A Fearless Rebel (Clan Ross Book 5)

by Hildie McQueen

  “I understand,” Keithen replied.

  A strange numbness filled Ava. There were no thoughts or feelings, just an emptiness that, in a way, was welcoming.

  She walked back to the great room, grabbed a cloak from near the doorway and went outside. Once in the courtyard, she went to her horse’s stall and dug in the back where she kept a bundle of clothes. She then guided the animal out and straight to the gates.

  One of the guardsmen neared.

  “Do ye require an escort?”

  “No, I am walking about the keep with my horse. I do not plan to ride him.”

  The man shrugged. “Make sure ye stay where the guards can see ye.”

  In truth, she had no idea what to do. In the past, she’d run away when a situation became unbearable. This time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get away or not. Keithen was fighting with his sister to protect her. To leave would be a betrayal to him.

  She guided the horse along the front of the keep to one end and then back to the other. The docile horse, not at all upset at being out of the stall, enjoyed her attention.

  “Ava,” Keithen hobbled to her. “What are ye doing out here?”

  Obviously, the guard had informed him, and he’d hurried out because all he was wearing was his tunic.

  She stopped walking and studied his handsome face. He meant so much to her that she wanted to weep at his concerned expression.

  “In the past, whenever I was upset, I ran away. I almost did it this time, but knowing ye would be hurt stopped me. For the first time in my life, I have a reason not to run.”

  Keithen walked to her and lifted her face. “Why did ye come out here?”

  “I overheard ye and Esme speaking. She shot my brother.”

  “Aye, she did.”

  A frigid wind blew, and Ava shivered. “Her shot did not kill him right away. My brother would not allow healers to help and the wound festered.”

  “With everything that has happened between our clans, there will always be reasons for rifts. However, ye and I should not allow it to affect us.”

  Tears of frustration spilled down her cheeks. “Ye should have told me. There was no need to keep such a secret. Why did ye not tell me?”

  Keithen let out a breath. “Because ye have been through enough.” He took the horse’s reins from her frozen fingers. “Come inside, please. It is very cold.”

  Of course, he had to be chilled through without any protection from the wind. Ava allowed him to guide her and the horse back inside the courtyard.

  A stable man rushed to them and took the horse away as she and Keithen continued inside.

  Once inside, they walked up the stairs to the bedchamber.

  Thankfully, a cheery fire burned in the hearth and they went to stand in front of it. Keithen met her gaze. “What did ye hear?”

  Ava repeated what she’d overheard.

  “After learning she was who’d severed the rope because of her keen skills, I wondered if she’d been the one to also shoot my brother. But there were so many archers there. I am shocked to know she could get so many shots off that close together.”

  “She is without compare. Even our head archer always lost against her in competition.”

  A thought went through her, too hard to bear. Ava closed her eyes. “Did she kill my father?”

  Keithen came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling Ava against his chest. “No.”

  Sagging with relief, she stared into the flames. “I am not sure how to feel.”

  “Get some rest. We can discuss more in the morning, if ye wish. I hope that, eventually, ye and Esme will not be at odds.”

  She doubted they’d ever be cordial and certainly they’d never be friends, but Ava decided not to mention it to her husband. Alastair had died because he’d not accepted the truth of his injuries. If he’d lived, he would have never functioned properly as a man. Esme had known how to purposefully shoot him in a way to maim him forever.

  It would be impossible to see her without thinking of what she’d done.

  “From now on, we should be honest with each other,” Keithen said, his fingers under her chin. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Is there anything I should know?”

  Ava shook her head. “No. I promise.”

  Once undressed and in the bed, she waited for Keithen to join her. He was a bit slower moving, but his leg was healing, and he moved about unaided now. According to the healer, it was possible he’d have a permanent limp.

  A lifelong reminder of her actions. Being reckless and impulsive. Ava considered that if Keithen had died, then Esme was right to blame her.

  Her actions had, indeed, caused everything.

  Every instinct screamed at her to leave, to get away to somewhere where no one knew her and start over.

  Then, Keithen’s arm came around her waist and he pulled her close, her back against his chest. “Stop thinking. Everything will work out. Ye will see.”

  The glow from the fire lit the room enough that she could see. A sudden thought struck her. She’d left the bundle of clothes with the horse. If they were discovered, Keithen would know a truth about her that she’d not revealed. She should have burned the clothes. Her rebellions actions, riding out, and fighting against men, having saved Keithen a couple of times, was not something he would understand. No man wanted a wife who fought, wearing a mask and acting like some sort of renegade.

  Then again, perhaps if he recalled her saving him, he’d not mind.

  Ava let out a breath. In the morning, she’d retrieve the clothes and decide what to do.

  The sun had barely risen when Ava hurried to the stables. She walked straight to her horse’s stall and squeezed in, looking around. Her bundle of clothes was not there. She scrambled to recall the night before. She’d grabbed them before going outside the gates, which meant she could have dropped them while deciding what to do.

  Pulling her cloak tight, she hurried toward the gates and slipped out. There were several people already arriving from the village. It still struck her as strange that the clanspeople seemed to have no qualms visiting the laird on a regular basis.

  She hurried along the wall, peering down, but did not see the clothes. Perhaps they’d been taken by someone on patrol.

  Perhaps it was for the best. If the clothes were gone, there was no reason to tell Keithen about it since she had no plans to ever do any kind of sword fighting again. The only thing she’d kept was her sword, which was stored in her trunk. If it was ever found, she’d claim it had belonged to her father or brother.

  “Is the Mackenzie woman still here?” a woman asked another as they ambled to the front door. The pair was not aware she was behind them.

  Her companion huffed. “Aye, and from the looks of it, she has bewitched Keithen Fraser. Tis sickening.”

  Ava stopped walking, not wanting to be noticed by the women. Although she knew the clanspeople did not accept her, knowing and hearing it were two different things.

  Following the flight of a bird, she tracked it until it disappeared. “Ye heard them.”

  The last person she wanted to speak to at the moment was Esme Ross. Ava kept her gaze on the horizon and shrugged. “Tis not as if I did not know how most people feel.”

  “Why did ye not go live with yer mother?”

  “Because my mother left without telling me. My brother did not wish me to be there either.” At this point, Ava’s voice was loud. “My uncle would not allow me to remain unless Keithen was dead and then only if I married the new laird. Since my family killed my first husband and tried to kill Keithen, I wonder if the third would have survived unscathed.”

  When Esme’s eyebrows shot up, and she started to say something, Ava cut her off.

  “If given a choice of living elsewhere or being hated here, I would choose to remain here. I love my husband and he loves me. No matter what, I know he will always be there for me and I will die before I allow anything bad to happen to him.”

  Esme opene
d her mouth and Ava put a finger up. “No one else matters. Ye can continue to dislike me for causing what I did. There is nothing I can do about it.”

  She stormed inside, through the great room and up the steps. Once inside the bedchamber, she blew out a breath and clenched her hands into fists. Pacing from one side of the room to the other kept her from screaming with fury. Now she understood why Keithen did it. It helped.

  “I found these,” Esme said from the doorway.

  Ava whirled to find Keithen’s sister holding up the sack she’d been looking for.

  “I have no idea what that is.”

  “I planned to give them to Keithen.” Esme entered and put the sack down. “But it would be spiteful of me. He does not know, does he?”

  Ava shook her head. “No. I planned to tell him.”

  “I would not, if it were me,” Esme said and rolled her eyes. “My brother quite admires the man who has, on several occasions, interceded on his behalf. It could ruin the ‘Masked Hero’ image that the men have formed in their imaginations.”

  Despite not being comfortable with Esme, Ava considered what the woman said. “Why would ye care? Keithen would probably not believe it anyway.”

  “What would I not believe?” Keithen said, walking in and then moving directly to stand beside Ava. “Esme, what did ye do?”

  Esme met Ava’s gaze for a moment and then looked to Keithen. “That two women said hurtful things about Ava, and I chastised them for it. I told them if they continued to be disrespectful to our family, they’d not be welcome to return.”

  “My wife is right. I am not sure I believe it.”

  “Well, it is true,” Esme said, glaring at Keithen. “Ava, I apologize for being less than civil to ye.”

  Ava nodded, her gaze moving to the sack on the floor next to Esme.

  Keithen’s sister bent and lifted the bag. “I must be off to take these to the servants to launder. I plan to wear men’s trews and a tunic for the archery competition.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Although it was cold, it hadn’t snowed in days. It was a clear day and, yet, Keithen couldn’t help but find the idea of an archery competition idiotic.

  Only his sister and Ewan would consider it a good idea.

  Thankfully, the splint on his leg had finally been removed. He’d been patient and waited as long as possible. Ava had insisted he keep it on and continuously inspected his leg.

  He limped but, in his opinion, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. His wife, however, considered it a horrible outcome and massaged the leg every night. Not that he minded, as sometimes the massages turned into bedsport.

  “Are ye competing?” Esme asked, walking up to him with a grin. “The more who compete, the more I can beat.”

  Keithen could never beat his sister, yet the competition would be entertaining. “Why not?”

  Keithen looked at Esme, contemplating his next words. “Esme,” Keithen started. “What happened to change things? Ye invited Ava to the sitting room yesterday afternoon.”

  His sister pressed her lips together, considering what to say. “She has no one. I am fortunate to be able to come here and spend time with ye and our parents. Ava does not have any family to visit. Her mother prefers to keep her at arm’s distance.”

  “True. She only has me. When ye are not here, Mother does spend time with her.”

  “That is not fair.” Esme shook her head. “If I spend time with her around the clanspeople, they will be more accepting as well.”

  “Thank ye.” Keithen pulled Esme to his side. “It will help.”

  His sister shrugged. “I cannot say I will ever care for her, but I do understand her.”

  The targets were set up and spaced apart as the next competition was about to begin. Of all the archers, there were only ten left to compete. Those who were eliminated stood on the sidelines watching. Some were placing bets, others were grumbling good-naturedly about the fairness of their elimination.

  There was a festive atmosphere. Several bonfires warmed people who surrounded them. At a tent set up alongside where the archers were to stand, Keithen’s parents and his aunt and uncle, who traveled there for the occasion, relaxed while they watched the competition. Ava, Catriona and Flora sat just behind them.

  His father and uncle were having a grand time judging shots and choosing winners. They joked each time someone was eliminated, which brought laughter and ribbing between the competitors.

  At the moment, his father pointed at one archer. “I hear yer wife complains about yer marksmanship as well.”

  Everyone laughed, including the archer who called back, “Her target is quite small.” He smiled in the direction of his wife. “And I love it!”

  The next contest was to be for speed. Only five archers were to compete, including Esme, Broden and Ewan. Each was given five arrows. Whoever emptied their quiver the fastest would win.

  As the archers lined up, the crowd hushed until the only sounds were the crackling of the firewood and an occasional noise from the stables.

  The aroma of roasting pig wafted through the air and Keithen hurried to stand next to Ava, who’d jumped to her feet to get a better view.

  At the signal, the archers began to yank arrows with amazing speed, shooting one and then another into the target.

  Keithen noted that Ewan only shot twice and lifted his arms in victory. Esme whirled around to face him, her eyes wide. “How did ye do that?”

  Astonished murmurs filled the air. Everyone wanting to see Ewan demonstrate again what he’d just done.

  Once again, five arrows were put into his quiver. Ewan made a show of setting up. Feet apart, he lifted the bow. Then as quick as lightning, he shot three arrows at the same time, and then two. The arrows formed almost a perfect circle on the target.

  Everyone began to clap as he bowed, turning to face those gathered.

  “That is amazing,” Keithen said to Ava.

  She’d turned white, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

  “Ava? What is the matter?” Keithen took her arms and turned her to him. “Ye look like ye have seen the dead.”

  Pushing his hands away, she shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just recalled something. I’m going to inform Eileen who won. She wishes to make them a tart.” Turning from him, she walked toward the house.

  “Did ye see that?” Esme approached Keithen. “Where is Ava going?”

  “To the kitchen.”

  “He will have to teach me to do it.” His sister grinned. “I got second place.”

  Keithen smiled at his sister. “Ye won the first one. Give someone else a chance in the distance one.”

  Shrugging, she went to speak to her parents.

  Surrounded by archers, Ewan was enjoying the attention. Keithen went to congratulate him only to note that Broden stood aside with a pensive expression.

  “Upset that ye have not won yet?” Keithen joked. “Perhaps ye can beat Esme in the distance contest.”

  Broden motioned for him to walk away from the group nearby. “Do ye know how the first Laird Mackenzie died?”

  “Aye, shot with multiple arrows before anyone could intercept...” Keithen stopped talking and turned in the direction where Ewan was celebrating. “Do ye think?”

  “The guards said there had to be more than one archer to get away with so many shots before they could react.”

  At the realization, he turned toward the house.

  Ava had to know, which was why she’d reacted the way she had. After all, she’d been the one to help heal her father. How much more did his poor wife have to endure? Not only did Esme cause her brother’s death, but now the man who killed her father lived in the same house.

  “We will not know for sure unless we ask him,” Keithen said. “Why would he kill Laird Mackenzie? It makes little sense. Ewan just recently moved to this region. As far as I know, Clan Ross had no qualms with the Mackenzie.”

  Broden gave him a knowing look. “There are circumstances that
make a man do dangerous things.” His friend motioned toward Ewan.

  While accepting congratulations from his father and uncle for winning, Ewan kept turning in Catriona’s direction, his gaze lingering on her before turning back to the laird.

  “He’d only just arrived when Laird Mackenzie died. I doubt he’d even met Catriona then.”

  “It could be,” Broden said, “there is another reason. Ye may want to speak to him and find out if what we suppose is true.”

  Someone called out for those competing to gather and Broden left. Keithen wasn’t sure what to think. Even if Ewan was the man that shot the laird, whatever his reason, it didn’t matter at this point.

  A new laird was in place and life had continued. Perhaps Ava suspected that Ewan may have killed her father, however, there was no proof, other than him being an extraordinarily fast archer.

  Just as he headed to the house, Ava emerged. She looked to him with a soft expression.

  “The distance competition is about to begin,” Keithen told her and held out a hand. “I am curious to see if Broden will beat Esme.”

  Ava took his hand and they headed toward the tent. “I am quite impressed by Esme. She is better than most of the men.”

  Her color had returned, and she seemed normal. As much as Keithen wanted to ask how she felt, it was best to wait until they were alone. “Esme has always been an outstanding archer. Her vision is clear and her hold is quite steady.”

  His wife nodded and then scanned the target practice area. There was a flicker, a slight narrowing of her eyes when looking to where Ewan took his place.

  All was not well. Just as he’d thought, Ava was suspicious of Ewan.

  ***

  After a day of competition and feasting, Keithen was more than glad to have time alone with Ava in their bedchamber. He undressed and slipped into bed next to her and pulled his wife onto his chest.

  “Did ye enjoy the day?”

  She nodded. “I did. It was a good change. I believe we all needed a day outdoors.”