To Save a Savage Scot

by Tamara Gill

  “It does. In fact, it’s still the same route to get to the beach.” She chuckled. “I was just thinking how weird that was and yet how wonderful that no matter how much time has passed, some things never change.”

  “Nay, they don’t, do they?” He looked contemplative before guiding his horse onto the shore, where Kenzie came up abreast of him.

  “Is it reasonably safe around these parts?”

  “Are ye scared, lass?” Ben asked, not looking at her but watching the ocean instead.

  “A little,” she conceded. “I’ve read so much about clan battles and how violent they can be. Most often, the attack happens when one least expects it. I don’t know how to fight. I wouldn’t know what to do should such a thing happen to us out here.”

  “Well, ’tis lucky I do.” He reached over, slipping a stray hair that had come loose of her pony tail behind her ear. The contact sent shivers down her spine and her stomach clenched. “I’ll protect ye lass, with my life.”

  “Even though only a few days ago we were not the best of friends?”

  “Of course. Ye’re a woman. So, unless ye come at me with a sword, I’ll protect ye at my own cost.”

  Kenzie wondered how it was that anyone could be so selfless with their life. To protect others, even if it cost you your life, was a sacrifice she wasn’t sure she could make. How was it that the men of this era never second-guessed themselves? Never doubted what they should do, who they should protect?

  “I find it infinitely fascinating that you could sacrifice yourself for me. Not,” she said, gesturing to the woods that grew denser beside the beach, “that I would like us to be stormed by an enemy to test your honor, but how do you do it? How do you know that you would gladly give up your life so that someone you hardly know can live?”

  He threw her an odd look before he shrugged. “Because no matter what ye may have read about me in your history books, or know of this time, I’m an honorable man. But do not be fooled that everyone is, lass. Should we be ambushed, if I tell ye to run, get away, or hide, ye must do as ye’re told.”

  Kenzie nodded. “I understand, and Gwen said something similar to me not long after I arrived. And, of course, I will, I promise. I don’t want to die.”

  “Very good. Now, there is a track up ahead we could take into the forest, which will bring us to the point on the cliffs. Did ye wish to see the view?”

  She pulled her horse to a stop and looked up at the hill that came to a head overlooking the sea. From this point, the hill reminded Kenzie of the white cliffs of Dover, except not as high or steep. And instead of the crystal-white chalk, this hill was covered in moss and rocks, right down to the surf, which was a little wilder than the flowing waves now beside them. “I would love to see it.” She’d often hiked up to the spot, spent hours reading on the clifftop with nothing but the sound of the sea crashing against the land. To see if it had changed between this time and hers was exactly what she wanted to do.

  They rode into the forest and Kenzie was thankful she’d brought a warm woolen shawl with her. Under the cover of the large trees and dense foliage, the air was moist and cooler. Ben worked their way in the direction of the lookout but stopped suddenly, lifting a hand for her to be silent.

  Kenzie did as he told her and the hair at the back of her neck rose.

  “Get off the horse, lass.”

  She quickly did as he bade, and with a gesture, Ben walked the horses off the little track and into the forest. Within only a few yards, the track was no longer visible, but Ben didn’t stop, just kept walking the horses farther in, as if to hide them.

  “What did you hear?” she whispered, bumping into the back of Ben when he stopped.

  “Men.”

  Kenzie looked back toward where they’d come and listened, and finally she heard it, too. The muffled chatter of men. Why were they in the forest not far from Gwen’s home? And did Gwen know? What if they were on their way to kill her family?

  “Shush, lass.” The whispered words against her ear made Kenzie aware of another danger—the one that stood beside her. Clad in a tunic, with his tartan kilt, Black Ben looked the part of a warrior Scot. A mixture of danger and delicious temptation.

  “Do you know who they are?”

  “Nay, I don’t recognize the voices.” Ben took a step toward where they’d come and moved some ferns to get a better look. “Ah, McDonnel men. Deserters, by the look of their filthy tartans.”

  Kenzie came up behind Ben and peeked about his shoulder. Unconsciously, she clasped his hips to steady herself and regretted the action as soon as she did it. He was solid muscle. She wanted to run her hands downward to see if his ass was just as solid, just as firm.

  Of course, she’d seen him naked, so she was very aware that he was well endowed. His body was practically perfect.

  Shouts sounded from the trail, and Ben pulled her onto the ground, muffling her mouth with his hand. Kenzie couldn’t breathe, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the fright or that Ben was laying over her, his mouth awfully close to her cheek and his form running the length of her body.

  Oh, dear Lord, I really should have stopped reading those romance novels…

  “Horses have been here and not long ago. Let’s go, lads, before we’re caught.”

  Everyone seemed to be in agreement, and not long after, Kenzie heard the sound of horses cantering away from their location. “Do you think it’s safe now?” she muttered under his palm.

  Ben removed his hand, and she gazed up at him just as he looked down at her. Another mistake. He was so close.

  “Ye have dirt on ye cheeks.” Ben wiped her skin with his thumb, his attention snapping to her lips.

  Was he going to kiss her? Oh please, God, let it be so. Kenzie wanted to know what it would feel like to act on this overwhelming desire for the man. A man who was not meant for her, no matter how much she found him physically attractive.

  “We should go. Come, lass,” he said, standing and pulling her up. “Those men are long gone, and we can still make the point, if we go now.”

  “Okay.” Kenzie walked to her horse and with Ben’s help, mounted. His hands stayed on her hips longer than they needed to, and she adjusted her seat, trying to calm the heart that beat a million times too fast in her chest.

  She watched as he swung up on his horse, his kilt lifting a little and giving her a view of a muscled thigh. “Oh, for crying out loud.”

  “Did ye say something, lass?”

  Kenzie kicked her mount on. “No, nothing. Lead on.”

  They rode for a time in silence, and Kenzie assumed it was because Ben wanted to listen for the men, no matter that he’d said they were gone. And Kenzie was happy for the silence. She needed to compose herself. This attraction she had to the man was beyond annoying and truly illogical. She would be going back to her own time shortly, and she couldn’t forget there was the pesky problem of Ben disappearing or being killed by a never-known source.

  As they climbed upward, the forest thinned, until the trees were sporadic and the ferns were replaced with small shrubs and heather.

  At the top, Kenzie looked out over the ocean, its blue depths never changing, no matter the era. Rocks that she’d sat on in her time were in their rightful places. How wonderful that the earth could be so similar even after all the years.

  “Have ye ever been up here before, lass? I know this is ye home in the future, but ye’re looking at the sea as if you’ve never seen such beauty.”

  “I grew up in England, and only moved back to Scotland a couple of years ago, after my father died. I come up here often to read and relax. The view is as spectacular as it always has been.”

  At a thumping sound, Kenzie turned in her seat and looked behind them, only to see the men from earlier riding hard toward them, swords drawn and raised.

  “Ben, we have company.”

  Before the words had left her lips, the ting of metal being drawn sounded beside her as Ben pulled a second long and deadly blade from his
hip. “Stay on ye horse, and stay behind me for as long as ye can. And when I say so, ride hard for the trees. Head home and sound the alarm to Braxton.”

  “I will.” Fear curled about her, and her horse shifted, stomping its feet the closer the four riders came. Kenzie pulled out a knife she’d hidden in her boot; it was pathetically small, but she only needed to stab a hand or something. Not that she wanted to get close enough to these men who, the closer they came, the angrier they looked.

  On the cliff edge, Kenzie and Ben had nowhere to go, and the men slowed just before reaching them, menacing glee written across their faces.

  “Ah, Black Ben, ’tis good to finally find ye. We’ve been looking for quite some weeks.”

  Ben didn’t reply, but Kenzie noted his hand flexed on his sword handle.

  “So ye’ve been hiding out on Macleod lands, hey? Didn’t think a Ross would be so cowardly.”

  “What do ye want?” Ben asked, his back rigid, ready to defend her.

  “Nothing that ye need to concern yourself about as ye will be dead within a few minutes.”

  “Who sent ye?” Ben asked, his voice a lot calmer than Kenzie’s would’ve been had she been speaking.

  “That also dinna concern ye, but know that once you’re dead, we’ll be claiming a good deal of blunt for our trouble.”

  With Ben’s death guaranteed only a few months away, Kenzie couldn’t help but think this was a lead up to the eventual raid at Castle Ross. Kenzie clasped her reins, ready to go as soon as Ben told her. These men meant trouble, and she and Ben were not getting away without a fight.

  The only solace was that Ben’s date of death was not today, so at least one of them was getting out of here alive. With that thought came another. Since she had traveled back in time, perhaps she’d already altered history and today was the day Ben would meet his fate?

  A cold shiver ran through her blood, and she sent a silent prayer up to God that it wasn’t so. It was too soon for him. It would always be too soon.

  …

  Ben kept his gaze locked on the man in the middle of the little pack, the one who seemed to be in control of the rabble. They all looked small enough for him to deal with, but with men who no longer followed clan rules, it was anyone’s guess as to how they would react, or what they were willing to do. And he had Kenzie to keep safe.

  “What are ye doing on Macleod land? The laird will not be pleased to find ye’re here without his consent.”

  Each one laughed and snickered. “We heard the land was gifted to the laird’s sister. She’s a pretty lass, that Gwendolyn. Lovely and ripe, perfect for picking.”

  The second largest rubbed his jaw. “Just like your sweet lass. Pretty, too, nice clean skin that we’d hate to mark, but…well, it happens doesn’t it, aye.”

  Ben clenched his jaw. The thought of Gwen and sweet Kenzie getting into such abusive hands sent rage roaring through his blood. “You’ll have to get through me first, before ye touch either lass. And if ye do, dinna think to be touching her for long.”

  The leader pointed his sword at Ben. “Shall we see how long it’ll take for us to get to your sweet lass? Shall we commence?”

  “Aye, if ye’re ready to die.”

  The man lunged, and Ben swiped his sword up, bringing it back down to slice against the man’s stomach. Instead of spilling his innards across the grass below their boots, he nipped the skin, leaving a perfect line of red that seeped onto his cut tunic.

  “Are ye sure you wish to continue?” Ben asked, rolling his sword in his hand.

  This time, the men came at him from all angles, and it took some effort to fight off the onslaught. Ben managed to land a solid blow against one of the men’s temples, and he went down, out cold, possibly dead if he was lucky.

  The other two remained persistent. The fight carried on for some time, and Ben cursed his sickness that had made him weak; his stamina was not as it once had been. One of the men threw his sword in the direction of Kenzie, and before Ben could shout out to her to run, the weapon lodged firmly in her horse’s chest, killing the animal instantly. The horse and Kenzie went down together, and out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Kenzie fighting to get her leg out from under the horse’s body.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Ben said, his voice laced with deadly promise.

  The third man he’d knocked out came to and joined his clansmen. The men lunged, and Ben fought hard, but three against one wasn’t good odds, especially after his illness. “Run Kenzie. Now. Get out of here.”

  He was glad to see she was able to extricate her leg, and she bolted in the direction of home. Ben had maneuvered the men around so their backs were facing the cliff and sea, but one broke off and chased after Kenzie.

  The other two laughed, and Ben lunged, striking one bastard with a killer blow to his stomach, which was already bleeding. This time, Ben was pleased to see his guts did spill out over his shoes, the man’s shocked gaze watching it land at his feet before he stumbled backward over the cliff.

  The last one, an idiot who stopped fighting to watch his comrade die, never saw the blow that sliced into his shoulder and neck, cutting his head partly off.

  Ben grabbed his horse, mounted, and took off in the direction Kenzie had fled. Ice water rushed through his blood at the sound of her scream. He urged his mount on, coming across a scene that he never wished to see again.

  Kenzie lay beside a slow-flowing river, the filthy bastard over her, ripping at her dress and pushing her legs apart. He could see she was fighting him with everything she had, but the man was large, too strong for her.

  Ben jumped off his horse as it was still moving, coming up behind the man and slitting his throat, his knife sinking into the man’s skin so deep Ben could feel the neck bone grind against his blade.

  Ben should’ve pulled the man off Kenzie before killing him, and it wasn’t until absolute shock registered on Kenzie’s face did Ben realize what he’d done.

  He threw the man to the side and pulled Kenzie into his arms, rubbing her back, hating that she shook, was cold and rigid. “All’s well, lass. Ye’re safe now. I have ye.” She sobbed into his arms, her hands coming around to clasp his midriff.

  “You killed him. I saw. I saw.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “His head nearly came off.” Heaving sobs wracked her body, and Ben cringed.

  “I’m sorry, lass. I should not have killed him before ye. I forgot ye’re not from my time, and you’ve probably never seen such before.”

  She shivered in his arms, and he picked her up, sitting down on a nearby fallen log to hold her as she came to terms with what she’d witnessed. Not that Ben thought she’d ever get over such a sight, but he would comfort her for as long as it took. He’d seen the softer side of Abby MacLeod often enough to know that Kenzie’s time wasn’t as coarse, that the people of their time were not prone to such wars and violence. They no longer had to fight for survival in Scotland. They simply worked and lived with little trouble.

  “I have his blood on me.”

  “Aye, ye do.” He looked over to the slow flowing river. “Did ye want to wash it off?”

  She looked toward the waterway but shook her head. “No, I just want to go home.” Kenzie looked up at him, and Ben had an overwhelming urge to protect her, to care for the woman in his arms, more so than any other woman ever.

  He whistled for his horse and stood, carrying Kenzie to the beast’s side. He mounted and pulled her up before him, riding back to the house as fast as he could. A day that was supposed to be carefree and peaceful had turned into a nightmare.

  As for the men who’d attacked them, he would be sending out Braxton’s men to see if any of them recognized who they were, before they buried the bodies.

  Later that evening, he sat in the great hall, Braxton across from him, both quiet in contemplation.

  “My men had never seen the men who attacked ye today. Granted they were wearing McDonnel tartan, but they could’ve stolen those, been deserters of another c
lan. I’ll send word to McDonnel to see if they’re missing any clansmen, and then we’ll know. But what concerns me more is why they attacked ye in the first place? Do ye know of anyone who would wish ye harm?”

  “Nay, no one, although it seems someone has put a price on my head.” Ben thought on the attack and what it could bode for him in the future months. “They could’ve just been sayin’ that as well, to rattle me. Dinna forget I had Kenzie with me, and she’s a pretty morsel of flesh, if ever I saw one. They could’ve been after her.”

  “Pretty morsel of flesh? Do we need to have a discussion as to why ye’re not allowed to court my great-too-many-times-to-count granddaughter?”

  Ben met Braxton’s gaze and noted it was deadly serious. “What? I’m not good enough for ye bloodline? I think ye’re forgetting I’m a laird in my own right. I’ve not had my position bestowed on me because of who I married.”

  “Watch yourself, Ben, or you’ll be finding yer ass out on my front stone step faster than ye can blink.”

  “Will you two cease such stupidity? No one is kicking anyone out, and Ben, as much as we care for ye, consider ye a friend, Kenzie is not for you. Remember, she’s not staying for long, and it would be unwise of ye to form any sort of attachment to her.”

  Ben downed his mead and poured another. It was too late not to form an attachment to the lass. He liked her, appreciated her company. Aye, the lass had a lovely face that just added to his pleasure when around her. “If ye think I’m going to fall in love with her, drop to my knees, and declare my life over the day she departs, ye daft in the head. I enjoy her company. That is all. There will be no further discussion on the matter.”

  “I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Braxton said, still glaring.

  “Braxton.” Gwen sighed, throwing her husband a quelling stare. “No matter what we say, or our reasoning behind it, Kenzie is a grown woman and will, I’m sure, make up her own mind as to who she allows courtship with. We cannot interfere in her life. It is not our place.”

  “Ye would allow her to form feelings for someone not of her time?” Braxton whispered, looking about for servants.