Highlander's Challenge

by Jo Barrett

“Fine. But this isn’t over,” she hissed.

  “I dinnae dare have a hope.”

  Thankful to see she would not fight him, unnecessarily risking her life, he dragged her to his horse. He placed one hand around her wrist and stilled at her sharp hiss of breath.

  He gently slid his grip up her arm and examined her hand in the dim light. “What have you done to yourself, you daft woman?”

  A small sense of relief eased some of the tension from his neck. He was afraid, for a brief moment, that he’d been the one to hurt her with his rough handling, but he’d not touched her wrist until now.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” She moved to jerk free of his grasp, but instantly stiffened. With her eyes clamped shut, the grim press of her lips, there was no doubt she was in pain.

  “Maighread will look at it once we return,” he said.

  “The hell she will,” she said, her tone venomous.

  “For the love of—! Bloody nettlesome shrew,” he finished on a murmur.

  “Overbearing ogre.”

  He clamped his hands around her waist and hoisted her onto his horse before their asinine relay could continue any further then seated himself behind her.

  He set his teeth at the feel of her legs brushing against his, her backside nestled between his thighs. His arms wanted to close in around her and pull her back against his chest, while his lips wished to seek out the side of her neck and taste her fair skin. Luckily, she wore her knit cap, her hair carefully secured beneath, or else his nose would surely find its way into the curls, exploring their scent and texture.

  Stifling his groan, he kneed his horse on. As they moved toward the castle, she settled against him, seemingly comfortable while he was aching in the worst possible way imaginable.

  “You realize that if those men aren’t MacKenzies then there’s something fishy going on around here,” she said.

  “Fishy?” he asked, hiding, as best he could, his continued annoyance at her use of words he did not understand.

  “You know, suspicious, underhanded, sneaky.” She turned slightly, displaying her profile, her chin tilted high into the air. “Untoward,” she added haughtily.

  He refused to allow himself to smile at her playfulness, but the lass had a point, blast her hide. “‘Tis none of your concern.”

  She twisted to look him in the eye. “Of all the—I hand you those two lowlifes on a silver platter and that’s the thanks I get?”

  “Cease your prattle, woman.” He jerked her back around, unwilling to test his willpower with her lips so close to his. He’d gone daft, to be sure.

  “The name is Tuck,” she growled.

  He swallowed hard against the sensual rumble. What sin had he committed to deserve such torment? He could not possibly want this irritating female!

  “You just can’t stand it that I escaped and caught those two.”

  “What I canna stand is a woman who doesna know her place.”

  “Oh, I know my place, all right. And it sure as hell isn’t here.”

  He snapped his jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of his tongue. He despised the truth in her words. She did not belong with him or to him. His life, his clan’s future, did not include a woman who had more grit than some men he knew, and who constantly refused to behave as she ought. He still knew little to nothing about her. She could be in league with his enemies, although he wanted to believe otherwise.

  Once they arrived at the castle, he pulled her down from his horse. Taking her by her uninjured hand, he firmly guided her to her room. He discounted how perfectly her long slender fingers wrapped around his. She was not to be his.

  “Sit,” he said, pointing to the bed.

  She tilted her chin and propped her hand on her hip, blatantly disobeying him.

  “By the saints, you’re a stubborn woman.”

  He turned to the door and ordered one of his men to bring him some cloth to bind her with. Her eyes widened, and he quickly realized what she thought he intended to do. He almost smiled.

  She slowly edged away. “If you think I’m going to let you tie me up, you’ve got one seriously rude awakening coming, buster.”

  “You’re in my keep and on my land. I’ll do what I like with you, and there’s no one tae stop me.”

  “I’ll stop you.”

  He chuckled. “I know your tricks, lass, and you’ll not be using them on me. I’ll not give you the chance tae catch me unawares.”

  Michael appeared with an armful of rags and Elspeth on his heels. She bustled up in front of him, placing her round body between him and his female tormentor.

  “I’ll not stand by and let you harm the lass, Colin. I’ve put up with your bad manners, but you’ll not touch a hair on her head.”

  He gently took her by the shoulders and placed her in Michael’s care, then snatched the rags from his guard’s hands.

  “I’ll not do anything she doesna deserve. Now, off with you, Aunt. I’ve work tae do here.” With his back to the woman, he gave Elspeth a wink.

  She sputtered and blustered a moment, her gaze darting back and forth between them. Eventually, she allowed Michael to take her out of the room.

  The door closed with a solid thud, echoed by his guest’s small squeak of disbelief.

  “Will you sit, or do I have tae use force?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’d lose.”

  Oh, but she was a fiery female. He had to admire her spirit, her determination, but it was based on such utter codswallop. She had no chance against him. She had to see that.

  He took one step in her direction, and she shifted into a defensive stance. Her weight properly balanced on both feet, her hands in an odd, but obvious fighting position. The woman was fully prepared to stop him whatever the cost.

  He ran a hand down his face, exhausted with this game. “I only wish tae bind your injured wrist, you taupie. Now, sit down!”

  “Oh.” Relaxing her stance, she straightened. “I prefer to stand, thanks just the same.” Turning away, she removed her odd coat and laid it in the chair.

  With a sigh, he crossed to her and gently took her hand. “It doesna look bad. ‘Tis only sprained, I’m thinking.”

  “Gee thanks, Doc. I’m so relieved,” she said flatly.

  He shook his head and tossed most of the rags aside. “You’re a mouthy woman who doesna know when ‘tis wise tae watch your tongue. You wear my patience thin.” He wrapped her wrist, and did his best not to think of the skin he was touching, but on the task he was performing.

  “Oh, poor baby,” she mewled snidely. “Like I asked to be here. You should’ve let me alone. I was fine out there. It’s not like I haven’t roughed it before.”

  “You’re a madwoman, tae be sure. Are you not afraid of the beasties that roam the wood? ‘Tis said lassies are their favorite.”

  She snorted. “Right. Tell me another one. The only beastie I know is you. I want out of here, MacLean. And I want out now.”

  His head snapped up from his chore. “You’ll not leave the keep for any reason. Not until I learn who you intended tae meet in the wood.”

  He wanted to trust her, but didn’t dare. Although she’d been good to Ian, had handed him two men who didn’t belong on MacLean soil when she could’ve escaped, it may have all been planned to gain his trust. But he prayed it was not so.

  “You’re so off, it isn’t even funny,” she snapped.

  He gripped her shoulders firmly. “Where were you going? Why were you traveling dressed as a mon? The truth, damn you, or I’ll put you in the dungeon with the others.”

  “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the butt. How many times have I got to tell you? I don’t have anything to do with your stupid little war. I don’t know the MacKenzies. I don’t know those two jerks downstairs, and I happen to like my clothes!”

  He dropped his hands to his sides. “You will stay. You have no choice.”

  She tilted up her chin. “We’ll see about that.”

  �
��Dinnae test me further, woman. You wouldna like the outcome.” He turned and marched to the door. “And dinnae leave this chamber again wearing those bleedin’ trews,” he bellowed as he slammed the door closed.

  Chapter Eight

  Tuck awoke with Colin on her mind. It would’ve helped if he’d been an ogre for real. But he had tended Tuck’s wrist with the gentlest of touches. And since he could’ve thrown her in the dungeon and forgotten all about her, he’d proven himself to be a compassionate man. A trait she had little experience with in men. And he was strong, virile, handsome, honest—there was little she could fault him for. She had to admit it to herself. He was irritating because she was attracted to him.

  Sick of dwelling on thoughts of him, Tuck tended Ian’s shoulder and made a trip or two to the garderobe, all with a guard on her heels. She considered escaping again, but it wouldn’t be nearly as easy as before. They’d posted a guard beneath Ian’s window, and her sprained wrist didn’t allow for much in the way of scaling walls. Not to mention, she wasn’t too sure where to go. Since the field was a bust, she had no idea how to get back to Jenny.

  She tried to keep herself busy, but there wasn’t much to do for Ian as he spent the majority of the day sleeping off his liquid painkiller. Checking on him, however, was better than sitting around doing nothing. That’s when her brain took more of those dangerous little side roads involving a certain irritating Highlander.

  Elspeth visited, tsking about Colin’s manners. She checked to make sure Tuck’s wrist was bound properly, and to deliver the repeated order from his high-and-nastiness that she was to wear a dress.

  “What is his hang-up with women in pants?” she asked.

  “‘Tis not seemly tae be wearing men’s trews,” Elspeth explained. “Have you not noticed the looks the men give you?” She grinned mischievously.

  “Uh, no. What kind of looks?”

  “With your legs so clearly displayed, what do you think?”

  “Oh. Well, I’m still not putting that thing back on. It’s too…drafty,” she said, waggling her hand in the air.

  “Well, you do as you like, lass. I’ll not ask you tae put the dress on, although it does look fine on you. You would almost think ‘twas made for you.” Elspeth slipped out the door with a distinctive twinkle in her eye.

  Tuck shook her head as she examined the outfit the scheming little Scot had laid on the bed. She couldn’t possibly look good in all that frilly stuff, regardless of what Elspeth thought. She had enough unpleasant memories on that score. Dressed up like a Barbie doll on steroids got her nothing but snickers when she was a teenager and a backhanded slap from her father. She clenched her teeth against the twinge somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.

  Nothing had changed. Just because she was in a different time didn’t mean she could pass for a regular woman. The men looked at her because their medieval mentality didn’t know what to make of a woman in pants, not because it got them all hot and bothered. Nobody ever got that way around Amelia Tucker.

  Her finger slid along the bed until it touched the dress. Some of the outfit wasn’t so bad, though. The shift was actually kind of nice, comfortable. She eyed the door, then quickly shed her clothes and slipped it on.

  “Ah, freedom.” It was a lot like the men’s shirts she wore at home. Women’s nightgowns were hard to find in her size that weren’t frou-frou’d to the hilt, so whenever she happened across some men’s extra large tee shirts on sale she grabbed them up. It wasn’t a sexy look, by any means, but it wasn’t as if anyone would ever see her.

  Moving to the center of the chamber wearing only the shift and her panties, she began her Tai Chi exercises, relishing the unbound comfort.

  There was a soft scratch at the door.

  “Come in,” she called on an exhale.

  Fiona’s dark head peered in through the crack, her gaze darting around the room.

  Tuck waved her in as she followed through on another movement.

  The girl hurried across the chamber and set a bowl of warm water on the table as she’d done the previous evening for her use. It wasn’t much as a bath went, but Tuck figured she couldn’t be too picky considering where she was.

  The girl’s skirt quivered with her trembling as she laid a small towel alongside the basin.

  Having had about all she could stand, Tuck dropped her arms. “Okay, that’s it. I don’t know what the deal is or why you’re so afraid of me, but I am not going to hurt you. How many times do I have to say it?”

  The girl darted for the door, her trembling hand groping for the latch.

  Sitting down on the bed, Tuck tried her best not to look intimidating. But it wasn’t easy considering she was almost twice the girl’s size. When she’d learned Fiona was only eighteen, she’d been more than surprised. She was so small and petite, she barely looked older than twelve.

  Tuck blew out a puff of air. “I haven’t hurt Ian, have I? And Elspeth isn’t afraid of me. I haven’t done anything that I know of to make anyone afraid of me,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, okay, so I bonked one guard on the head, but he’s fine now, right?”

  The girl eased away from the door, her dainty brows pulled together.

  Tuck took that small bit of progress and ran with it. “Look, just because MacLean is mad at me and put me under house arrest, isn’t a reason to fear me. He’s just not used to women who show him up.” She grinned cockily.

  Fiona opened her mouth to say something then shook her head, apparently not understanding.

  Tuck whispered conspiratorially, “He can’t stand the fact that I saved his butt then slipped out right under his nose.”

  The girl’s eyes widened, and she took a step closer. “Then ‘tis true. You are a warrior. But how is that possible, unless…” She jumped back to the door, her hand blindly searching for the handle. “You must be a kelpie or a witch,” she said with choked horror.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Uh-uh. I’m not a witch or a kelpie.” She didn’t even know what a kelpie was. “I’m just a woman who knows how to fight. That’s all. I swear,” she said, holding up her injured hand. “See, I can even get hurt. Kelpies can’t get hurt.” At least she assumed they couldn’t. What the heck did she know about this fairy stuff? “Look, Fiona. Here’s what happened.”

  Tuck explained the events of her first encounter with MacLean as if she were telling a child a bedtime story, making sure not to make any sudden moves, and definitely avoided mentioning time travel.

  As the girl relaxed, she added her little foray into the woods, meeting up with the two spies, and why she was currently under guard. “So, you see I’m not a supernatural being. Just a woman who has some uncommon fighting skills that got a little off course. That’s all.”

  Fiona’s heart-shaped face slowly brightened and the fear disappeared from her eyes. “Elspeth tried tae tell me, but I wouldna believe her. You are different, verra different, but you’re no kelpie.” She shook her head, her long dark hair shifting perfectly over her shoulders as she moved closer. “I should’ve known better than tae listen tae Maighread and her tales.”

  Tuck’s mouth pulled tight. “Maighread. I should’ve guessed.” Still worried about her as competition, the woman had cooked up a bunch of horror stories to keep the locals in line. “What a bitch.”

  Fiona gasped then giggled behind her hand. “Aye, she can be that.”

  She sighed. “Well, at least now you know that I’m no threat. To you or anyone else.”

  “But you are.” She sat down on the opposite side of the bed. “Maighread has loved Colin since she was a bairn. She’s not one tae have as an enemy.”

  Tuck’s gut pinched sharply. She must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with her. She wasn’t jealous. Really. “Well, whoopee for her.”

  The girl grinned, her eyes alight with more wisdom than she should have for her age. “‘Tis in the way he looks at you, that has her pea green.”

  Tuck snorted. “Yeah, right. If looks could kill, I’d be
long gone.”

  “For one so auld, you dinnae know men verra well.”

  “Great. Just what I need. Advice from an adolescent,” she muttered. “Well, thanks for the info, Fiona. But I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about Maighread. I can take care of myself. I’m just glad we got this straightened out. And I’m not that old,” she added over her shoulder as she returned to her exercises. She wasn’t even thirty yet.

  “Nay, you dinnae understand. Colin doesna want Maighread, but she’ll not stop trying tae snare him.”

  Tuck’s heart did a happy dance to rival the most complicated military drill, dang it. Idly fingering the edge of her shift, she placed one knee on the bed, knowing full well she shouldn’t ask. “You say he doesn’t want Maighread?”

  She shook her head. “Nay.”

  “Well, um, too bad for her. She’ll get over it.” Determined to change the topic before she started jumping for joy like a stark raving lunatic, she asked, “So, what is a kelpie, anyway?”

  “‘Tis a water sprite.”

  Wonderful, back to water sprites again. “What’s so bad about a water sprite? I thought they were the good guys.”

  “Ach, no. They’re devils that take pleasure in drowning their victims. But…” Fiona leaned closer. “…now, that I look at you, you dinnae have the eyes. Your skin ‘tis fair, but your eyes are green. Not blue.”

  “Did Maighread give any reason as to how she knew I was a kelpie?”

  “Your trews were wet when you arrived, and ‘tis said you were not near water when Colin found you.”

  “Just to set the record straight, he didn’t find me. I found him. Anyway, Fiona, I’m glad we had this little talk. But don’t say anything to Maighread. I’ll deal with that little problem myself, okay?” She winked then moved back into the first position of her exercises.

  Fiona’s smile widened. “I’ll not be speakin’ a word. I swear it.” She rose from the edge of the bed and went to the door, then stopped. “Those motions you make. Are they part of your training? Like the men do in the lists?”

  “In a way.”

  Fiona glanced at the door and lowered her voice. “Could you teach me? Tae fight like you?”