Every Heart Has Its Day

by Lynda Lukow

  At the camp her captor spoke with another man. Mayhap one of them could find a vessel for the berries she cradled in her skirt. She waited for a pause in their discussion.

  The bushes behind her captor rustled despite the stilled air. Six men comprised this escort, and none of the others could have circled back so quickly.

  She charged toward her captor. As she reached him, flame shot through her. She stumbled into him.

  He caught her before she fell. “Ye used to be more graceful, milady.”

  Kasey gritted her teeth and pointed to the arrow piercing her upper arm. “Mayhap this has affected my balance.”

  His howl could have scared the fur off a wolf.

  Connor carried her to a boulder. Five warriors, swords drawn, immediately surrounded her.

  She gasped when he lifted her skirts and removed a dagger.

  “Tend the lady.”

  Broken twigs and trodden brush left a trail a blind man could follow. His pace matched the beating of his heart.

  Mayhap he slithered under a rock.

  Dammit. Kasey implied that Randall had followed. Connor’s failure to listen more closely had led to her injury. He hungered for this chance to avenge all of Randall’s wrongs.

  The distance between the footfalls lessened. He slowed his steps. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when the trail disappeared.

  Randall had once before attacked from the rear. Connor would not repeat that mistake. He held his breath and listened. The brush behind him rustled. He wheeled and caught the hand before the dagger touched his chest.

  “We meet agin.” Connor twisted his enemy’s wrist until the dagger fell from his grasp. “Be ye afraid, Randall?”

  “I fear no fool, Mackintosh.”

  “Then ye best fear me.” Connor would snap the man’s neck, but he decided to make him suffer. He released him and drove his fist into Randall’s stomach.

  “She be not worth yer time now.” Cameron crawled to his feet. “My clansmen and I have often enjoyed her charms.”

  “Ye think I would believe a lying bastard?”

  “I think ye dead.” Randall drew his sword and lunged.

  Connor sidestepped the blade as he unsheathed his own.

  Metal clanged, sparks rained as one sword blocked the other. Mackintosh locked hilts with Cameron. Connor shoved Randall with strength borne of fury. Randall stumbled.

  Connor’s parries and thrusts backed Randall into a tree trunk. “Ye have softened since we last met.” With a wrench of his weapon, Connor disarmed Randall.

  He grabbed the snake’s tunic, then jabbed his blade into the ground. “Do ye wish yer death to be as slow and painful as that ye planned for the lady?”

  Randall twisted and kicked. Connor rammed him against the tree. “Mayhap I shall make it quick and painful, so I have more time to undo the harm ye have meted.”

  “Yer whore will never be whole.”

  Connor’s free hand slid to his belt. “It be a shame ye will not see what my love will do. Ken that ye die by my hand and Kasey’s blade.”

  ****

  Keen to verify his brothers had tended Kasey, Connor hurried back to camp.

  Surrounded by the others, Gavin knelt by her side. “One of us must break the arrow.”

  “Ye be the healer.” Dillon’s voice shook. “Ye do it.”

  “I must hold her arm steady. Robert?”

  “I canna hurt a woman.”

  “Malcolm, ye be strong.”

  “Dinna ply yer silver tongue, Gavin. I canna hurt a woman either,” he jabbed a finger in Kasey’s direction, “especially that woman.”

  “Would someone please remove it before it sprouts into a tree?” She clenched her jaw. “Or mayhap ye wish to wait for it to grow wings and fly out on its own?”

  Connor pierced the circle and glared at his men. “Did ye not hear my command?”

  Robert shot to Gavin’s defense. “We ken the pain of an arrow pulled through flesh. We dinna wish to hurt the lady.”

  “Ye believe she feels naught now?” Connor shoved Gavin aside. “Why dinna ye call out a warning? Do ye believe a mouse can move a mountain?”

  Cradling her elbow, she silently stared past him.

  Gavin patted his shoulder to show he had clean cloths ready. Connor nodded. He ran his hand along the length of her braid, then placed the silken plait in front of her uninjured shoulder. His hands trembled as he reached behind her to untie the laces of her gown.

  Dreams of the day he would undo her kirtle had sweetened his sleep for many a year, but he had envisioned just he and Kasey sharing the wonders of each other’s love in the privacy of his chamber.

  That day would come.

  He took a deep breath and loosened the ties.

  Kasey leaned forward. “What ye be doing?”

  “Ye ken after we remove the arrow, we must press linens agin the wound to staunch the flow.”

  “Wrap the cloth around my sleeve.”

  Gavin shook his head. “It be wiser to—”

  “Ye canna remove my gown.”

  Connor rubbed his temples. He understood the rules of propriety, but to risk one’s health to adhere to them made no sense. “Cut off the sleeve.”

  “I canna meander aboot with a bare arm.”

  “Put on a fresh gown afore we ride.”

  “I have but one more. Since each day brings spattered blood, I willna don my last until I arrive wherever ye take me.”

  Though her quarrel may be good sign, Connor would waste no more time on trifle. He turned to Gavin. “Slice the sleeve, but leave the length.”

  While Connor tied her laces, Gavin did as ordered. Connor asked, “Be ye ready?”

  Her eyes glazed, then she nodded.

  He pushed the shaft until the feathers touched the back of her arm, then snapped off the tip. He expected her to scream, but she did not flinch or utter a sound. As soon as he whisked the shaft from her arm, Gavin squeezed the wound between two cloths.

  “Thank ye. If ye light a small fire, I can tend the wound.”

  “My brother will see to ye.”

  She snatched her dagger from Connor’s belt and held it out to Gavin.

  “Ye think to sear the wounds, milady?”

  She nodded.

  “Searing leaves ugly scars and increases the chance of fever. It be safer to let them heal in their own time.”

  Kasey shrugged.

  Connor had enough. “He will tend yer wounds without searing. I find scars on my woman intolerable.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He smiled. She would not hold her tongue now. After a few moments of silence his grin faded.

  Gavin tended her wounds, and his men fawned over her. He took heart that they accepted the woman who would be their lady, but how long would she need to embrace him?

  ****

  Kasey’s eyelids felt heavier than ten pails of water, but sleep remained elusive. Each hoofbeat sent a shaft of pain through the arm bound to her chest and increased the roiling in her stomach.

  Rather than dwell on her discomfort, she carefully considered her words. “The man who shot the arrow,” she paused to gather her courage. “Was he tall and stout with dark hair and darker eyes?”

  “Bulky and black, aye, but I would call him squat.”

  “Mayhap he stood somewhere atween a mouse and a mountain?”

  “Aye.” He chuckled, then tensed and straightened in his saddle. “Did he take part in the siege?”

  “I be sure. Dillon’s skill under siege surprised me.” Her mouth felt as dry as a field in a drought. “Rumor said he had no family, yet he called both ye and the man who tended me brother. Be ye kin?”

  She waited a few moments for an answer. His lips remained a thin line. “Ye and yer men came to get him, dinna ye?”

  “We retrieved all that be ours.”

  “I dinna understand.”

  “I ken many questions amble aboot behind those beautiful blue eyes. In time, milady, ye will
learn the answers, but for now I beg yer patience and trust.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Many a year had passed without a single compliment, but his pretty words changed naught. Too many friends and kin had betrayed her. How could she give this stranger what he asked?

  “Why would yer own clan attack ye?”

  Tears filled her eyes. Though she had never been close to her laird, she always hoped that some day he would love her like a father should. “My laird must have issued the command.”

  She moaned when he tightened his hold on her waist. The pain in her back matched that in her arm. She leaned forward to ease the pressure.

  “Why?”

  By time she told the full truth, she would not have a shred of honor left. “The Camerons canna continue to pay the special tax levied by our king.”

  “Ye know of the tax?”

  “Aye, but how do ye ken of it?”

  He shrugged. “If yer laird had obeyed the king’s command, the levy would have ended.”

  “Ye be mistaken. My clan pays because the king claims I stole from him.” She turned and looked at his chin. “I be not a thief. I left with naught more than I brought, save these boots and daggers, but they were a gift.”

  “Mayhap someday ye will tell me who gave ye these gifts, and who taught ye to wield them.”

  “Mayhap.” She shrugged. Pain tore through her back and shoulder.

  “So ye believe the tax would end with yer death.”

  “I be sure.”

  “Yer laird would rather see ye dead than part with gold?”

  “He took a dowry from Laird Grant.” Her cheeks heated with her confession. Usually the bride’s family paid the man, not the other way around.

  “I thought he had wed Laird MacCauley’s daughter.”

  “Two wives ago.” She sighed. “I thank ye for twice saving me from death’s door.”

  “We be even, milady.”

  “Ye growled those same words last night, and ye speak as though we have met afore. Who be ye, sir?”

  He leaned down to her ear. “Ye ken who I be, Kasey.”

  Her breath hitched. The warmth of his lips against her lobe made her shiver. Though the man behind her shared few traits with her memories, he acted much like Hunter.

  Tears came to her eyes. Hope of seeing him again had often given her the strength to endure. Each time an emissary had visited, she prayed he brought Hunter, only to have her hopes dashed. Dare she believe fate had finally reunited them?

  What if destiny had succeeded? She never understood which of her traits appealed to Hunter, but, for survival’s sake, she had forgone many of her virtues. If Hunter returned, would he be pleased with the woman she had become? A woman even she did not like.

  She could not risk hope any more than she could look into her captor’s eyes. Shattered dreams would kill her more quickly than a blade.

  “Why did ye borrow my dagger?”

  “To skin a snake.”

  “How could ye?” Kasey jumped from the trotting horse, rolled in the grass, then ran into the forest.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dillon gained his brother’s side. “What in blazes did ye say to her?” Without awaiting Connor’s answer, he reined his horse in the direction Kasey had fled. “Milady?”

  She picked up a stone and skipped it across the water. “Let me be.”

  “Ye be disturbed.”

  “Disturbed?” She chose a flatter rock and winced when she threw it. “Nay, Dillon. I be a fool.”

  “Ye be the wisest, bravest lass I ever met.”

  “Ye must not ken many women.”

  “I know enough.”

  “Mayhap one has caught yer eye?”

  “She cares not for me.” He shrugged. “It be just as well. As the third son, I have naught to offer a lady.”

  “A wise woman seeks naught more than love.”

  “Her laird demands more.”

  “Have faith, my friend. Prove yer heart be hers. If a future be meant, ’twill happen.”

  “Be ye wise enough to heed yer own counsel?” He picked up a flat rock and skimmed it across the water’s surface.

  “Fate denies me the man of my dreams.”

  “Ye utter a falsehood, milady.”

  “Do I?” She sighed. “I be sorry, Dillon. I dwell too long on my troubles. Please, let me see yer back.”

  “I be fine, milady.”

  “I dinna know ye be a healer.”

  “I ken when I be in pain, milady. However, if it would make ye feel better, I will let ye see for yerself—after ye tell me what vexes ye.”

  “My worries be not yer concern.”

  “Ye be wrong, milady.”

  “Why would ye care?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  She threw her unbound hand into the air. “Does anyone here hold honesty dear? I tire of shrugs and lack of answers.”

  “We be tired of trying to read yer mind, milady.”

  “We? Ye refer to that hairy mountain ye call brother? He cares not a whit aboot my thoughts.”

  “Ye be wrong, milady.”

  “Nay, Dillon. Each question I pose garners naught but a riddle.”

  “I feared he would muck this up.” He flung another rock. “My brother has risked much to come for ye. Please give him time to sort out what need be done.”

  “If his plan be doomed, he should return me to the Grant. I swear to conceal his collusion.” She sighed. “I have no choice, since I dinna ken who any of ye be.”

  “Which bothers ye more, milady? That my brother took ye away from yer betrothed or that he has yet to give ye his name?”

  “I care not aboot the Grant.” She eased down on a tree stump. “But at least I had an idea what my future held.”

  “And ye prefer an early death to a brighter future?” He knelt before her. “Think, milady. Ye must have noticed every man here treats ye with respect.”

  “Because I took the arrow meant for yer brother.”

  He shook his head. “Each man here risked his life in the siege.”

  “They fought for ye.”

  “And ye. Please, milady, dinna hate me, but I can say no more. I beg yer trust. When ye learn the truth, ye will be pleased.”

  “Ye dinna know me well enough to guess what pleases me.” She glanced out at the water. “Even I be not sure. All that I ever hoped for has been stolen from me.”

  “Tell me, milady. What have ye lost?”

  “Two hopes have seen me through these three years past. One be as possible as holding a rainbow. Yer brother thieved the other.”

  “Now ye speak in riddles.”

  “After all he had done to me, to Evonne.”

  “Evonne?”

  “Mylifelong friend and lady’s maid.” She stared at the horizon. “He killed her.”

  “Who killed Evonne?”

  “Randall. Can ye not see? The right to send him to Hell belonged to me.”

  Dillon chuckled.

  She glared at him. “I be born to heal, but lived to kill. Yet yer brother took that from me.”

  “’Tis why ye ran from him?”

  She nodded. “I canna imagine the punishment yer brother will mete for my insolence.”

  “Fret not, milady. He be not like the Camerons.” He patted her arm. “He might blister yer ears, but he willna lash ye.”

  “I shall find out for myself after I check yer back.”

  He nodded and turned to face the trail. Kasey raise his tunic. He laughed when her fingers feathered his ribs.

  “Ye be ticklish, Dillon?”

  He shook his head.

  “I dinna believe ye.” She brushed a nail below each lash.

  He contained himself for a few moments, then gave into laughter. She giggled along.

  “Dillon!”

  Her finger stilled at Connor’s bellow.

  Dillon reached to catch her before she ran into the forest, but her quickness thwarted his attempt. He clenched his jaw and looked at his
brothers. The anger on Connor’s face further riled him. “It be not what it seems, milord.”

  Connor shook his head before he stormed off in the opposite direction Kasey ran.

  “Be ye mad, mon?” Gavin asked.

  “Ye dinna understand.”

  “She belongs to him.”

  “If he would open his eyes, he would see I already treat her as our sister.”

  “Connor presently sees naught but green.”

  “He must accept the bond we share.” Dillon pulled his tunic over his stomach.

  Gavin grabbed his arm. “Explain this tie.”

  “Ye want to know?” He pulled away, jerked up his shirt, and turned his back to Gavin. He ignored his brother’s gasp. “Lady Kasey risked much the nights after I received these marks. I shall never forget her concern or courage when she brought salve to ease my pain.”

  “For what crime were ye flogged?”

  “I had seen and heard naught of Lady Kasey. My attempts to befriend her clansmen failed. To gain their attention I dropped my sword. My foolishness earned three lashes.”

  “Yer back bears more than three marks.”

  “The arrow I shot over the wall merited another three. Randall gave me a slight reprieve for the strength the feat required.”

  “Ye must tell Connor.”

  “I shall, after we arrive home. Until then, I beg ye keep my secret.”

  “Ye canna delay.”

  “I can and I shall.” Dillon’s heart pounded in his ears. “As near as we be to the Cameron’s manor, Connor would demand immediate revenge. We finally have Lady Kasey in our fold. We canna risk her well-being for aught that canna be changed.”

  “I dinna approve of withholding information, but I will abide by yer decision.”

  “Thank ye, brother.”

  “Do ye think…?”

  He waited for his older brother to finish his question. When he could no longer tolerate the silence, Dillon asked, “What?”

  “Has Kasey has suffered at their hands, too?”

  Images of Evonne’s battered body flashed into Dillon’s mind. “God help Laird Cameron if she has.”

  ****

  Connor glared at the fallen tree blocking his path. Its girth, like the trunks he tossed about during training, offered him a way to rid himself of anger. He hoisted and threw it a good distance ahead. It rolled down a mossy bank to again block his way.