Redemption (Book Two of the Shipwrecked Series)

by Jenna Stone

  Quinn watched the battle unfold from where he was tethered to the tree. He was stiff from being restrained for so long and his arm and chest throbbed in pain.

  So, it was to be the Cherokee that finished him off, not the English. This was a most unlikely turn of events.

  Utilizing the last few moments of his life in the best way that he knew how, he thought of Sarah. He focused on her beautiful face, her alluring smile and he felt joy bloom within his heart. He tried to remember the smell of her hair and the graceful curve of her breast. He closed his eyes as he remembered the love that had overwhelmed him when they had made love for the first time. He would die a blessed, lucky man.

  Not all men could say with honesty that they had experienced the joy that love could bring. Quinn counted his blessings that he had loved and been loved in return by two distinctly wonderful women.

  Sarah. He whispered her name aloud and focused his mind on her in the darkness. If he only had a few moments left to live, he would spend every last second thinking of her. He sent thoughts of love to her, hoping that they would find their way over the mountains and through the dark night and settle on her soul.

  He said goodbye to her. He told her that he was sorry.

  A hand fisted in Quinn’s hair and jerked his head upright. This was it. Quinn was prepared to die and his soul was lightened, ready. His heart was filled with love for his wife. He raised his eyes defiantly to meet those of his killer.

  They recognized each other in the same instant.

  Adahy.

  Adahy released Quinn’s hair and smiled broadly.

  “Uzumati!” he exclaimed in surprise, using the Cherokee name for Grizzly bear as he nodded in recognition Quinn.

  “Aye,” Quinn said, relief flooding his senses. Never had he dreamed that he would be happy to see Adahy.

  “Uzumati…uzumati good,” Adahy stammered as he racked his brain, searching for the English words that he wanted to say to Quinn.

  Quinn knitted his eyebrows together, unable to understand what Adahy was trying to say to him.

  The bear was good?

  Adahy abandoned searching for the right words and turned to the universal form of communication. Hand gestures. He pointed to his abdomen and used his hand to illustrate a rounded, pregnant belly.

  “Inola,” he said and nodded enthusiastically. “Uzumati!” he added for good measure in an effort to explain that Quinn’s gift of the grizzly bear had resulted in his wife becoming pregnant.

  “Aye?” Quinn said, smiling.

  Adahy nodded firmly, and reached behind Quinn, cutting the ropes that bound him to the tree. He covered Quinn’s hands with his own and bowed his head over them.

  He was thanking Quinn for the bear, which he believed had yielded the baby that grew in Inola’s womb.

  Adahy leaned back on his heels and studied Quinn intently.

  “Sarah?” he asked, eyes showing genuine concern.

  “Sarah is good. She’s fine. The baby’s fine too,” Quinn added, mimicking rocking a baby so that Adahy would understand the meaning of his words.

  Adahy nodded in approval.

  “Sarah,” Adahy said firmly as he pointed through the trees in the direction of the Murray homestead. His eyes flashed to Quinn and he pointed again, this time more adamantly.

  “Aye. I’ll go to Sarah. Thank ye,” Quinn said, understanding the meaning of Adahy’s gestures. Adahy was freeing him so that he could go home to Sarah.

  Mimicking Adahy’s gesture of gratitude, Quinn captured the small man’s hands in his own and slowly bowed his head over their clasped hands in thanks.

  “Thank ye,” he whispered.

  Their eyes locked for an instant. Adahy gestured with a flick of his head that Quinn should go now. Quinn stood, and his muscles cried out in protest as he walked shakily into the cover of the trees, leaving Adahy and the savages to avenge the deaths of their fallen Cherokee brothers.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn hesitated outside the door of his small cabin, his fingers resting on the handle of the heavy wooden door. The moonlit sky illuminated the night, casting a silver glow on the puffs of breath that escaped from Quinn’s lips. He released his breath slowly in a large billowy cloud and sent a quick prayer of gratitude heavenward.

  He had never expected to come home again.

  His pulse quickened when he clasped the door handle.

  How could he ever explain himself to Sarah?

  Swallowing hard, he opened the door and crossed the threshold. The small cabin was dark save for the remnants of the fire burning in the hearth.

  Quinn felt the distinct blooming of love overwhelm his senses when he looked at his girls. Mairi was nestled in her box beside the bed. She lay on her back with her arms stretched out over her head. Her lips were slightly parted, and Quinn smiled when he watched them move suddenly as if she was nursing in her sleep.

  His eyes darted to Sarah, who was fast asleep in his bed. A rush of feelings overtook him as he watched her. Love swelled up within him as his eyes scanned her beautiful face in the firelight. He would devote his life to loving her and keeping her happy.

  Sarah was the greatest and most unexpected gift of his life.

  Stepping quietly out of his boots and stripping out of his clothes, Quinn lifted the covers and settled his body against his wife’s.

  “Sarah,” he whispered anxiously against her ear as he stroked her long black hair. She had every right to be angry with him and Quinn prepared himself to feel the bite of her scorn. His body however, had different ideas. He gritted his teeth as he felt himself beginning to become aroused. Lying next to his beautiful naked wife, whether she was angry with him or not, was simply more than he could stand.

  Sarah turned in her sleep and snuggled up against his chest. Quinn fitted his arms around her and whispered her name again.

  Her eyes flew open and a smile spread over her lovely face when she realized that Quinn was in bed with her.

  “I’m mad at you,” she said sternly as she forced the smile from her face.

  “I had a notion that ye might be,” Quinn said, chuckling softly as he watched Sarah fight the urge to touch him. “Leaving ye and going after Murdock was the most difficult decision of my life,” Quinn revealed. “Please doona stay mad at me for long because I couldna bear it,” he said as he kissed Sarah gently on the neck.

  Feeling Quinn’s lips against her skin caused gooseflesh to break out across Sarah’s her body. His lightest touch could cause such a reaction.

  “I was so worried about you! Rowan told me more about what Murdock had done. Quinn, I thought that you might be killed!” Sarah said, the cadence of her voice speeding up as she voiced her fears aloud.

  “But, I wasna killed and I’m here with ye now. Thank God,” he said huskily as he kissed a trail up Sarah’s graceful neck.

  Shivers ran down the length of Sarah’s spine in response to her husband’s touch. It was growing very difficult to stay mad at him when she wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

  “I had tae settle the score with Murdock. I ken that it was wrong tae leave ye, but this was something that I had tae see through. I had tae see that the bastard was sent straight tae hell for Mairi’s sake and for my own. When I saw him again, I kent that Mairi’s soul couldna rest in peace for so long as he walked the Earth. I also kent that I couldna lay the horrors of my past tae rest as long as he was living still.”

  Quinn dropped his forehead to Sarah’s. He closed his eyes for a moment and collected his thoughts.

  “I beg ye for forgiveness, Sarah. Leaving ye was torture. I had tae take care of Murdock sae that I could move forward and build my life with ye. I’m begging ye tae understand that this was something that I had tae do,” Quinn said, his gray eyes imploring Sarah for forgiveness.

  Sarah’s anger dissipated and her final defenses crumbled as she looked at her husband. She could not begrudge him this act. Avenging Mairi’s death had lifted the last shadow of pain from Quinn’s s
oul. He was free now.

  “I forgive you,” Sarah whispered, her heart aching for Quinn. “I understand,” she added as she stroked his face. “Good Lord! What happened?” she exclaimed, feeling Quinn’s bruises and cuts as her fingers explored the terrain of his bloodied face.

  Her eyes struggled to focus in the firelight, but even in such dim light, they had seen enough.

  “I’m fine,” Quinn scoffed. “It’s probably for the best that it’s dark in here,” he chuckled, knowing that his injuries would be far worse looking in the light.

  “Who did this to you?” Sarah demanded as her fingers explored the myriad of cuts and bruises that marred her husband’s face.

  “It could have been much worse,” Quinn said, knowing full well that he had almost lost his life seeking revenge against Murdock. “The English did this tae me, but it’s none sae bad as it could have been.”

  “Let me get a cloth to clean you up! I need to see what they did to you!” Sarah said as she tried to push up from the bed.

  “Nay, lass. I’ll be fine till morning. The damage has been done,” he said in protest, pressing Sarah gently back against the feather bed. “What I need right now is my lovely wife. For she is better than any medicine…” he said, trailing off as he kissed Sarah lightly on the lips.

  Sarah wrapped her arms around Quinn’s shoulders and kissed him back. The overwhelming love that she felt for him was perceptible in her ravenous kiss. Her love matched his own.

  Quinn pulled away from his wife slightly.

  Sarah smiled up at him in the darkness, her heart blooming with love and relief at her husband’s safe return. The depth of the love and happiness that Sarah saw in Quinn’s gray eyes astonished her.

  “As it turns out, it was yer past that saved my future,” Quinn said softly as he stroked Sarah’s cheek.

  Sarah’s dark eyebrows scrunched together as she regarded her husband.

  “Adahy saved me from the English. I would have died if it were no for him,” Quinn confessed. He watched how the gravity of his words affected Sarah.

  Sarah blinked in disbelief. Her life had certainly come full circle. The man that she had hated above all others, the man that had raped her and threatened to steal her child from her had saved Quinn’s life.

  Adahy had given her two unexpected gifts. He had given her a beautiful daughter. And he had given her the gift of Quinn’s life.

  “Kiss me,” Sarah demanded, reaching up and pulling Quinn’s face towards her own.

  “Gladly,” he drawled as he began to lower his lips to Sarah’s. Halting just a breath away from kissing her, Quinn froze. “I love ye sae much, Sarah Murray,” he whispered, smiling down at his wife. Her black hair was spread wildly around her on the white linen sheet and the fire cast a lovely glow on her olive skin. Quinn’s heart felt as though it would burst with happiness as he looked at Sarah now. She was all that he had longed for, all that he had ever wanted.

  Sarah smiled radiantly. “I love you too,” she said and she placed one hand on either side of her husband’s handsome face. “Don’t make me beg, Quinn Murray,” she said teasingly. “If you don’t kiss me properly, I think that I might go insane.”

  “We canna have that now can we?” Quinn teased as he claimed Sarah’s lips in an all consuming, possessive kiss. “I’m sure that keeping ye sane is an essential part of ensuring yer happiness, something that I’ve pledged my life tae do.”

  “Aye, it is,” Sarah smiled as she brought Quinn’s lips to her own. “And I am pleased that my husband has become such a happy man,” Sarah approvingly. “And it will be my life’s ambition to keep him that way,” she promised as Quinn’s lips settled upon her own and they sealed their pact with a kiss.

  ..ooOoo..

  Thank you for reading Redemption! I expect that the final book in the Shipwrecked Series will be completed by summer of 2013. This book will tell Malcolm’s story, a story that I’m really looking forward to telling J

  If you’ve enjoyed Redemption, please consider reading one of my other novels. I’ve attached a sample from The Imposter, which is my personal favorite of all of the books that I have written.

  Happy Reading!

  Jenna Stone

  The Imposter

  http://www.amazon.com/The-Imposter-ebook/dp/B009WQ4OUU/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1358483129&sr=8-12&keywords=the+imposter

  The Handfasting (a novella)

  http://www.amazon.com/The-Handfasting-ebook/dp/B00APPO6KU/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1

  Shipwrecked (Book One in the Shipwrecked Series)

  http://www.amazon.com/Shipwrecked-Book-One-Series-ebook/dp/B009S89D94/ref=pd_sim_kstore_6

  The Imposter (Sample Chapters)

  Chapter One

  My choices were dismal. Forced marriage to a man twice my age or plunge to almost certain death in the icy water. I stood on the bow of the ship clad only in my shift, starting out at where the moonlit sky met the thunderous waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

  No man will choose my fate. I am mine.

  The frigid water took my breath away. Breathe. Breathe!

  My muscles rebelled. For a moment I thought that death might win out. My powerful legs kicked to the surface, and I sputtered as I searched for the reference point of land. The swim to shore took every ounce of my courage and strength, but I arrived on shore a free woman.

  ***

  I awoke in the early hours of dawn, chilled to the bone and immediately on edge.

  I need to move before they find me. I can never let them find me.

  I surveyed the remnants of my shift. The ocean had shredded its light gossamer fabric. I felt every pine needle and rock that I had slept on, each having made a painful imprint in the gooseflesh that covered my body. The forest was quiet now save for the early morning chirping of a few birds.

  So, this is Scotland. Land of the bloodthirsty barbarians.

  I remembered the words that my father had used to describe the land that was to be my new home. Rugged, beautiful, and filled with bloodthirsty barbarians. His words echoed in my head, and a chill ran the length of my spine as I surveyed the vacant forest.

  My alabaster skin reminded me of that of a ghost, standing out in stark contrast to the dark soil of the forest floor. I ran my fingers across my skin assuring myself of my bodily strength. Although I found myself in quite a predicament, I knew that my lithe body was fit and strong enough to carry me to salvation. Fate had put me here and my stomach twisted with excitement to find out why.

  ***

  I carefully rose to my feet, steadying myself with the help of a nearby fir tree. The bark was rough against my skin. I rested my cheek against its moss covered surface, giving my chilled, aching limbs a moment to adjust to the weight of my body.

  “Ok, Kate…think!” I said out loud, willing myself to choose a course of action. In answer, the wood smoke caught my senses. If there was a campfire surely there would be people. I could watch them from afar and weigh my options. If I stayed hidden, I could gauge if it would be safe to reveal myself to them.

  I set off in the direction of the smoke. My bare feet made slow and painful progress, crunching the pine needles on the forest floor. I raked my hand through my long auburn hair which was littered with the remnants of sticks and moss from last night’s restless slumber. I carelessly pulled them from my hair as I walked, then gathered my thick waves at the crown of my head and secured the pony tail with a knot. The wood smoke was growing stronger, tickling my nostrils, and I was encouraged that I was heading in the right direction as I trudged onward through the trees. Walking had forced some warmth back into my body, and the involuntary chattering of my teeth had finally stopped.

  “Ouch!” I exclaimed as yet another sharp rock broke the skin on the bottom of my foot. I balanced on one leg and examined the foot in question, stained nearly black from walking through mud and twigs. I scanned the dense forest and continued my slow pursuit of the smoke.

  The trees became sparse and I found myself standing on a prim
itive road. I mentally congratulated myself on finding such a swift path to salvation, knowing that roads led to people. I was quite overjoyed with my discovery of the road and suddenly the fact that I was nearly naked brought me crashing back to reality. I decided to follow the road, but for safety’s sake, and to preserve my last shreds of modesty, I committed to walk in the trees just off the road. When I came around the first bend in the road, I stopped dead in my tracks. I had found the source of the fire.

  ***

  My pulse hammered in my ears as I frantically tried to make sense of the scene before me. Shock was an understatement. I surveyed the nightmare before me, frozen in place, having never seen such horror as what lie before me in the road.

  My eyes darted nervously over the blood pooling around the three bodies that were crumpled next to a horse drawn coach. These people had been brutally slain and my eyes focused on the man first, crumpled in a final pose of anguish, eyes glazed and fixated on an object that I knew was not there. Fight or flight. My brain fought the impulse of telling my body to run. I stood fast.

  The women lay where they had fallen next to the coach. The coach looked strange with no horses attached to the front end, and the loose leather straps swayed in the chilling breeze. The younger woman appeared to be in her twenties, and the other, more plump appeared to be a bit older. The remnants of the fire that had drawn me here burned a few feet away from their bodies.

  My trembling legs reluctantly carried me closer to the coach, and I peered down at the young woman. Her dark hair had been ripped from its pins, and purple bruises stained the skin of her face and neck. She had fought like hell for her life, as was evidenced by the defense wounds on her lower arms and the blood beneath her broken nails. Blood stained the front of her dress, and had collected in a pool near the fatal gash to her neck.

  I had never seen this amount of blood before. To see such a violent scene, such a young woman killed so brutally made bile rise, burning my throat. I took deep breaths, willing myself not to be sick. I felt my body temperature quickly peak. I was neatly sick in a grassy patch next to the young woman. I promptly turned away from her, embarrassed at the poor control of my stomach.