Highlander's Choice

by Annis, Dawn

  They arrived sore, dirty, and hungry to the Cameron seat, Callum’s nerves on edge. Chickens and geese squawked with indignation as he drove the wagon through the gates, into the muddy keep, and stopped at the hall door. He couldn’t be sure of his welcome. Surely the Cameron heard of Callum’s decision not to involve his clans in Charlie Stuart’s fight. News in the Highlands traveled quickly. Regardless, he would not allow his trepidation of the laird’s reaction stop him from delivering the clansman to his family.

  The men of the Cameron clan surrounded them, two of them helping their man off of the wagon and leading him inside. Dougal and Edmund slid off the back.

  “MacLeod, I dinna think yer words would be heard just yet. Stay in the wagon with Thea. I will see to Himself and gauge the mood.”

  Callum agreed with Dougal. As soon as Dougal and Edmund disappeared inside the hall, he turned to Thea.

  “D’ye think we can trust him? He could denounce ye as a traitor to Charles,” Thea speculated.

  “He could, but he will no,” Alister said, lying in the back of the wagon. “He needs ye, MacLeod, and yer help. Besides, we MacDonalds are men o’ our word.”

  “’Tis no been my experience with the MacDonalds,” Callum replied. “Quite the opposite.”

  “Och, ye canna hold the past agin us.” Alister coughed. “We were no doin’ a thing ye and the MacNichols were no doin’ to us.”

  Thea stiffened. “I beg to differ with ye, Alister MacDonald.”

  Callum touched her arm lightly. She gave her best smile to the clansmen and women surrounding them.

  Callum watched the Cameron people. They stood their distance. They would not approach without their laird’s consent.

  My people wouldna offer comfort o’ any kind without my givin’ the command.

  Willie moaned.

  “He’s wakin’ up, poor lad. He found a wee bit o’ ease while he slept.” Alister tucked one of the blankets closer around Willie.

  “Yer in sorry shape yerself.” Callum glanced over his shoulder, and then continued to scan the crowd. “The rain dinna help. We must get ye inside.”

  The wet blanket Thea had tugged around herself wouldn’t keep her warm. How long should he wait?

  “Damnation, enough. I canna sit here in the rain and let us all catch our death when warmth and food are close by.” Callum stood and jumped from the wagon.

  “I dinna think the idea ye have is a good one. Ye could verra easily get yerself killed,” Alister cautioned as he raised up on his elbow and peeked over the sideboards. Blood mixed with rain ran freely down his face.

  Moving toward Alister, Callum grasped his hand. “I canna let it go on.”

  He turned and strode toward the door to the hall. Men of the clan stepped in front of him and refused to let him pass. He stood, hand on the hilt of his sword, daring the nearest clansman to stop him. They stared at one another, sizing each other up. The doors opened, and Dougal stepped out, ceasing the hostilities for the moment.

  “Step aside, lads. We are welcome here.” Dougal forged through the men at the door. He pushed aside the others surrounding the wagon. “Ye.” He pointed to four men. “We canna carry them alone. Lend a hand.”

  The clansmen glanced at one another but didn’t move. Then one by one they stalked to the wagon. They made cutting remarks to each another, but a few dashed into one of the barns, returning with two wide planks. With Callum and Dougal’s help, the men placed Alister and Willie on the planks and carried them into the hall. Thea accepted help from another to step off of the wagon, landing in the sticky mud. Several women took over from there and led her out of the rain.

  They placed the plank Willie rested upon on the table a woman indicated. Callum put his hand in Willie’s. There was no response. The young man had slipped into a forgiving unconsciousness.

  “’Twill be all right, lad. Yer safe and will soon be warm,” Callum said, knowing the man couldn’t hear but hoping.

  “Ye.” The Cameron pointed his finger at Callum. “Ye dirty, filthy bastard. How dare ye show yer face here, MacLeod.”

  Callum straightened, turned, and faced the Laird Cameron.

  “Aye, news travels fast in the Highlands. I ken about yer da and the fact his full o’ shite lad is now the MacLeod.” The Cameron spit into the fire; it sizzled.

  “Becomin’ the Laird o’ Clan MacLeod was my choice no yers.”

  “What brings ye here where ye ain’t wanted?”

  “We found yer man near the battlefield. He wouldna made it home had we no brought him. ‘Twas no right to leave him.”

  “I have been told the lad is addled, sure enough. His clansmen lost track o’ him in the fray. Mark my words, he would have found his way home without ye. My men were separated from me. They will arrive soon enough, and when they do, they will no have the leniency I have shown ye.”

  Callum took his gaze away from the Cameron long enough to search the hall for Thea. He found her by the fire, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a drink, steam rising from the cup. A woman hovered near her. Callum longed to join her. His thoughts were for the safety of the lass and to get them all home unscathed. He was cold, wet, and hungry, but he would not show the Cameron a weakness amongst a hostile clan. It would be the death of him and those he aimed to protect.

  “So, ye were at Culloden,” Callum stated as he eyed the laird. A coward to leave his men, his son.

  “Aye and proud to be so. I dinna see ye fightin’ amongst the loyal Scots.”

  “Nay, I dinna go there to fight. ’Twas never my intention. I have made m’self clear on the point. I will say to ye, ’twas the bloodiest fool’s errand I hope never to see agin in my lifetime.”

  The hall stilled, general conversation coming to a halt. People watched them, anticipating the next word. The men spoke amongst themselves, while keeping an eye on their laird and Callum, ready for a fight should there be a need.

  Two men took Willie from the great hall, up the stairs to parts unknown. Two women went along, fussing over him. A woman tended Alister in the corner, a knotted hide in his mouth. Sweat and blood poured down his face. A brief glance at Alister’s leg wound sickened Callum, the thigh muscle shredded and red. He wondered at the strength it took Alister to make the journey. Every bump, every scrape, must have been agony for him. Through it all, he’d given no indication of the true pain he’d been in.

  Edmund sat by the fire, eating a hot meal. He glanced furtively about the hall. He ate as though he expected someone would take his meal from him.

  Dougal stood a short distance away, listening to the exchange between Callum and the Cameron. His face reflected his anxiety. He fairly danced on his toes, waiting for an opportunity to step in and calm both men. The Cameron scowled.

  Dougal gained his courage and stepped up to the men. “The poor lad we brought in is yer son, is he no?”

  The Cameron stepped back. “Aye, he is. And a fine lad. A brave one, truth be told. He would have found his way home,” he repeated.

  “Nay. He wouldna. He killed three men and—”

  “My point. The lad can take care o’ himself.” The Cameron stood straight with his arms crossed and eyed Dougal.

  “Yer wrong. There somethin’ wrong in his head. ’Tis no right.”

  The Cameron stepped off his dais, grabbed Dougal by his bloody, tattered shirt. He thrust his face forward and put his bulbous nose to Dougal’s. “Watch yer tongue,” he bellowed while he slammed his foot on a chair and drew a dirk from his boot.

  Callum stayed the Cameron’s hand. “Halt. If nothin’ else, we are guests in yer home, unwanted as we may be.”

  The laird sneered. “From what I heard, yer a coward and wouldna follow our Bonnie Prince. Too English to join the righteous to put the rightful king on the throne?”

  “’Twas n
o a fight we Scots could win. What I saw on the battlefield was proof enough. We were outmanned, outnumbered, and outtrained. Anyone with a lick o’ sense could see the outcome before the battle began.” Callum’s chest heaved, the ignorance and blind trust overwhelmed him. Prince Charles Stuart was going to do nothing for these people. If anything, he would make their lives worse.

  “I will no take yer word for it if ye dinna mind. The words o’ a traitor means nothin’ to me. I will wait for the rest my own men to come home and tell me the truth o’ what they saw after I was forced into the woods.”

  “Wait, auld man. ’Tis up to ye. All I ask is for a hot meal and a place to rest our heads. We will be gone in the morn. I gave my word to the MacDonalds I would get them home.” He gave a quick nod to Dougal.

  “Ye dinna bother to come home until yer da died I heard.”

  Callum stood taller at those words. “’Tis true, I have spent these last years in England.”

  “Seekin’ for yer fortune no doubt. So now ye decided to come home to spend some o’ yer da’s.”

  He had been as insulted as a man could be. Callum spit his anger on the ground in front of the Cameron. “What was between my da and me was no another man’s business to judge. ’Tis no one’s affair.”

  Dougal gave Callum a look of sorrow, turned to the Cameron, and opened his mouth to speak but was stalled.

  “A true Scot would have been on the battlefield with his clansmen beside him,” the Cameron declared.

  “I no feart o’ dyin’, but what I saw at Culloden was no more than a slaughter. It chilled my verra bones. ’Twas daft to be there. The English forces were on the clans like flies on the horse dung ye step through every day.”

  “I dinna explain m’self to the likes o’ a coward. Ye dinna put yerself or yer men in harm’s way as I did for my king.”

  “He is no my king,” Callum stated simply.

  “Yer no welcome in my home. I dinna care where ye go, yer no welcome here.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Thea watched the argument from across the hall. Fat dripped from the beef on the spit and sizzled in the fire. The smell of roasting meat made her stomach rumble. Hopefully, they would resolve their disagreements. She wanted a hot bath, a meal, and a warm bed. She did not relish the idea of going out into the rain and resuming their long trek home if the two lairds could not come to a reckoning.

  Hannah, the woman who had helped her earlier with a warm drink headed toward her.

  “Do ye need anythin’ else, dearie? A plate o’ food?”

  Thea smiled. As much as the smell of the meal cooking appealed, she would eat when Callum ate. “Nay, I will wait for the MacLeod. I am fine, just droopy-eyed.”

  “Well, we will get ye fed and into a bed as soon as Himself has finished speakin’ to yer laird.”

  “When will it end? Two powerful men sizing each other up could go on all night.”

  “There is no tellin’,” Hannah said. She patted Thea’s back, took her empty cup, and filled it with more warm broth. “They will end it soon. Hopefully without bloodshed.”

  “Aye.” Thea could hear the doubt in her reply. She eyed the angry men. Hannah patted her once more and walked away.

  Thea ambled over to sit closer to the disagreement between the Cameron and Callum, wanting to see the argument end, hopefully to Callum’s benefit. If only there was something I could do. Exhausted, she had seen things no woman, nay, no one should see. The battles raged in her mind. Longing for sleep though she knew the battle and bloodied men would haunt her, she wanted to go home.

  Then there was Callum. She was anxious to have time alone with him, yet she felt like a fool.

  “I told him I loved him, and he dinna say a word. If a man loves a woman shouldna he say so?”

  After what they had been through, she couldn’t bear his silence on the matter one more minute. Would their time together be love, or would it be a terrible shared experience? Had he allowed me to cling to him for comfort through the horrible ordeal? Will he be done with me when safety finds us? With the English hunting us, I may never ken.

  Thea watched Callum argue with the laird. She realized her thoughts on love were that of a wee lass. Callum was a grown man, and it scared the hell out of her.

  And now, we are dealin’ with the Cameron. The bastard.

  She stood. Her hands balled in fists. Callum saw her and, with a slight movement, shook his head.

  Damn. The men are goin’ to talk themselves into a God Almighty brawl if they are no careful. Nay, I will no let it go on.

  She strode over to the men with purpose. When she reached them, she turned to the rheumy-eyed old man. He scowled. “What ye want, lass? Ain’t ye the MacNichol’s lass? He is a coward as well.”

  Callum stepped in front of her, shielding her. Gaining confidence, she stood her ground. Raising her voice, she pointed her finger at him over Callum’s shoulder.

  “I demand ye to stop actin’ as a horse’s arse and welcome us into yer home. We are cold and tired. We have fought long and hard to reach yer lands, to bring yer son home. If for that reason alone, ye should give us shelter. My da would if ye found yerself on the wrong side o’ a musket regardless o’ yer loyalties. And he is no coward.” Thea placed her hands on her hips, awaiting his answer.

  The Cameron stood there, shock on his face. He reached over and plucked her from behind Callum and put his arm around her.

  “I will no have ye harm . . .” Callum protested, grabbing the man’s shoulder.

  The old man raised his hand, silencing him. He led Thea to the hearth, his back to Callum.

  Callum and Dougal closely trailed behind.

  “Bugger me, ye are a sassy lass. Does yer da let ye get awa’ with speakin’ to yer elders in such a way?” the Cameron said, scowling.

  “My da is unaware o’ many o’ my faults. I mind he dinna see, ye can be sure.”

  “I dinna have a doubt.” He turned to Callum. “The wee lass is hungry, and I havena trouble with the MacNichol, though his politics differ from my own. For her sake, I will let her and the MacDonalds eat and bed down here. Ye can await them off my land.”

  “What?” Thea screeched. “Ye rotten auld bastard. Ye are a spiteful man aginst whom ye havena reason.” She reached behind her for Callum. Turning, she searched his eyes. Her stomach rumbled, and the warm broth she’d eaten threatened to come up. “I will go with ye. I dinna wish to be separated. I dinna want the auld man’s charity.”

  Callum rested his hand on her arm. “Here ye will receive shelter, food.”

  “Nay, she will no. If ’tis her desire to bed with a traitor and a coward, who am I to stop the lass?” The Cameron laird pointed a gnarly finger at Thea. “Ye will go with him.”

  Callum started toward the Cameron. Dougal stepped up.

  “My lord. The MacLeod has done us both a great favor. He has agreed to partner with us to see my injured clansmen home. He brought yer son home.”

  The Cameron studied Dougal. “A wise man would choose his friends better than what ye have.”

  Callum gathered up Thea and stalked toward the door.

  “No on my land. MacLeod,” the Cameron shouted as the door slammed.

  Thea glared at the castle and shook her fist. Bugger. Shite. Hell and damnation.

  Her father would not have treated anyone thusly. The Cameron’s actions were one more nail in what was becoming a large burden to bear. She felt its weight, but when she stomped out of the son of a bitch’s hall, new life flowed into her. She and Callum would make it home.

  One of the Cameron’s men followed Callum and Thea out the door. He pointed them in the right direction to the edge of Cameron seat, turned, and without a word, entered the hall.

  ~ ~ ~

  The horses had been put in the stables, an
d there was little chance Callum would be allowed to retrieve the mare. Callum and Thea approached the wagon, gathered what little belongings they had, and started down the hill to the road leading them off of the man’s property. There they would await Dougal and the rest of the MacDonald men. Callum considered the possibilities of leaving the MacDonalds to their own devices if it meant the two of them could arrive home faster. He was a man of his word, however, and had given it to Dougal.

  “My lord.”

  Callum’s hand went to his sword and turned at the woman’s voice.

  Thea clutched at Callum. “This is Hannah. I made her acquaintance inside.”

  “My lord,” the woman resumed. “My lady wishes ye to stay. While she canna say aginst her lord, the property was hers long before ’twas his. She wishes to say, Himself is no the only one capable o’ makin’ a decision.”

  “I canna risk bein’ found by yer lord.”

  “He is in his cups and will no be huntin’ for ye.” Hannah watched Callum, no fear in her eyes.

  She stepped back and handed several large bundles to Thea. “There is a shed. ’Tis the best my lady can do to avoid yer discovery.” She pointed down into the glen. “’Tis fair distance from the castle and sits behind a hill. Find it, and ye will find safety for the night.”

  “Thank ye, Hannah, for yer help,” Thea said as she kissed the woman’s hand.

  Callum leaned down and bussed the woman’s cheek. “I will no forget ye.”

  She blushed a deep red, turned on her heel, and was gone.

  Callum took one of the bundles from Thea, and they hurried through the outbuildings down to the fields in the direction Hanna had indicated. Callum’s breeks were wet to the knees, and he saw Thea’s were the same. They reached the small hill and searched. They found a dilapidated shed offering little more than an old roof and three walls to shelter them from the elements. Callum turned and winked at Thea, his burden lightened if only for a bit. It was preferable to sleeping out in the rain with no shelter at all. Thea frowned. He gave her a playful punch in the arm and hurried to the shed.