by Annis, Dawn
“Aye, near as we can tell. Every so often a shot comes close. Dunno if ’tis the Sassenach or some fool lookin’ to get killed,” Dougal replied. “Makes no mind to me. I want no part o’ it. I will fight if needs be, but we have been on a fool’s errand and followed a fool.” He spit his bitterness on the ground.
“I am no sure I want the English followin’ me.”
Dougal stood with his legs wide and rubbed the back of his neck. “I ken ye dinna want it, but they are any way ye slice it. Yer a Scot, and ’tis all they will be thinkin’.”
“’Tis true,” Edmund agreed.
Alister nodded his opinion.
While Callum talked to the other men, Thea released his arm and made her way toward Willie. Callum stopped her by clasping her arm, but she turned and gave him a grim smile. He let her go. Kneeling next to Willie, Thea brushed a dirty lock of hair from his forehead.
“A wee bit o’ water?” His eyes were filled with such pain.
Thea scrambled up to the waiting horse and returned with the water skin. She hurried over to the man and got on her knees. Bending over him to shield him from the rain, Thea lifted his head as he took a sip. He coughed, and his face twisted in agony. She wiped his mouth with the end of her shirt.
“I thank ye, lass.”
“Aye. What else can I do for ye?”
“Cold,” Willie said as he shivered.
Thea wrapped his plaid around him as tight as she dared. While wet, the wool would still warm him.
She patted Willie on the shoulder and joined Callum.
“I believe we can travel together,” Callum said to Dougal. “Ye make a good argument, and ’tis true I mayhap have a need for ye.”
“No to trouble ye further, but we will no make the whole o’ it unless ye help us to our clan seat,” Alister spoke up.
Thea saw the plea in Alister’s eyes, one he could not bring himself to say aloud.
“Yer dame and I are no on friendly terms, and ye ken it to be true.” Callum wiped his forehead with the back of his grimy hand.
“Nay,” Dougal said. “The MacDonald is a reasonable woman. She will see the right o’ it.”
Callum studied the ground for a moment. “Reason has no been my experience with her. She acts before she thinks. ’Twas true when my da dealt with her, and it continues to be true. Charlie led ye to slaughter due to yer dame.”
“MacLeod, while ’tis true we have need o’ ye, I take grave exception to yer words aginst our MacDonald.” Edmund frowned. “’Tis my belief we can help one another, but if ye dinna mind, let us leave the politicin’ out o’ it.”
“Aye.” Callum reached past Dougal and clasped Edmund’s extended arm. They shook on their mutual need. “I will agree to get ye home. I canna promise to deliver.”
Callum and Dougal helped Willie and Alister onto the horse while Edmund held the mare steady. Two grown men were a heavy burden. Thea patted the horse’s neck and whispered soothing words, worried she wouldn’t be able to carry the men to their destination.
The mare clopped her way through the wooded hills, led by Callum, his hand in Thea’s. Alister followed, clinging to Willie, preventing him from falling as they rode. Dougal and Edmund limped along as they could.
Eventually, the group came out of the trees onto a slope. The rain stopped, allowing the Highland mists to form. A swathe of bluebells grew in the tall grass. Thea marveled at the sight of such simple beauty amid so much pain and destruction.
Callum let her go when she bent to pick a single flower. She held it to her nose and tucked it in her pocket. A talisman? Mayhap.
Her hand in his, Thea walked alongside Callum. His grip tightened now and then. Comforted, she squeezed back. She watched the men scan their surroundings, all of them on constant guard.
Callum and the MacDonalds made little sound as they moved from fields to woodlands, moors to trees. They avoided the paths and trails. Their only concession was to stay on terrain the horse could manage.
Thea looked at the men riding. Willie had his fist stuffed in his mouth lest he make a sound. Alister, riding behind, stuffed a bit of his friend’s tartan into his. Her heart hurt at the pain these men must be suffering to resort to such an action.
Thrashing sounds brought them to a halt. The men scattered, their broadswords drawn with a zing of the blades. Callum shoved the reins at Thea, and she set herself between a tree and the horse with the men atop. She did as the men and bit down on her own tight fist to keep a sob of terror from escaping. Hell, once again, had found them. Would it ever stop? Alister reached down and, with a bloody hand, held hers. The gesture of comfort surprised her and caused her throat to ache.
There was no cry of battle, only the clang of metal against metal. Thea listened intently, her heart pounding.
A shot rang out.
Thea jumped, but the man’s gentle grip tightened. He looked down at her, his eyes telling her to be still and quiet. The horse sidestepped. Thea held onto the reins with a firm hand. Alister patted the horse’s neck and stroked its ears with his other hand. Willie lay across the mare’s shoulders oblivious to the fight. Mercy had rendered him unconscious.
The forest became silent, unnerving. Thea’s heart skittered in her chest. Just when she couldn’t stand the wait any longer, Callum, Dougal, and Edmund stepped from the trees.
Before she glanced at the other men, Thea hurried around the horse and into Callum’s arms. “Are ye all right?” She patted down his chest and arms, checking for a wound, even a scratch.
“‘Tis fine,” Callum replied, taking hold of her hands.
Thea turned to the other men. Dougal bled from a slice on his arm, the blood dripping off his hand and onto the forest floor. A lesser cut sliced him across his chest.
“Let me help ye, Dougal.” She gathered leaves to stop the blood and made a quick bandage. “Callum, cut a strip from his tartan.”
Thea bound the man’s arm. They needed Dougal on his feet. They couldn’t afford another wounded man. Thea hated to have such little charity for him, but it was true. The journey had proven perilous. She and Callum needed Dougal to help get them home. She started to bind up his chest wound, and Callum grabbed her hand.
“Leave it, lass. ’Tis a scratch, nothin’ more.”
Thea nodded, and he let her go. He stood with his arms across his chest. “Ye are no their nursemaid,” Callum said through clenched teeth.
“I ken, but I am no goin’ to let them suffer.”
“I dinna care if they suffer, Thea. They are a means to get ye home.”
Ignoring Callum’s words, Thea stood with her hands on her hips and changed the subject. “What happened when ye left us?”
“I will no tell ye, so leave it be,” Callum said, his mouth grim.
Her bravado quickly left her. What would she have done if Callum had been hurt? She could not live without his steady care for her. While she had been near the horrible battlefield sure she would die, he’d come for her. She would be alone if something were to happen to him. She loved him.
Callum reached over, put his hand at the small of her back, and pulled her close. Taking her in his arms, he gave her a quick peck on her dirty cheek and brought her chin up so her eyes could meet his.
“’Twill be all right, lass. ’Twill be all right.” He hugged her and rested her head upon his shoulder.
Thea’s stomach filled with butterflies. “I love ye, Callum,” she whispered.
“Aye.”
He hadn’t returned her words with loving ones of his own. He cared for her, but was her foolishness too much for him to bear? He would get her home, she had no doubt, but where would their spark be then?
They came to a small rocky slope where the mare’s hind hooves slid. The horse fought to maintain her footing, tossing the men side to
side. Moans escaped both of the injured men. Callum led the horse as they all inched their way to the bottom of the slippery hill. When they reached level ground, Callum examined the site.
“Here might be a place to stop. There are walls o’ such on three sides o’ us. A good place to defend, if need be.”
“Aye,” Dougal agreed. “We canna go on much longer. If we dinna make a fire and stay quiet, we might take a wee rest.” He moved out from the group. “I will keep the watch.”
“I will get the lads settled,” Edmund said as he headed toward the horse.
“May I have yer knife to cut some o’ these branches?” Thea asked, looking down, unable to meet his eyes after declaring her love. Had women before her received the same indifference to their claims? Simon’s warning came back to her. The man is a rogue and a gambler.
Callum handed her the knife, and Thea cut branches from the small shrubbery surrounding them. She concentrated on her task as she grabbed a fallen fir tree branch and swept the area clean of smaller rocks and pebbles. After arranging the rocks and branches the best she could for beds for them, she stood back and surveyed her work. Callum helped Edmund take the men off the horse and set them amongst the rocks and firs.
“There ye are, Willie. No a soft spot to rest yer head, but one nonetheless.”
Willie gave Edmund a weak smile and shifted to find a comfortable spot.
Callum and Dougal followed with Alister covered in blood.
Shocked, Thea hurried over to him. “Is there somethin’ I can do for ye?” she asked, alarmed by his pale face and appearance.
“A wee drink would do the trick.”
Thea checked the water bag hanging on the side of the saddle, it was nearly empty. She searched the horse’s saddlebags and found a welcomed prize.
“Whiskey?” she asked.
Alister chuckled. “’Twill do nicely, lass.”
Thea soon realized Willie’s blood coated the front of Alister, not his own. His was a leg wound. A cannon ball had crushed his thigh bone.
Thea shuddered to think of the white-hot pain he must have endured. She stepped over to Willie, lifted his head, and offered a drink. Willie took a strong pull off the bottle.
“Would ye like a bit o’ whiskey?” She offered the bottle to Edmund who took two swigs and handed it back. She took a long drink herself and gave the bottle to Callum who passed it to Dougal when he was finished. All of them had a bit more color in their faces and felt a bit warmer.
Callum left the saddle on the horse in case they had to leave the area quickly. After unstrapping the blanket roll, he moved over to Thea lying in the fir branch. He spread the blanket over her.
“Nay, ye have need o’ it, too,” she protested.
“MacLeod, share it with the lass. We have our tartans. I see ye are without yers,” Dougal spoke in a low voice.
With Dougal’s help, they covered the two injured men with their tartans. The men bunched together as much for comfort as warmth. Dougal sat a short distance from the group as he stood first watch, his body hunched against the cold.
~ ~ ~
Callum tucked Thea in the crook of his shoulder, adding his body heat to hers. She tensed.
“Thea, let yerself be comfortable. I will no bite,” Callum grumbled.
“Aye, I ken.” She turned her back to him, keeping enough space between them while staying warm. She may be questioning his motives, but she wasn’t a fool.
“Get some sleep. We will be up and movin’ quick enough. We will no stay here long.”
He watched her shoulders grow heavy and chuckled when he heard a light snore. Moving a small rock from underneath his back, Callum closed his eyes. Sleep eluded him. His thoughts centered on all of the events since he had left London to get away from Lady Monforte and to come home to his dying father.
He’d landed on the Isle of Skye with a single thought, to refuse to become laird. His determination had been clear. A struggle of choice he had not wanted to share until he met the woman in his arms. He loved her. He did not know when it had happened, but he couldn’t go another day without seeing her smile, hearing her laughter, or even listening to the snores. Earlier, he hadn’t returned her sentiment, not wanting to give their traveling companions any signs of weakness. They were a necessity to one another right now, but circumstances could change at any time.
Whether he liked it or not, he was laird of his clan and septs. They were his responsibility and, oddly, one he was wholeheartedly willing to take on. Because of Torquil MacLeod’s training, he could. In so many ways, he surprised himself. Hell, a man claiming to be the rightful king had shown up at his door.
I have proven I can be the Laird MacLeod to m’self already.
Musket fire startled him. Jumping to his feet, Callum shoved Thea under the fir branches. She huddled in the blanket, eyes wide. He motioned with his hand for her to stay down. Edmund crouched and made his way toward Dougal.
What now? What could possibly be goin’ on now?
Callum glanced at the injured men. Alister, wide awake, turned toward Willie and laid across him as a shield.
A horse neighed.
Moving low, Dougal ran toward camp. “They be fightin’ over a wagon.”
“Who?”
“No sure, but they are clansmen. They ain’t English.” Dougal spit. “Scots fightin’ Scots. So tired o’ it my belly aches.”
“No a fight I want to join,” Edmund said.
“Nay,” Callum agreed. He didn’t want to fight another Scotsman. He’d made it clear in the beginning he wasn’t going to fight with Charles, the Sassenach, nor other Scots. In one way or another, he had done all three, and he was bone weary.
“Nay, but I would sure like a wagon.” Dougal looked longingly in the direction of the shots.
“D’ye think the winner would share?” Edmund piped up.
“No likely,” Dougal said as he spit again. “I be damn tired o’ it. I have a need to get my clansmen home. The wagon would get me one step closer.”
They listened until the battle ended.
“Shall we see who the winner is?” Dougal stood.
Callum gave a quick nod. He and Edmund followed Dougal and peered through the brush. In the predawn light, they saw one lone man calming a horse hitched to a wagon. His tartan was too dirty to tell whose clan he belonged to. Blood pooled around the dead lying on the ground around him while the man rubbed the horse’s nose and cooed. As they stepped out of the bushes, Callum glanced at Dougal. The man turned toward them and reached for his weapon. Realizing he had none in his belt, he returned to talking quietly to the horse.
Dougal lifted his brow in question to Callum. Weapons were scattered on the ground around them.
With slow, smooth movements, Callum eased toward the man. He didn’t want to spook the horse or the man. Once he got as close as he thought he could, he inspected the man’s tartan.
“’Tis a Cameron.” Callum showed Dougal the spot on the man’s tartan he’d rubbed clean.
“His mind is gone,” Dougal said. Stepping over to the wagon, he looked inside. “’Twill hold all o’ us includin’ him.”
Edmund bent and grabbed a battle axe and two broad swords. The three men lying on the ground would have no need for them now. Edmund hefted the battle axe and said, “I have an admiration for his skill despite his confused state.”
Callum agreed. “’Tis because o’ his confused state we canna leave him.”
Returning to their small camp, Callum noticed Alister still covered Willie. When Callum indicated the all clear, he inched his way off the injured man.
“Is everythin’ all right?” Thea stood, worry on her brow.
Callum placed his hands on her shoulders. “’Tis fine now. ’Twas a fight over a wagon. Several men were kil
led.”
“I have had enough o’ death as I can handle, Callum.”
Callum wrapped her in his arms.
Poor lass. She had come through the ordeal braw, but there was only so much a person could take.
He held her, willing more strength into her. “A wee bit more, Thea. A wee bit more.”
Thea clung to his shoulder for a moment, sniffed, lifted her head, and wiped her face. “What do we do from here?”
Lord, he was proud of her. She would hang on as long as he needed her to, he was sure.
Dougal came back to their camp, leading the horse and wagon, the man from the Cameron clan aimlessly following behind. Together, Callum and Dougal gathered the green fir boughs, leaving the dried needles behind. Edmund hitched up the mare to the wagon alongside the other horse.
Willie had worsened during the night. Callum picked up his shoulders and Dougal caught his feet. They loaded him into the wagon as gently as they could. Leaning heavily on Edmund, Alister followed and lay in the bed of the wagon alongside Willie. Dougal and Edmund sat on the back edge with the Cameron clansman. The three agreed they didn’t want him near Thea, and should he prove a threat to any of them, Dougal would kill him.
Callum and Thea rode in the front, guiding the horses onto the trail. Trading stealth for swiftness, Callum was determined to see Thea safe and the men home.
Woe to anyone with the idea o’ takin’ this wagon from me.
The woods they traveled eventually opened onto grassy fields. Taking turns with Dougal in driving the horses, they made minimal stops.
My goal is to get to Clan MacDonald. I can only hope the Dame MacDonald will be as grateful as her men seem to think. My generosity may be the death o’ us.
Chapter 12
Observed by the Cameron scouts since setting foot on their land, Callum and his group never lost sight of the ever-present followers. The scouts had not approached them but made themselves known nonetheless.