves.

  “Could you please cover yourself?” Jacqueline embarrassingly asked.

  Ewan stepped away from her and wrapped himself with his kilt. He knew that with Jacqueline’s ankle it would make traveling much more difficult. He picked up the rest of this clothing and the tunic that was hung on the branch and placed them in the crook of his arm.

  “I will need to carry ye back to camp. Ye can nay walk on it fer ye will make the pain worse.”

  Jacqueline nodded and raised her arms for him to lift her. As Ewan lifted her in his arms, he couldn’t help but notice how her wet gown, clung tightly around her lush supple breasts. The top of her chemise was pulled down exposing the top of her cleavage and her nipples perked out and hardened from the cold, causing Ewan’s manhood to stiffen. Desire heated his blood as he yearned to squeeze the small buds and taste her flesh. Ewan was unsure if he could restrain himself.

  Jacqueline tried to ignore the unnerving glances he gave her. His looks were sinful and full of lust. Not much different than the looks that Lord Wessex had when he looked at her. Gently, Ewan set Jacqueline down on a dry log and covered her with his plaid.

  “Here is a tunic ye can wear. It is warm and dry and ye need to get out of yer wet clothes before ye get feverish. I will leave so ye can dress in private.”

  Covering herself under the plaid she slipped off the wet gown and chemise and donned Ewan’s tunic. It was large and hung down to her knees, but she was thankful for something clean and dry to wear.