A Highlander's Destiny (Digital Boxed Edition)

by Willa Blair

  “My thanks to you, Ewan. I never want to see this plaid again.” Ewan was evidently a great deal more perceptive than he looked. Ian had come to like and respect the man; he just wished that things could be different.

  “Ewan, is there nothing else that can be done for Angus?” Ian knew he was practically whining, but he refused to give up hope.

  Ewan’s face flushed with anger. “Alannah has not left his side since we brought him here yesterday. She has not slept, and she has barely eaten. She is doing all she can, and there is no better healer I know of. Not to mention that Andrew’s been ravin’ like a madman about why we’re tryin’ so hard to help a ‘bastard Mackenzie.’ What more is there?”

  His tone softened a bit. “I know you want him to live, Ian. I want that as well. But I fear ’twill take a miracle. I must go now. I will return if there is any news.”

  The door closed behind Ewan, and they were alone once more. Abby took the food out of the basket and began laying it out on a piece of cloth: cold roasted chicken, bread and honey, some kind of stew, and a flagon each of water and wine. She set aside the empty basket.

  “God DAMN it!”

  Ian kicked the empty basket as though it were a soccer ball, sending it shooting against the wall with such force that it splintered. He looked down at Abby, who was kneeling on the floor, her eyes filled with sorrow as she gazed up at him. He began pacing back and forth in the small space.

  “I feel so damned helpless, Abby! That man is up there dying from a fever! A fever, not the gaping hole in his side, but a damned fever! If we were back home, he’d be in a hospital right now, getting hit with round after round of antibiotics, which would at least give him a fighting chance! But here, he has no chance. None!”

  He continued pacing, swearing in English and Gaelic. Abby was silent, and when he looked down at her once more, there were tears in her eyes. He dropped down beside her and took her into his arms.

  “I’m sorry for losing it like this, mo cridhe, but it’s like a nightmare from which I cannot wake.” He buried his face against her soft hair, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t want to die, Abby. That man is dying in agony because of me, and all I can think about is that I don’t want to die! What kind of man does that make me?”

  Abby pulled back and put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look into her soft blue-gray eyes. “It makes you human, my love. Only human. Nothing more, nothing less. And I love you for it.”

  They held each other for awhile, and then began to eat the food Ewan had brought, neither of them with any enthusiasm. Ian tore off a piece of bread, drizzled honey on it, and put it in his mouth, mechanically chewing, the sweet bread all but tasteless. He began to tear off another piece. His eyes suddenly focused on the freshly-baked loaf in his hand, and he jumped to his feet, scattering bits of food all over.

  “Holy shit!”

  “What is it, Ian?”

  He waved the bread at her. “Moldy bread!”

  She stopped in mid-chew and looked down in alarm at the bread in her hand. “It’s moldy? What the hell was Ewan thinking?”

  Ian couldn’t help but laugh at the look in her eyes. “No, Abby, this bread isn’t moldy. But you get penicillin from moldy bread, right?”

  “I do remember that from high school biology. But…”

  Ian dropped the bread and grabbed Abby under the arms, lifting her to her feet. She looked as though she thought he was daft. He supposed he was.

  “Abby, I brought penicillin with me.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know what condition you’d be in when I found you. I thought you might be injured or something, so I brought penicillin. And aspirin, too, come to think of it.”

  “Ian, where is it?”

  “In my saddlebag, sewn into a corner of a blanket.” His heart pounded with new excitement, chasing away the despair that had been there. “Abby, a seventeenth-century body has never been introduced to an antibiotic. It just might be strong enough to fight the infection.”

  “Ian, that’s wonderful! What do we do now? How do we get it to him?”

  “Alannah. I need to get Alannah down here. Now!”

  Ian banged on the door and shouted in Gaelic. “Hey, is someone out there? Hey! Anyone out there?”

  “What is it?” yelled a voice from outside.

  “I need Alannah here, now! Please,” he added.

  It seemed like hours before Ewan arrived.

  “What’s the matter? Are you ill?”

  “Nay, Ewan. I need to see Alannah. Quickly! It’s about Angus.”

  “What about Angus?”

  Ian exhaled in exasperation, and Abby stepped forward, grabbing Ewan’s hand. “Ewan, please. Ian thought of something that might help Angus, and we need to explain it to Alannah. Something from back home. Please. There’s no time to waste.”

  Ewan stared at the two of them for a moment and then disappeared through the door.

  A short time later, Alannah arrived. When the light from the torch hit her face, Ian had to forcibly hold back a gasp. She looked like she was about to fall over. Her face was dead white but for the black shadows under her eyes.

  “I do not have much time. I fear leaving Angus alone for too long. What is it? Ewan said you thought of something that might help him?”

  “Aye. You must listen to what I say and trust me. Can you do that?”

  She was silent a moment, her eyes searching his. Finally she nodded. “Aye. Tell me.”

  “Find my saddlebag. There’s a blanket in there, and one of the corners is sewn up. In that corner there should be a packet. It contains pills, which are a form of powdered medicine compressed into small round pieces. There are two different sizes. The smaller ones are for pain. The larger ones are for infection—fever. There are 12 of each. Take two of the larger ones and grind them up with your mortar and pestle. Then dissolve them in water and have him drink it. Do this every four hours until you have used it all. You can do the same for the small pills; it will help the pain.”

  “I do not understand. What are they made from? How did you get them?”

  Ian took her cold hands in his. “Alannah, please. You have to trust me. It is medicine I brought from my village. They have a very skilled healer there, and he makes a powder from ground herbs and the like. Please. Angus is already dying. What harm can it do to try?”

  Alannah shifted her gaze from Ian to Abby. “Know you anything of this medicine, Abby?”

  “I do, Alannah. What Ian says is true. Please do as he says, Alannah. It’s our last chance to save Angus—to save Ian. Please.”

  She looked back at Ian. “The larger ones are for the fever, you said? And I grind up two at a time and dissolve in water, and give it to him every four hours, aye?”

  “Aye, that’s correct. And if you can get him to eat some bread first, that would help. The medicine is powerful, and it might make him sick if he doesn’t have some food in him.”

  Alannah nodded slowly. “All right. I will try what you said, and I’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

  “It make take a few doses for it to work. Don’t give up after one.”

  “I won’t.”

  With a swish of skirts, Alannah was gone.

  “Ian, do you think it will work?”

  He gazed down at Abby’s face, pale with worry. “I wish I knew, mo cridhe. I wish I knew. All we can do now is wait.”

  All the energy that had filled him in his excitement over the antibiotics left him in a rush, and he sank down to the floor, pulling Abby down with him.

  “Remember what I said, Abby. If all goes ill, get the hell out of here.”

  “Ian, there has to be a way for us to both get out of here if it comes to that. I won’t leave you here!”

  “Abby, MacNab told me before I came here that above all else, I have to be careful that what I do in the past doesn’t impact the future. If my presence here causes a clan war, it will certainly change history. And you
can be sure that Ewan has guards posted. As much as he may not want to turn me over to them, he will do what’s best for his people.”

  He cupped his hands around her face and gazed into her eyes. “I need to know that you’ll be safe, Abby. Promise me that you’ll go.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried. He stroked her hair until her breathing became slow and even and he knew she was asleep.

  He lay awake, watching over her as she slept, wondering what would become of them.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ian heard his name being called as if from the end of a long tunnel. There was no way he was responding, having just fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning and pacing.

  “Ian!”

  There it was again, that insistent voice. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his heart clenching with sorrow. He knew—he just knew—that this was it. Angus had finally succumbed to the insidious fever that had gripped him these last few days, and they were coming for him.

  Hands began shaking him, and he lashed out, unwilling to go down without a fight. His fist struck something—there was a sudden intake of breath as though someone was in pain. Good. Someone swore in Gaelic and then a heavy weight was upon him, pinning him to the ground.

  “Ian! Wake up! You must wake up!” Wait a minute. He knew that voice. He opened his eyes to see Abby’s face inches from his, her eyes filled with excitement. Excitement?

  He tried to reach for her, but couldn’t move his hand. As he struggled, the oppressive weight on his chest increased, and he couldn’t breathe. His vision began to swim.

  “Ewan, please! Get off him. He’s awake now.”

  “If I lay off, can I trust you not to hit anyone else, you wee fool?”

  Ian nodded his head, unable to do more than that. Ewan was a big man. Then the weight was off him, and he could breathe once more. He laid his head down and concentrated on breathing for a few moments.

  “What happened?” he asked hoarsely.

  Abby laid her hand against his cheek. “When we tried to wake you, you started lashing out, and your fist caught Ewan in the side. He had to restrain you. Everything will be all right now.” She helped him sit up. He stared into her eyes, which were…twinkling?

  “Abby, what is it?”

  “Ian, it worked! He’s awake! Angus is awake!” So mesmerized was he by her brilliant smile and sparkling silvery-blue eyes that her words didn’t immediately register.

  “What?” He tore his gaze from Abby and stared at Ewan. “He’s awake?”

  A smile appeared on Ewan’s stern face. “Aye, Ian. His fever broke a few hours ago. He slept for a little while after that, but he just awakened. He’s asking for you. And the lass.”

  “He’s not dead?” Ian was afraid to hope. Was this just a dream? Would he awaken to find himself in chains, being led to his death?

  “Nay, Ian. He’s not dead. Your strange medicine worked.” Ewan extended his big hand, and Ian took it, allowing the other man to pull him to his feet. Ewan clapped him on the back before releasing him.

  Ian turned to Abby. He grabbed her and lifted her up, swinging her around in a circle, both of them laughing in relief and joy. He clutched her to him in a fierce hug and kissed her with the full force of his pent-up emotion. Her hands twined in his hair and she kissed him back, just as passionately.

  A sudden throat-clearing had them jumping apart. Ewan stood with his big arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but your presence is requested elsewhere, in case you had forgotten.”

  Ewan preceded them out of the shed into the fresh air. It was raining outside, and the sky was a dismal gray. Ian thought he’d never before seen such a beautiful day. They were escorted to Ewan’s house, where Angus lay in bed, his bare torso swathed in bandages, drinking from a flagon that Alannah held to his lips. She looked up when they entered, and her exhausted face broke into a smile. A man stood at the head of the bed. He looked enough like Angus for Ian to assume it was his son, and the threatening glare emanating from his eyes when he spotted Ian confirmed it.

  Angus must have picked up on the sudden tension in the room, because he asked Alannah to step back, murmuring his thanks. She moved to Abby’s side, where the two women linked hands. Angus looked toward the door. His face was pale, but his eyes were clear and he smiled weakly.

  “Come here, laddie, and let me have a look at you.”

  Ian obeyed, and stood on the opposite side of the bed from Angus’s son. He looked into Angus’s face, and he could now see the resemblance to his own father. His heart was filled with anguish.

  “I’m sorry, Angus. I didn’t—”

  Angus’s hand on Ian’s arm stopped him mid-sentence. “Hush, lad. I knew the risks when I abducted your woman. I swear I would not have harmed her, though you had no way of knowing that. We thought the message Ewan sent was a trap, and I planned to hold the women to insure my own men would come to no harm when we met with you. I thought we’d be able to get them back to our camp before anyone noticed they were gone.”

  He paused, short of breath. His son brought a dipper of water to his lips, and there was an uneasy silence in the room while everyone waited for Angus to speak again.

  He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “You were lookin’ out for your lass, and no one can blame you for that. I saw you riding towards me on that huge horse, and I knew it was the end. All I could think about was not going down without a fight. You could have cut me down from the back of that horse, and I wouldn’t have stood a chance. Instead, you chose to fight on foot. ’Twas a fair fight. More than fair, to tell the truth. I don’t know if I ever faced an opponent as skilled as yourself.”

  His sudden chuckle turned into a cough, and he took another long sip of water before continuing. “But I got myself into that mess all on my own, and if ’tis anyone’s fault that I’m lyin’ here, barely out of the reach of Death’s cold hand, ’tis my own. What’s your name, laddie?”

  “Ian James Mackenzie.”

  “Ian, you look so much like your father, I thought I was seein’ a ghostie before. Tell me of Duncan. Tell me how he’s been alive all these years and we never knew it.”

  Ian launched into the same tale he’d told Ewan just days earlier. When he finished, Angus looked at him in confusion. “Why did he not write or send word that he was alive and well? How could he not realize that we believed he was dead?”

  Ian sighed inwardly. There really was no good answer to that question, at least none that he could safely give.

  “A part of my father died with Catriona that night. He was out of his mind with grief. He could think of nothing beyond trying to escape his sorrow. Once he began to get his life back, the last thing he wanted to do was relive all that pain. The selfishness of his actions resulted in 30 years of feuding, stealing, and bloodshed. And when he finds out, he will be inconsolable. I cannot offer any other excuses for him, Angus.”

  Angus shook his head slightly. “Nay, lad. ’Tis I who cannot judge Duncan for his actions, as I know not how I would have acted in his place.”

  The man on the other side of the bed spoke up for the first time. “Da, are you sure this man is who he says he is? Does he have any proof other than a family resemblance?” Ian met the man’s eyes, and felt a moment’s fear at the hatred he saw there. This man was not as understanding as his father.

  He turned to Ewan. “Do you have my dirk?”

  “Aye, ’tis in the other room with the rest of your gear.” He gestured to one of his men to fetch it and hand it to Angus.

  Stubbornly waving aside his son’s offer of help, Angus slowly pulled the dirk from its sheath, sweat beading on his brow from the effort. He ran his fingers reverently over the etched words on the handle.

  He looked up at his son with tears in his eyes. “Douglas, I was with Duncan the day this was given to him. We’d gone hunting a few days be
fore, and he felled his first stag. We were 10. My da made a saddlebag from the hide and had the blacksmith fashion this dirk for Duncan, using the antler as a handle. Everyone was so proud of him.”

  His gaze shifted to Ian. “He kept it all this time, then?”

  “Aye, and he loved you well, Angus. He named his firstborn, my older brother, Robert Angus. He never forgot you.” Ian laughed suddenly, earning looks of shock from the others in the room. “He also named his horse after you. Wee Angus.”

  Angus laughed. “He named his horse after me? Aye, that’s something Duncan would do. Ian, is your lass here?”

  “Aye, she is, Angus.”

  “Let me have a look at her.”

  Abby moved to Ian’s side and knelt down so Angus wouldn’t have to strain himself to see her. Ian took her hand and held it tightly.

  “How are you, sir?”

  Angus managed a crooked smile. “Better than I was, and that’s what matters. What’s your name?”

  “Abby.”

  “Abby, please forgive me. I meant you no harm, but that’s no excuse for scarin’ the life out of you and Mistress Alannah, who has been so kind to me.”

  He looked up at Ian. “Laddie, it gives me joy to know that Duncan is alive, and that he produced a son as brave and strong as he is.”

  Angus shifted his gaze to Ewan. “Can I have a moment alone with my son? There are things I must discuss with him.”

  Everyone but Douglas vacated the room. There was the murmur of voices behind the closed door. After a few minutes, the door opened. Douglas stood there, his face unreadable. “My father wishes for everyone to return.”

  They all filed back in. Angus sat up against the pillows. His color was slightly better than it had been when they first entered the room.

  “Ewan, I would like to draw up a peace agreement with you. Duncan did not die at the hands of Andrew Fraser or any of his men, and so, as far as the Mackenzies are concerned, the feud is over. What say you? Are you willing to enter into this truce despite 30 years of Mackenzie hatred and aggression?”

  “If you are willing to forgive 30 years of hatred and aggression on the part of the Frasers, then aye, we are willing as well. My people are tired of fighting. We were honor-bound by Andrew Fraser to continue feuding until the Mackenzies admitted we did no harm to Duncan, and such an admission has now been made.”