Highlander Lord of Fire

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Highlander Lord of Fire Page 7

by Donna Fletcher


  Tarass remembered Twilla from his time here and she was right. His dad had told him to trust Twilla above all else. That she knew things about the MacFiere clan, things she had given her word would remain unspoken. And she had kept her word to Tarass’s annoyance.

  “The snowstorm is too dangerous to send the men out to retrieve the body,” Tarass said.

  “If it is too dangerous for your men, then it is even more dangerous for others. The body will be left undisturbed and buried even deeper than it already is.”

  “I want to think that, but I can’t be sure. What if he wasn’t alone? What if others search for him?”

  “Unlikely in this snowstorm,” Twilla assured him. “Where had you gone and why wear the garments of your mum’s people?”

  “I had trading talks with a tribe and with the weather turning bad, I didn’t stop to change my garments,” he explained, something he didn’t do often, feeling he owed no one an explanation for anything. But Twilla had sacrificed for the clan and his da had talked about rewarding her upon their return home.

  “An excuse,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You prefer those garments over Highland garments. You do your da a dishonor by not wearing his plaid.”

  “I had forgotten how outspoken you are,” Tarass said with a slight shake of his head.

  “At my age, what difference does it make?” she said with a grin, sending her wrinkles folding into each other.

  “How do you get Rannock to tell you things he shouldn’t,” Tarass asked curious she had gotten his friend to talk.

  “I told him I’d find him a wife within a moon circle.”

  Tarass nodded. “Another thing I had forgotten… how you match people.”

  “It’s a gift the heavens gave me. I know when I see people who are meant to be together.” A sadness filled her face. “And I know when people are not meant to be together. It’s a shame when two people, who are wrong for each other, are forced to wed. Unfortunately, it happens more often than not.”

  “So who is meant for Rannock?” Tarass asked.

  Twilla smiled. “When the time is right, I’ll let you know.” Her smile grew. “I knew as soon as I saw your mum and da together that they were perfect for one another.”

  “They did love each other,” Tarass said, recalling memories of them. “They were always holding hands, smiling, laughing, whispering to each other. They had something special.”

  “Love. They were deeply in love. I’m sorry you lost them both, but one would have never wanted to live without the other,” Twilla said.

  “I know. I thought the same when I found them. The attack had been brutal. I don’t know how my mum and da found the strength to crawl to each other and grasp hands, but they did.”

  “Love. Love gave them strength.” Twilla sniffed back a tear as she stood and walked around the table. She placed her hand on Tarass’s arm. “Eat and rest, tomorrow is another day and hopefully the heavens will let me wake tomorrow.”

  Tarass laughed. “You’ve been saying that for as long as I can remember.”

  Twilla chuckled. “And I’m grateful the heavens have listened and continues to grant my request.”

  Tarass watched the old woman amble off, her gait not as slow as one would think for her eighty years.

  “Tarass,” she called out as she continued to the door. “So you are aware… you’ve already met your future wife. It’s a perfect match you’ll make, just like your mum and da.”

  Tarass stared after her, too stunned by her words to respond. His marriage would be a beneficial one, nothing like his mum and da’s loving marriage. He wanted power and wealth. It was key to surviving in this harsh world.

  Love had done little for his mum and da, though he had to admit he envied what they had shared. He had never seen anyone love with the strength and honor as his parents had. And he sometimes had wished he could find a love with the courage and conviction like theirs. But love such as theirs was rare and did not come along that often.

  You’ve already met your future wife.

  Twilla’s prediction had him glancing in the direction Snow had gone, and he shook his head. “Impossible. We’d kill each other.”

  He walked off, continuing to shake his head.

  Chapter 8

  “The wound does well as do your other less harmful wounds,” Runa said.

  “I appreciate you tending them.” Snow closed the soft wool robe, that had been left on the bed for her, more tightly around her.

  “I have heard what a talented healer your sister Willow is, I would love to meet and talk with her.”

  “I am sure she would enjoy visiting and learning from you.”

  Runa laughed softly. “I would be the one who learned from her. When Lord Winton, Tarass’s father, announced that he and his family would be returning to Scotland, he invited anyone interested in joining him to become part of Clan MacFiere. Tarass had made strong friendships and many young warriors chose to go because of him. while I had no thought to leave my home. The old healer who taught me urged me to go and learn the healing ways of this land, and return with new knowledge. I arrived with the second group who came here. Already I miss home.”

  Runa laughed again, a little tinkling laughter and it made Snow wonder over her appearance. From what she could judge, Runa was taller than her, but not by much, and she had a gentle touch and a soft voice. She sounded young and for some reason Snow thought, more sensed, she was pretty.

  “I have yet to speak with another healer, which is why I would very much enjoy meeting your sister.”

  “Willow will enjoy meeting you as well,” Snow said and was unable to stop a sudden yawn.

  “You need to rest and I need to return and see how the new bairn and exhausted mum is doing, the reason for my delay in seeing to you sooner. But you need not fret, as I said your wounds do well.”

  Nettle went to Snow as soon as the woman left. “Runa is a pretty one with long blonde hair and a gentle way about her. All the men chase after her.”

  Snow wondered if Nettle described Runa for her, since she was blind and couldn’t see the healer. Or if it was just her way about her. She did appreciate a description, it helped to picture the person in her mind when she spoke with them, instead of staring at a blurry shadow.

  “Runa says to rest, let me get you settled in bed.”

  “Not yet, Nettle, I need to dress and take Thaw out before I settle for the night,” Snow said and got a bark from Thaw. “He’s been patient but needs to see to his duty.”

  Thaw barked again as if in agreement.

  “I can take him out right after I settle you,” Nettle suggested.

  “I appreciate the offer, but he won’t leave me, not here in unfamiliar surroundings.”

  “He’ll come with me, he’s a good boy. Right, Thaw?” Nettle asked, casting the dog a smile. “Come on, Thaw,” she encouraged with a summoning pat to her side as she walked to the door. “Come on, we’ll go outside.”

  Thaw stared at her after parking himself between Snow’s legs.

  Nettle opened the bedchamber door. “Come on, Thaw, let’s go. We’ll be right back. Snow is safe here.”

  The dog didn’t budge.

  “What’s going on here?” Tarass demanded, causing both women to jump at his unexpected appearance.

  “Thaw has to see to his needs before settling for the night and he won’t go out without Snow, my lord,” Nettle was quick to explain.

  Tarass shook his head and walked toward Snow. “I saw Runa. She tells me you need rest, but otherwise you do well.”

  “Aye, and I will rest as soon as I see to Thaw,” Snow said and heard Thaw growl. “He’ll bite you if you reach for him,” Snow warned, knowing Tarass drew close by how loud Thaw’s growl was growing.

  “He can try,” Tarass challenged.

  Snow scooped Thaw up in her arms. “I need no help from you to see to my dog’s care.”

  “I wasn’t seeking permission,” Tarass said, trying no
t to glance down at the robe she wore. It was obvious she was naked beneath and he couldn’t stop the memories of her enticingly naked body from springing up in his mind.

  He stood close, his blurry image consuming the space in front of her, and she suddenly felt vulnerable as she had when she stood naked in front of him.

  “You are exhausted from your ordeal. I will take him outside and return him to you quickly. Tell him to go with me.”

  Snow realized Tarass was reminding her of the cottage when Thaw had gone with him after she had commanded the dog to go. Thaw had to go out and she needed Tarass to leave. She kissed the dog’s snout and in a firm voice, ordered, “Go with Tarass, Thaw. He will take you out and bring you back to me. I am safe here. Now go with Tarass while I wait for you to return.” She kissed him again, then placed him on the floor.

  “Come with me, Thaw,” Tarass commanded and the dog looked to Snow. “He looks to you.”

  “Go now, Thaw, and hurry back to me,” Snow ordered.

  Thaw gave a bark, walked in front of Tarass, then looked back as if letting him know he was ready to go.

  “I’ll have him back shortly,” Tarass said, letting her know they were leaving. “Nettle, get her settled in bed, then bring her a hot brew.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Nettle said and closed the door behind him and Thaw.

  “Lord Tarass is such a handsome man. All the unwed women want him, but he has made it clear that he will wed to benefit the clan. A few don’t care and warm his bed anyway. Tongues wag that there is no one woman that can please him, his appetite for coupling too great for a single woman to satisfy.”

  Snow realized now why Nettle was told to hold her tongue, she had a wagging tongue and could keep nothing she heard to herself. She had to smile, since at the moment that suited Snow just fine. Not that she needed to know about Tarass’s thirst for coupling. She cared not who he coupled with, though she did feel sorry for his future wife unless of course the woman wouldn’t care. She, on the other hand, would not want a husband who wasn’t faithful. It would mean he did not love or respect her enough to be an honorable husband.

  She had no worries, though. She and Tarass would never be husband and wife.

  Tarass stood wrapped in his fur-lined cloak. The wind was strong and the snow fell heavily and surprisingly, Thaw was taking his time seeing to his needs.

  “He prowls to learn the lay of the land,” Rannock said as he approached Tarass. “He’s got good instincts about him for a runt.”

  Thaw’s head snapped to the right and he let loose with such an angry growl that it had both men’s brows shooting up.

  “I don’t think he cares for you calling him a runt,” Tarass said with a chuckle.

  “I apologize,” Rannock said with a bob of his head at the pup. “Anyone named after the god Thor should be treated with respect.”

  Tarass held back the laughter that rumbled up in him. If his clan wanted to believe the pup was named after Thor, so be it. Though, why they believed a Highland woman would name her dog after a Norse god he’d never understand.

  “The men are ready to go as soon as the snow slows,” Rannock said, turning his attention to Tarass.

  “With night fallen, tomorrow will be soon enough. Unless it worsens overnight. If so, the retrieval of the body will have to wait for another time.”

  “At least the snow will keep it hidden.”

  “While the men are out there, widen your search some and see if you come upon two horses and another body,” Tarass ordered.

  “Another body? Horses? What goes on, Tarass?”

  “Snow was on her way home when the snowstorm hit. From what she could tell, the man escorting her suffered a sudden death and the horses got away from her.”

  “So you found her wandering aimlessly around in the snowstorm?” Rannock asked.

  “I did.”

  Rannock rubbed at his chin and his eyes narrowed. “You brought her straight here?”

  “No questions, Rannock,” he ordered.

  Rannock’s brow shot up. “I understand.”

  “So Twilla is finding you a wife,” Tarass said and watched Rannock’s cheeks burn bright red. The man was thick-chested, with arm muscles that his shirt had difficulty containing, good features, long, flaxen colored hair, and a scar that ran along the one side of his jaw, not to mention the various scars on other parts of his body, proof of what a ferocious warrior he was. But when it came to women, he was a complete failure.

  Rannock’s head hung low as he spoke as if he was about to admit to a horrendous crime. “I have no choice. You know better than anyone how difficult it is for me to speak to a woman.”

  “You mean to speak to a woman you think might make a good wife, since I know firsthand you have no trouble speaking to a woman otherwise.”

  Rannock rubbed at his chin, this time more roughly. “My tongue gets tied in knots. It’s a curse. That’s what it is a curse.”

  “Did you tell Twilla that you like Runa?” Tarass asked, casting a glance at Thaw, still taking his time.

  “She’d have no interest in me,” Rannock said, shaking his head to confirm his words to himself.

  “You don’t know if you don’t try.”

  “And what of you, Tarass? Don’t you want someone in your bed who wants to be there?” Rannock asked.

  “I want what’s best for this clan.”

  “What’s best for this clan is to have a leader who has a wife who gives him lots of bairns and lots of love.”

  “I don’t need advice from you,” Tarass warned.

  “I give it whether you want it or not. I always have and I always will, and you know that.” Rannock reminded.

  Tempering his annoyance, Tarass said, “And I count on it, my friend.”

  Thaw barked as he ran toward Tarass.

  “All done?” he asked the pup without thinking.

  Thaw barked and looked toward the keep, then barked again.

  “We’ll speak in the morning, Rannock,” Tarass said and turned toward the keep.

  Thaw bolted up the stairs and was in the room and on the bed curled beside a sleeping Snow before Tarass entered the room.

  Nettle jumped out of the chair by the fire as soon as Tarass entered the room.

  “She was already asleep when I brought the hot brew to her,” Nettle said, casting an eye at the tankard that sat on the chest beside the bed. “I didn’t want to disturb her so I left it there in case she woke. Snow told me earlier that it wasn’t necessary for me to stay the night with her. She said she preferred to be alone. What do you wish me to do, my lord?”

  Tarass didn’t question the lass’s words, since it would be just like Snow to say that. “You can leave, but return at first light.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Nettle said, but didn’t make a move to leave.

  And she wouldn’t until Tarass did and that thought annoyed him. It wasn’t that Nettle didn’t trust him, she was doing what was proper, not leaving a female guest unattended with a male. And if he dictated otherwise, tongues would wag and Snow’s reputation could be ruined.

  “Add another long to the fire, then you may take your leave,” Tarass ordered and turned and left the room, taking the stairs to his bedchamber on the above floor.

  With the night cold and the wind howling outside, Nettle added three more logs. One would burn fast, but three would take more time and keep the room warm. She walked quietly to the bed and adjusted the blanket over Snow’s shoulder and smiled when she saw that Thaw was cuddled against her sound asleep. She tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar so when she returned in the morning she could enter without disturbing Snow, if she still slept.

  Snow struggled to make her way through the snowstorm. She couldn’t see anything in front of her, but she heard Thaw barking and she had to get to him. She kept her hands stretched out in front of her and stopped abruptly when she heard a growl. Her hand went to her cheek, having thought she felt something wet at her face. Or was it the sno
wflakes hitting her cheek?

  She saw it then, the dark shadow beside her, not a blurry gray shadow, but one as dark as night and she screamed, “Tarass!”

  Tarass woke with a start, sitting up and glancing around his bedchamber. All was quiet, the fire low, which meant he had been asleep for some time. He couldn’t understand what woke him, then he heard it.

  A bark that drew closer until it was outside his door.

  Snow!

  He rushed out of bed and wrapped his plaid around him as he hurried to the door. Thaw continued barking and when he opened the door, the pup ran to the stairs, stopped, and looked back at him.

  “I’m coming, Thaw,” he said and rushed down the stairs behind the pup.

  “Tarass!”

  Fear like he hadn’t felt, since the day he had learned of the attack on the village where his parents had been visiting and not knowing if they had survived, ran through him when he heard Snow scream his name in terror. He jumped over the pup and ran for her room.

  He snarled as he flew into the room, ready to rip apart the person who dared to attack Snow and in his home where he’d told her she’d be safe. He was relieved to find no one there and hurried to the bed, seeing Snow was caught in a nightmare, battling the blanket caught up around her.

  Thaw jumped on the bed, this time whimpering, worried over Snow.

  Tarass yanked the blanket from around her and wanted to grab her and hold her tight, but he didn’t, fearful it would continue to make her feel confined.

  “Wake up, Snow, it’s Tarass, you’re safe. Wake up,” he said and shook her gently by the shoulders.

 

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