Highlander's Choice

by Annis, Dawn

  “Aye.” She gave him a watery smile.

  “Och, ’tis meal enough.” On a lopsided shelf, he found an old pot and two dirty cups. He braved the cold to rinse them in a puddle.

  No the cleanest but the best I can do.

  The rain had turned to a wet mist. After scooping up some of the dirty water, he carried the pot into the hut and set it into the fire on the grate.

  Silent, Thea watched from her stool, her chin hitting her chest more than once.

  “Nay,” Callum scolded, shaking her. “Yer frozen. Ye canna sleep. We must get some warmth in ye.”

  The water started to boil. Callum put the dried meat into the pot, cut up the apples, and broke the bread in half.

  While she sat close to the fire, Callum made his way over to the bed and checked the linens. He stripped the bed and shook out the blankets, sending a mouse scurrying out of sight. While dusty, they would suffice.

  “Sweet, we need to get ye out o’ yer wet clothes.”

  Thea stood, her arms across her breasts, her eyes wide. “I am no sure I am ready. I want to be in yer arms, but no like this.”

  “Tonight is no the night, Thea. Dinna harm yerself with worries o’ me wantin’ anythin’ from ye other than a warm sleepin’ companion.”

  Thea licked her lips and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Callum slowly unbuttoned her shirt and eased her injured arm out of the sleeve. He helped her out of her breeks, the wet fabric clinging to her long, slim legs. Callum sucked in a breath and had to take moment, staring at her feet. His eyes traveled the length of her body until he reached her face. Her teeth chattered.

  “Och, my love, I am three kinds o’ a bastard.” He stood, wrapped her in a blanket, and led her back to her stool.

  Thea reached out and cupped his face. “’Tis no that I mind the daydream, but I am a bit chilled, and I havena changed my mind.” Her lower lip trembled.

  “Aye, o’ course.”

  Feeling guilty, Callum brushed off the stool, draped another blanket over Thea, and sat her down. In his haste, he grabbed the handle of the pot.

  “Son o’ a righteous bitch,” he yelled. He set the pot on the floor, the food too precious for him to drop it.

  “Are ye all right?” Thea leaned to see around him.

  “Nay,” Callum grumbled. “I will be.”

  Gingerly, he grabbed the hem of his long shirt with his other hand and poured the beef broth into the two cups. Handing a cup to Thea, he cajoled, “Dip yer bread in the broth. ’Twill give yer belly somethin’ to chew on.”

  Thea obeyed. With each bite, color returned to her cheeks and lips. He chuckled as she snuggled herself farther into the blanket, slurping while she ate. He, too, felt the chill leave and warmth set in, his stomach no longer gnawing at his spine.

  Once they finished the broth and apples, she was alert but tired.

  Callum examined the wrappings around her arm, turning it from side to side. Thea hissed through her teeth.

  “’Tis burnin’ like fire. I hope the bastard rots.”

  With nothing more than the strip of Dougal’s plaid to dress the wound, Callum left it bandaged until they could reach a healer.

  “We will leave it be for now. I canna do anythin’ to make the pain go awa’.”

  Callum laid her in the bed, making sure the blanket covered her.

  He stripped, hung their clothes close to the fire, and joined her. Thea curled up beside him and sought his warmth. She wept, and Callum held her.

  “’Twill be all right, my love,” he soothed, his lips against her wet hair. “’Twill be all right.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Warm for the first time in days, Thea awoke content. She rubbed her hand over her eyes and through her hair. Callum had curled her into his body, his powerful bicep laying across her breasts. She had dreamed of being in his arms so many times. She turned to face him. He opened one bleary eye.

  “Where are ye goin’, lass. Ye have left a chilly spot."

  Thea giggled.

  “Aye, ’tis just as well. We must be on the road.” Callum rubbed the whiskers on his chin.

  Thea sat up, wrapping one of the thin blankets around her, still warm from his heat.

  With a tender touch, Callum leaned in, his long fingers caressing her face. He kissed Thea deeply. She reveled in his taste as their tongues danced. She had been kissed before. Hell and damnation, suitors had tried but none had succeeded to move her heart. Thrilled to her toes, Thea felt her heart sing.

  “Callum,” Thea’s voice breathless with desire, outweighing apprehension.

  He smiled as he admired each inch of her body. “Checkin’ for damage,” he said as he kissed each bruise and scowled at each scrape.

  “I will be forever grateful to Dougal for steppin’ in when I couldna,” he said softly. “I love ye, Thea. The thought o’ losin’ ye is more than I can bear.”

  “I love ye, Callum. Ye saved me. How can I thank ye for followin’ such a foolish lass?”

  Callum turned Thea to fit into the crook of his arm. He kissed her so tenderly, so gently. He moved to her brow, her cheeks, along her jaw. “Dinna ever leave me. Dinna put yerself in danger agin. Come to me, whatever yer fears. I will care for them as if they were my own.”

  He touched her arm gently. “Ye need a healer. We must get ye home. Are ye cold?”

  “Nay,” Thea murmured, a ghost of a smile on her face. Her arm hurt like the devil himself. She was light-headed but didn’t know if it was from her blood loss or hunger.

  Callum bent his head and kissed her. “Ready to rise?”

  “Aye, but I long for a meal and a bath.”

  “Ye shall have both, my love.”

  Callum rose from the bed. Thea lowered her head but peeked at his naked body. Her brother’s kilts had been known to fly up in a gust of wind at times, so she knew all the parts of a man, but seeing Callum made her body yearn. She wasn’t sure how to handle such a feeling on top of all else, so she buried her head in her arms and pretended not to notice.

  Callum hurried over to what was left of the fire and took their clothes from the makeshift line he’d strung up the night before.

  Stepping into his breeks and pulling on his long shirt, he said, “We havena more to eat, and we will be on the road longer than what I care to. Soldiers on both sides will be dangerous though the battle has long been fought.”

  He handed her clothes to her and stepped over to the door. “The mist has cleared.”

  “Aye, we have that goin’ for us.” Thea grinned.

  Callum returned with a grin of his own. “’Twill be easier ridin’ home.”

  Thea slipped into her damp clothes. Kissing him fiercely, she put her hand on his strong chest and nuzzled into his shoulder.

  Callum rested his chin on the top of her head. He put her at arm’s length and, too soon, let his arm drop.

  “I will check on the horse.” He moved toward the door.

  Thea stepped outside the door and watched as he walked the few feet to the makeshift stable.

  “The horse appears to be no the worse for wear and able to carry us on to Dunvegan,” Callum called as he led the animal to the door.

  Thea ducked back into the hut and gathered their scarce belongings. The blanket covering them the night before was still damp. She collected the worn blankets from the bed to shield them for the frigid ride to Dunvegan. She wanted to go home, but deep down she had a longing to stay in the warmth of the hut. She knew to stay didn’t make sense, but not much in her life did right now. She hung on to longing of lying in her own bed until she could erase the images of the battle from her mind.

  Callum brought her into his arms and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. With his hand, he brushed her cheek, catching a lock of hair. He t
ucked it behind her ear.

  They left the hut that had saved them. The horse stamped its feet and sidled away from Callum, showing his displeasure.

  Callum said in his ear, “A warm stall and a bag full o’ oats waits for yerself. Carry us on a bit farther, and I will see to it m’self.”

  Thea leaned forward. “Are ye makin’ the same promise to me?”

  Callum chuckled. “Just as soon as I get the horse fed.”

  Thea laughed, the taut feeling across her chest loosening. “Och, ye devil.”

  Chapter 14

  After helping Thea onto the horse, Callum climbed up behind her. He guided the horse toward the MacLeod seat. Thea pulled close the damp blanket Callum had used to cover them, though it offered little protection as it began to rain. Soon, they were soaked to the bone, hunched against the cold. Callum wrapped his arms around Thea. Together they would keep each other warm.

  “Are ye fair, lass?”

  “Aye. ’Tis cold but yer warmth is a blessin’. I am sore, tired, and hungry and in need o’ a bath. ’Tis no a complaint, mind ye, just sharin’ my hopes.”

  Chuckling, Callum replied, “Aye, me as well.” He paused a moment, thinking of what lay ahead of them. “I feart ye will no receive any o’ those hopes too soon. Yer family and mine will want to ken the truth o’ the battle and journey home. Yer sire will be most interested in what happened at Culloden and the MacDonalds.”

  “Aye.” Thea’s shoulders slumped.

  Callum loosened his hold and peeked around the blanket to see her face. “’Twill be all right, my love.”

  “I ken. ’Tis so much to tell. Some o’ which I am no verra proud o’.”

  “No worries. I will stand by yer side.”

  Thea leaned back into Callum. He tightened his hold once more. Shite. How would Thea’s family react? Not to her kidnapping, but to her chasing after Fendrel in the first place. Certain once the joy of seeing her alive wore off, it would be replaced with reprimand. He would defend her if necessary to her family, particularly Simon, who would be harsh.

  He had problems as well. He, too, had left half-cocked without waiting for help in his rush to get to Thea. However, as the laird, he had responsibilities to those around him. Ah, ballocks.

  Riders from the border met them and saluted greetings. Callum waved them on. They rode off in a hurry to report he and Thea were coming in.

  As Callum and Thea entered the gate, the MacNichol and his sons met them. Hadrian pulled his sister from the horse, rocking her in his arms before setting her on the ground. Callum swung his leg off the horse, met by Fiona and Lettie as his feet touched the ground.

  Fiona pulled her son into a loving hug. “Lad, I was sure as the devil himself we had lost ye,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. She leaned away. “Where have ye been?”

  “Maw, dinna scold. I will tell it all to ye. Give me a moment.”

  “Och, a moment is all ye will have from me. I have gone from worryin’ m’self to the grave to anger at yer idiocy.”

  Callum frowned. “I canna fault ye.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his other around Lettie.

  “I worried for ye, brother, but I am angered at yer foolishness.” Lettie crossed her arms. “No to wait for help. Pure feebleminded.”

  Startled by the usually quiet Lettie, he replied, “Aye, I ken. I apologize for yer worry and yer anger.”

  Lettie raised on her toes and bussed his cheek. “Mind, dinna repeat such a daft idea, or ’twill no be only Prince Charlie after yer arse.”

  Callum’s eyes widened as he contemplated her upturned face. She gave him a demure smile, stepped out from under his arm, and made her way toward the Dunvegan hall. He stared after her, surprised his wee sister held a warrior in her heart. In the coming days, she may need it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Overwhelmed with the commotion surrounding Callum and herself, Thea barely got a breath before she stood in front of five brothers and her da. Their faces were filled with worry, anger, and relief. Even Timothy had tears in his eyes when he reached out to touch her cheek, almost as if to be sure she was truly there. Her da engulfed her with his arms and held on.

  “I thought I had lost ye, lass. Yer maw would never have forgiven me, God rest her soul.”

  Thea hissed in pain. Her arm throbbed. “Nay, ye dinna. I am home.”

  “Yer injured,” Anthol exclaimed.

  “We were overrun.”

  Simon, usually so gruff, took his turn at holding her. His gentle touch belied his usual harsh nature. “I couldna lived without ye, lass.”

  “No worries, Simon, for I am here.” Thea kissed his cheek.

  Simon cleared his throat and stepped back. “’Tis fine and good, lass. Ye will be hearin’ my opinion on the subject when my mind clears o’ the worry.”

  Geoffrey, next in line, his fine features though joyful revealed the lines of the worry she had caused. He put one arm around her and touched her lips when she tried to express her sorrow over having caused him pain. “Think nothin’ o’ it.” He kissed the top of her head and passed her on to Michael.

  Michael was the hardest to face. He had told her he would handle Fendrel, had told her not to get involved. She studied his brown eyes.

  “I am sorry I followed John Fendrel, brother. I should have trusted in ye.”

  “Nay, ’tis I who must beg yer forgiveness. I set ye aside and dinna include ye in my thoughts.”

  Thea wrapped her arms around him and felt his arms follow suit.

  “I needed one or two skills ye taught me when we were young. I was glad to have them.”

  Michael hugged her close. “It appears swordplay was one o’ them.”

  “Aye, I held my own until Dougal MacDonald could step in and help me.”

  Michael’s brows shot up. “I would keep that wee bit o’ news to m’self as long as possible. Our da will see no win in that.”

  “Aye,” Thea said, drawing comfort from his presence.

  Anthol strode up to Callum and took his hand. “How can I repay the debt I owe for bringin’ my lass home to her family?”

  “None is owed. Thea cared for me as I did for her.”

  “Aye, but there is the matter o’ was there a need in the first place.” Simon eyed Thea.

  “Though events may have taken a turn, without Thea we wouldna have the information needed to decide our fate. Come, let us go into the hall by the fire. Yer daughter is cold, and I have much to tell.”

  There were nods of agreement, and they entered the familiar hall. Callum reached Thea’s side and took hold of her hand. She closed her eyes and sighed her relief.

  Michael raised a brow in her direction. Thea nodded.

  The hall, bright and warm, brought immediate comfort to her tired and battered body. The smell of meat roasting had Thea’s mouth watering. The young lad turning the spit grinned at her. He’d forgotten his job more than once since their arrival, but the women of the clan gently took him to task. They, too, showed relief at the MacLeod’s return.

  The group moved to one of the trestle tables. Callum slipped his arm around Thea, silently urging her to sit next to him on the bench nearest the fire.

  Anthol had brought Isolde from the MacNichol seat. Once they were seated, she stepped up to Callum and Thea to examine their various cuts, in particular Thea’s arm. She glowered at the slash the sword had made. Tears ran down Thea’s face as Isolde probed the cut. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Thea tasted blood. She gave up and let out a pitiful moan.

  “Must be done. Hold still.” Isolde dug deeper and pulled out a sliver of steel. “Och, ye now will no have trouble healin’.” Adding sage, rosemary, and thyme to a cup of hot water, she cleansed in and around the area. She sprinkled marigold onto the wound and massaged it, then
wrapped Thea’s arm with clean linen. She handed Thea another cup filled with valerian tea. “’Twill help ye with the pain.”

  “Thank ye, Isolde.”

  The woman touched Thea’s cheek with her hand. After examining Callum, she took a place in the back of the hall.

  Fiona called for blankets and furs. Women scurried around the group with stew, roasted meat, and warm crusty bread. Lettie fussed over Callum and Thea, providing hot drinks. Thea tore into her food, tasting every morsel with earnest.

  Callum ate his own meal with as much enthusiasm. He called for more ale, eyeing his question to her. She nodded.

  Having eaten more than she should have, she burped softly.

  Damn it all to hell. I sound like a pig.

  Callum looked askance at her, and her face grew hot. He chuckled.

  Hot baths and clean clothes would have to wait, but at least they were dry.

  “Culloden was a complete defeat for the Highlanders.” Callum took a drink of ale. “The slaughter was thorough and devastatin’. Charlie ran before the end o’ the battle, leaving the clans with no leadership, no direction. Those who died at Culloden are too many to count.”

  “Och, the bastard,” Simon exclaimed.

  “I canna tell ye, but I expect some sort o’ retribution whether we were there or no.” He sighed. “The Sassenach will no be satisfied with the gain. They hunted the clansmen into the forest and beyond. I dinna doubt they are huntin’ the prince.”

  The MacNichol slammed his fist on the table. “The son o’ a whore. We are in it whether we like it or no.” Anthol pointed a shaky finger at Callum. “Ye stayed to witness and dinna get my lass to safety?”

  Thea spoke up, “Nay Da, we stayed to see. We had to ken for the clans’ sake.”

  “Aye, and now we do. We canna sit and wait for what may come,” Hadrian said.

  Frowning, Geoffrey sat forward, his arms resting on either side of his plate. “I will go to France. See if help will come from their quarter.”