Highland Song

by Young, Christine

  Leather snapped against leather as Slade tied off his horse's cinch with smooth strong motions.

  "Josie was a different situation," Slade said finally. "Lainie isn't the same kind of woman."

  "Oh, I don't think so. Sure, she is feisty and smart, Her hair is pure spun silk, and her eyes are as clear a blue as the most beautiful loch on a hot summer day but--"

  "That's not what I'm talking about," Slade interrupted curtly. "She's done things Josie would never do."

  "You remind me of a man who is backed into a corner and doesn't know which way to move so he can save himself." Amusement rippled plainly in Stephan's voice voice.

  Slade grunted.

  Laughing aloud, Stephan settled a packsaddle onto a wiry little pony that snorted and shook his long mane in objection to the added weight.

  Another pony stood patiently beside the first. The two animals looked amazingly alike. It was hard to tell them apart. The ponies seemed inseparable. Even inside the barn, where one went the other followed.

  "You protest too much and make excuses where none are needed," Stephan continued cheerfully. "You'll come around though. Smart men know when something good has wandered into their life. Lainie is good for you."

  Slade acted as though he hadn't heard.

  "Listen to what I've said," Stephan said. "Whatever you think you have now isn't worth giving up a good woman for."

  Slade smacked his horse on its warm haunch.

  "Stand on your own feet, Baby," he muttered. "Mine have their work cut out as it is."

  "She’s good with babies," Stephan pointed out.

  "No," Slade said curtly. "Stop trying to play matchmaker. It isn't going to work."

  "If you didn't like watching her with Robby why couldn’t you stop yourself from looking?"

  "Damn it Stephan, mind your own business. There is no woman worth changing your life for."

  "Then tell me what you want with her," Stephan urged him. "You've got some major thinking to do. You aren't going to let Bertram have her. So what are you going to do with her?"

  Slade swore beneath his breath. He ducked under his horse's neck and went to the last horse in line. "She was Bertram's fancy piece. I don't take leftovers."

  "You sure of that?" he asked. "She hates Bertram. I doubt if she was ever his mistress."

  Now the two men were working so closely they were all but stepping on each other, which made it harder for Slade to ignore Stephan's low, casual voice. Working quickly, as though anxious to be on the trail, Slade curried the pony with muscular sweeps of his arm.

  Just as Lainie thought it would be safe to walk into the lantern's ring of light, Stephan started speaking again.

  "Josie likes Lainie. The baby seemed to like her too. Every other stranger that tried to hold him he bellowed like a bull."

  Slade froze with the brush just above the pony's barrel. The pony snorted and nudged him, wanting more of the currying.

  "She is bright and she is spirited," Stephan said. He laughed softly. "She will be a real handful, and that's a fact. She'll keep you wondering what whirlwind you got caught up inside."

  "Lainie's horse?” Slade muttered as if too himself. “Maybe I better give her one of the ponies to ride."

  Stephan's grin flashed. "She'd run circles around most men. But you're not most men. She's special, Slade. She's a match for you that will keep you going day and night."

  "I'm not looking for a match--day or night."

  Stephan chuckled. "But you found one now didn't you? And Lainie's about to teach you a whole lot more."

  "Lainie isn't like Josie if that's what you're getting at," Slade said, his voice cold.

  "That's it friend. The harder you fight the faster that silken rope around your neck is going to tighten. If you don’t take heed, it’s going to hang you."

  Slade said something brutal under his breath.

  "Fighting your feelings won't do you any good," Stephan said. "But then no man worth his salt ever gives up without a fight. She’s worth fighting for just don’t take too long to figure that out."

  With a hissed curse, Slade turned and faced Stephan.

  "I should be whipped for bringing Lainie into my sister's house," Slade said flatly.

  A chill swept down Lainie's spine. She knew what Slade thought about her and what he'd be saying next. She didn't want to hear it. Nothing she'd told them last night had changed Slade's mind. He hadn't believed her.

  And she didn't want anyone to catch her eavesdropping even though it had not been her intent. She began walking backwards as silently as she could, praying she would make no sound that would alert the men to her presence there.

  "You asked me how I met Lainie, and I wasn't completely honest with you," Slade said. "I met her in that tavern in Ary stealing sealed papers from the table I'd set them on."

  "You told me that."

  "And that same night, she stole gold coin and anything valuable she could get her nimble fingers on. That's the part I didn't tell you."

  Stephan's smile vanished. "She isn't a thief."

  "Just because you want to ignore what is as plain as day, doesn't mean I will. You heard me. She was stealing whatever she could get her hands on. Jericho was there and he was looking for her."

  Slade stopped talking.

  "And," Stephan prodded.

  "I let her do what she does best."

  The only sound the next minute was a soft whisper of the wind around the yard.

  "Tell me the rest of it," Stephan said finally.

  "She handed over the loot to her men."

  Again, Stephan waited, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Slade was silent.

  "Bloody hell, it's like pulling teeth," Stephan muttered. "You're as close mouthed as any one I've met. Spit it out. Why was Jericho Manning looking for Lainie MacPherson?"

  "You’ve got the gist of it."

  "Like hell I do. I know you well enough to know you aren't telling me half of it. You wouldn't bring a thief into Josie's home."

  He shrugged. "I guess I did."

  A taut silence followed then the whinny of a horse changed it.

  "Talk," Stephan said bluntly.

  "When Lainie left the tavern, I followed her. Then all hell broke loose. When the fighting ended and the dust cleared, she'd left. But not before she set me up to die."

  Stephan whistled through his teeth. "So that's what eating you. She chose to save herself when there was no chance in hell she could help you--a man she’d never met before."

  "I got the hell out of there and prayed Jericho and what was left of his men didn't end up on my heels. I meant to catch up with her and find out what hurricane had just blown over me."

  Shaking his head, Stephan said, "Be damned. Lainie doesn't look like a thief."

  "What do you think a thief looks like? She set me up to die," Slade said again.

  "If any man but you said that, I'd call him a liar."

  Without warning Slade turned and looked into the darkness beyond the lamplight.

  "Tell him, thief. Tell him why Jericho Manning was looking for you. Tell him why there is a bounty on your head."

  Lainie froze in the act of taking a step back. After a sharp struggle with herself, she controlled the impulse to turn and run. But she could do nothing to put the color in a face gone as pale as milk. She prayed the light was poor enough that her terror wouldn't show. Shoulders back she walked toward the two men who would condemn her.

  "I'm not what he says I am," she said.

  Slade grabbed the bags Lainie was holding, opened one of them, and yanked out the journal she'd read from.

  "Not as heart-tugging as a pair of boy's britches worn thin and ragged, but a damn sight more truthful," Slade said to Stephan.

  Color returned to Lainie's cheeks in a crimson tide.

  "I was living in the forest with men who were working for King James and Scotland. I have nothing to hide from you," she said in a thin voice. "Everything I stole went back to the
Scottish people to whom it belonged in the first place."

  "So you say, little fox. So you say. Your gang of thieves abandoned you. Do you really believe they would give the riches you pilfered to the poor?"

  Slade jammed the journal back into the bag, flipped the joined bags over the corral rail, and went back to saddling the pony.

  "Have you eaten?" Stephan asked Lainie.

  She shook her head, not trusting her voice. Nor could she look Stephan in the eye. He had taken her into his house, and what he must think of her now that he knew a partial truth made her wish to be somewhere else--anywhere else. Yet she was still glad he did not know the whole truth. She did not wish to be judged again for something she'd had no control over.

  "Is Josie up yet?" Stephan asked.

  Lainie shook her head again.

  "Not surprising," Stephan said easily. "The baby was cranky all last night."

  "Teething," Lainie said.

  The word was barely a whisper, but Stephan understood.

  Slade swore under his breath. That, too, carried in the stillness of dawn.

  "Cloves," Lainie whispered a moment later.

  "Excuse me?" Stephan asked.

  Lainie cleared her throat painfully. "Oil of cloves. On his gums. It will make the pain go away and sweeten his temper."

  "Bloody Hell, it's too bad oil of cloves won't improve Slade's temper. Right now, I'd rather kick his butt around the stables," Stephan said, "until he understood what a damn fool he was."

  Slade's head shot up. He gave Stephan a hard glare. Stephan gave it right back.

  "I'd think you'd be the last one to be taken in by a pretty face."

  Slade reached under the pony's belly, shot the long leather strap through the cinch ring, and began tightening the cinch with hard, quick motions of his hands. His words were the same--hard and quick.

  "You went to the high seas with Josie, an innocent girl who wanted love. I wanted to kick your butt right into the grey Atlantic."

  Leather hissed over leather.

  "I'm going into the highlands with an experienced little thief who likes to earn her keep on her back with men like Bertram. Makes a man wonder about her real motives--the ones she hasn't talked about. And to make my life worse, I'm going to have to worry about her two brothers attacking me."

  Slade snapped the stirrup into place. The scrape of leather was like a cry in the stillness.

  "If I give into temptation, I won't pay her for her services nor will I give her trinkets. And I'll keep my eyes open while I sleep because she might steal me blind or stab me in the back and leave me to the likes of Jericho and his mercenaries," Slade finished harshly. "She's done it before. I don't trust the little fox farther than I can see her and her hands."

  Slade yanked Lainie's bags off the corral fence, took the bedroll from her hands, and secured both behind her saddle. When he finished, he spun around, picked Lainie up, and dumped her in the saddle.

  Only then did he turn to Stephan.

  "Tell Josie good-by for us."

  Slade sprang into the saddle like a big cat. A swift motion of his hand jerked one of the packhorse's lead rope free of the corral rail. He wheeled Baby around and touched her with his spurs.

  The horse headed out of the yard at a brisk canter. The two packhorses followed.

  So did Stephan's voice.

  "Run while you can, you hardheaded son of a bitch. There's nothing on this earth more powerful than a silk rope--or sweeter."

  ~ * ~

  Slade didn't like the feelings he was having now, nor did he like the things he'd said about Lainie.

  The hair on the back of Slade's neck stood on end--a sure sign that someone dogged their back trail. He pushed the horses hard from dawn until dusk, covering twice as much ground as a normal traveler would, hoping to wear down Jericho and his men.

  Lainie didn't complain. The long hours stretched into an eternity even for Slade. When he thought about the conversation this morning, her silence unnerved him. He knew he’d made her angry and for some reason he didn’t like himself very much right now. She said nothing at all except to answer direct questions, and Slade had very few questions.

  Gradually Lainie's anger gave way to curiosity about the trail. Slade had purposely avoided the main roads and well used roads. At times, he made his own trail, and at other times, he followed animal trails. As they headed farther north she was filled with both peace and a heady sense of being on the edge of the world.

  To her left a high, ragged cliff rose, covered with moss and tiny wildflowers that were trying desperately to find a foothold. To her right was a dense forest of trees.

  Noticing the familiar landmarks she'd memorized from her journeys, she knew they were making their way into the highlands. Mile by mile the land was changing, beneath the agile feet of the horses.

  Lainie could not take her eyes from the ragged thrust of land. Plants grew on the cliff's steep sides. Water dripped from every crevice, and the sound of rushing water was ever present.

  Lainie wanted to talk to Slade about the beauty of the country as well as the path he meant to take. She didn't believe they headed toward Edinburgh but she couldn't be sure. She didn't ask questions. She had decided miles back that she would ask for nothing from him that wasn't part of the devil's bargain they had struck.

  And the thought of having to keep that bargain--of giving herself to a man who thought her a liar a cheat and a whore--was like ice congealing in her soul.

  Surely, Slade doesn't still believe the worst of me. The more we're together, the more he must see that I'm not what he thinks I am. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see me any other way.

  All through the day, Slade watched his back trail. At first Lainie had thought it was concern that she would cut and run that kept Slade so alert and wary. Gradually she had realized it was something else entirely.

  They were being followed. Lainie sensed that at the same primitive level as she sensed the raw hunger in Slade's eyes whenever he looked at her.

  She wondered if Slade remembered the times they'd touched and the heat that seemed to spark each time, simmering with untold possibilities. She had never known anyone like him. She'd never wanted anyone the way she wanted him. Something elemental and primitive stirred inside her.

  It's only passion and hunger. It's not love.

  Throughout the long hours on the trail, the memories haunted her. Each time they returned, they sent a myriad of wonder and excitement through her, undermining her fury at Slade.

  How could she be angry at a man whose heart and soul matched hers. She had waited all her life for someone like this--a man who could be gentle and kind yet protect her from the world.

  He can't believe I'm a woman who would give herself to a man for trinkets.

  Surely, he understands. Surely, he can see through the rumors and realize who I really am. He's just too obstinate to admit he was wrong about me.

  The thought was as alluring to Lainie as the possibility of seeing her home and being welcomed into it. She had dreamed of the time when she could ride across the narrow land bridge to the MacPherson castle with her head held high. She prayed the time was near.

  "Wait for me." Slade said no more. Nor did he need to.

  Lainie reined in her tired mount, took the lead rope of the packhorse, and watched Slade leave without asking where he was going or why. She simply sat on her horse and waited for his return with a patience that came from exhaustion not the will to obey the stubborn man. Around her, the last colors of the day drained from the sky, leaving twilight behind.

  It was full dark when Slade reappeared as silently as a wraith. The packhorses were too busy cropping grass to bother calling a greeting to their trail mate.

  Slade waited for Lainie to ask where he had been and why. When she didn't, his mouth tightened with what she read as irritation.

  Are you going to sulk all night?" he asked.

  "Why do you care what a liar, a cheat, and whore does?" Lainie asked swee
tly trying not to let her own anger show through. "Someone who gives herself to a man for trinkets," she added.

  She pretended not to hear the word Slade hissed beneath his breath as he dismounted. He began unsaddling his horse with quick, angry motions. When he finished he turned to Lainie with his fists on his lean hips.

  "I don't understand why women get upset when a man calls them what they are," he said bluntly