Highland Yuletide Magic (The Band of Cousins Book 9)

by Keira Montclair

  The look in her eyes, so desperate and sad, had made an impression on him. She needed help, he knew it. He would find out who she was if he had to chase her up one of the mountains.

  Chapter Three

  Shona took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. If she didn’t slow it down, she swore the reivers would hear her. But she couldn’t leave empty-handed. She’d ventured farther away from their cave than usual. It had taken her nearly an hour to find anything useful, but her gaze had finally fallen on this small group of men.

  They had food.

  The men cackled about their feast.

  “’Twas kind of you to let the woman live. The question is why?”

  The man snorted, looking at his companion as if he were an idiot. “Because she had three loaves of bread, and ’tis entirely possible that she baked them. I allowed her to live,” he said, taking another bite of the fresh loaf, “so she can make more. I’ve not had bread this good since my mama died.”

  The three men shared two loaves while the third one sat in a sack a distance away from the group.

  That was the bag she had her eye on. They were drinking ale, and as soon as they were sotted, she’d steal that other bag from them. After all, they’d stolen it from an old woman, so it would be no sin for her to steal it for her starving family.

  The skin of ale made its rounds, each of them taking a few hearty gulps. One of them staggered to standing, belched loudly, and said, “I hear something.”

  The other two jumped up. “I think someone’s coming,” the first one said. “Hush.” He waved his hands at his two companions and they froze, standing directly behind him.

  It wasn’t her they’d heard because she hadn’t moved in a quarter of an hour. But she did see her chance. The sack was less than a horse-length away and the men were on the opposite side of the clearing. If they’d just stay there…

  She crept closer to the sack, holding her breath, when a war cry reached her ear. Three horses broke into the clearing, the men all wearing red plaids.

  She reached for the sack and ran as fast as her legs would take her. One of the reivers yelled at her, lunging toward her with his sword extended—only to take a sword in the belly for his efforts.

  She gasped, and then gasped again when she realized who’d saved her. The man from before. The handsome one who’d gazed at her from afar. “Halt,” he yelled. “Stay where you are.”

  Shona ignored him and ran down a path that wove through the thickest part of the forest, where no horse could follow. This wasn’t the first time she’d been desperate enough to steal from reivers. There weren’t many of them in the area—she’d overheard one group describe it as a “wasteland”—but the ones who did pass by usually had something worth stealing.

  When she finally made it back to the burn, she slowed her pace, stopping to listen for hoofbeats. The men in the red plaids must have stayed behind to take care of the reivers. She hoped they’d come out ahead. The number had been four against three.

  Once she felt safe, she moved into the cave, sad to see the only one awake was Jamesina. The three lads were so hungry and weak they barely moved anymore, so there was little for them to do but sleep. She pulled the loaf out of the sack and held it up for Jamesina to see.

  “Look. We were blessed today. Reivers stole it from an old woman, so I stole it back.”

  Jamesina broke into tears and whispered, “Thanks be to God. We will live another day.”

  Shona broke the loaf into two pieces, giving Jamesina the larger piece. “Here, you feed yourself and your brothers. I’ll feed Juel.”

  She sat next to her brother and lifted his head to rest in her lap. “Here, Juel. I have bread.”

  His eyes fluttered open and he opened his mouth, much like a wee bird would do. She took a small piece from the inside of the loaf where the bread was softer and placed it in his mouth. “Chew, Juel. You must wake up and chew.”

  Her brother managed to chew, though somewhat slowly, and after a few more bites, he woke up long enough to say, “Your turn, Shona. You must have some, too.”

  “Nay, you need it more.”

  Jamesina said, “You must eat, Shona. None of us are strong enough to find more food. ’Tis important that you stay strong. Please eat.”

  Juel nodded. “Please, Shona? I’ll not have another bite until you do,”

  She hesitated, but then decided they were right. She bit into the loaf and almost moaned because it tasted so good.

  This loaf was so large that maybe they’d live for two more days.

  The only other thing she thought of was the intense gaze of the dark-haired Highlander in a red plaid garment.

  Who was he?

  ***

  Moray sent another reiver running off into the distance, his horse flailing because of the unsteady rider. They wouldn’t be back, but Moray didn’t like the fact that the men had been here in the first place.

  What was attracting reivers this far into the Highlands?

  While he knew he should give that question more thought, he didn’t. Instead, he found his mind wandering back to the lovely blonde woman he’d seen again.

  Who was she? And why did she keep appearing on Braden Grant’s land? He still had no idea where she’d come from, but she could run faster than a deer. She’d had a package in her hand. Had she stolen something from the reivers? And if so, what was it?

  He caught up with his three men. He’d left the others behind today, not expecting to run into reivers again so quickly. “Did any of you see the lass?”

  Gilbert replied, “A lass? I did not see any lass.”

  “Nor did I,” Clyde said.

  Blane shook his head. “There’s no lass out here.”

  “Aye, she had golden hair. She was on the far side of the clearing, carrying a sack, though I know not what ’twas. ’Tis the second time I’ve seen her.” He scratched his head, unable to believe no one else had noticed such a lovely lass.

  “Are you sure you weren’t wishing to see a golden-haired lass, Chief? We’ve all been wishing for more lasses at our castle,” Clyde said with a wink.

  “I know what I saw. And ’twas the second time we’ve seen the reivers in two days. Why? What brings them this far into the Highlands in winter?” The lass’s life was at risk with those reivers about. He’d have to patrol the area every day.

  They arrived back at the castle just before the rain began. He made it to the stables so his horse didn’t get drenched, sending his men in ahead of him. Fortunately, Cairstine’s sire had believed in taking good care of his horses, so the stables were large and well-equipped, especially considering how few animals were kept there. Braden was always looking for more horses, oftentimes coming home with one whenever he traveled back to Grant land.

  Corc moved to take his horse from him, but he waved him off. “I’ll rub him down myself, Corc. He’s a mighty fine beast, and I wish to treat him well. Go for the others.” Corc nodded, and after Moray settled his horse in a stall, he headed down toward the area where the food was kept. Steenie was in the next stall working furiously next to Paddy, who kept nudging him with his muzzle.

  “I know, Paddy. I’m working as fast as I can.” The boy had his knife in his hand, and his tongue was pressed between his lips as he worked diligently on his project.

  “What did you decide to make for Yule, Steenie?”

  He held up his project, which looked much like a stick at the moment. “Swords. I’m whittling swords for everyone.”

  Moray nodded. “That’ll be a mighty fine sword when you finish it. What did you decide to make for your mama and grandmama?

  “Swords. I just told you.” He was working again, his head tilted toward the wood.

  “Lad, didn’t anyone tell you that lasses like softer things? Like ribbons and soap.”

  “My mother’s not a lass. She’s my mama. And neither is Grandmama.”

  Moray bit back laughter. It struck him that it would be best not to ques
tion the lad’s decision until he could offer a good alternative. So what could he suggest the lad make for his mother?

  “Where’d you get that idea?” he asked.

  “Paddy told me.”

  Moray glanced at the pony, who whinnied on cue while tossing him a glare, as if urging him to mind his own business. He narrowed his gaze at the animal, then chastised himself for giving strange looks to an innocent beast.

  He had something to work on—a gift for a lass.

  Chapter Four

  Shona washed her face after eating another small piece of the bread. The sun had not yet come up, but Jamesina was awake.

  “Jamesina, we must make a decision,” she said, speaking in an undertone so as not to wake the lads.

  “About what?” the other girl asked timidly. She was definitely more fearful than Shona, but she was determined, too. They were both intent on saving their brothers.

  “We’ll not survive here all winter. Not alone. There’s not enough food, and our sources outside are meager at best. I know not where the reivers got this loaf.”

  “But what choices do we have? Those Dubh men could still be out there.”

  Shona got up and walked out to the mouth of the cave, waving for Jamesina to follow her. Once they were away from the sleeping lads, Shona turned her friend around and did her best to plait her hair. “Aye, they could. I think we have two choices. I’ve seen a group of men wearing red plaids who look as though they’re on patrol. They appear to be protecting their land. They were the ones who sent those reivers running in the opposite direction.”

  “They could be the Dubh men.”

  Even from behind her, Shona could see how Jamesina kneaded her hands. Their worry would never end as long as they stayed in this cave. She had to convince her it was time for them to move. To take a chance. “I don’t think so. When they came to your home, do you remember what plaids they wore?”

  Jamesina thought for a moment, then said, “They weren’t wearing any. They had tunics and trews, with furs for warmth. What know you of red plaids?”

  “The only clan I remember wearing red was Clan Grant, but we are a long way from Grant land, so it cannot be them.”

  “Mayhap they are related to the Grants.”

  “’Tis possible,” Shona said as she tied off the plait. Turning Jamesina around to face her, she said, “One of our choices is to follow this group back to their castle or home, wherever they are from. I could ask them for food without telling them anything about the rest of you, at least to test them out at first.”

  Her friend gripped her hands so tightly, it pained her. “And if they’re part of this Channel, they’ll never let you go. We’ll die for sure without your help. We just need to make it until spring. Then surely our papa will find us.”

  “You’re certain he survived the Dubh men?” She had her doubts, but she didn’t want to destroy the lass’s only string of hope.

  Everyone needed hope.

  “Aye, he was not home. He was out hunting with five of our men. ’Tis why they came then. They killed Mama without even a question.” She teared up but swiped at the tears on her face. “I want to find Papa. I know he’s looking for us.”

  “’Tis true he could be looking for you. And he’ll most likely go to the neighboring clans to find you. I could ask that group if they’ve seen the chief of the MacFees.”

  “Nay, he wouldn’t. Clan Muir was overtaken by a cruel group of men long ago. Papa would never go there. There are other clans that are friendly, but how will we know for sure they’re not from Clan Muir or the Channel? You must be careful. If those men you saw are from the Muir Castle, they’ll probably kill you.” Tears misted in her eyes. “And reivers…”

  They huddled together in the cold, waiting for the laddies to awaken.

  “What was your other choice?” Jamesina asked after a while. “We cannot risk losing you. We’ll all die. I know our sire will be searching for us. If we can stay alive for another moon, I’m sure he’ll find us. There must be another choice, somewhere we could go to wait for him where we could be warm and safe.”

  “I saw a hut not far from here. ’Tis well hidden, and I think it would be plenty big enough for us. There could be food in there. It appears deserted, but I haven’t gone inside yet. I’ve been too afraid, but each time I go out, I look for occupants or even tracks to the doors. I’ve not seen any. I think mayhap we could stay there until spring. I’m sure there must be pallets inside, probably a hearth where we could keep ourselves warm.”

  Jamesina’s face brightened. “I dream of sitting by the fire at night, Mama telling us stories while Papa cleans his swords. If you’re sure no one is there, then I say we should try it.”

  “All right. I’ll check it two more times, then I’ll sneak inside to see what they have. If naught else, I may find some furs and a wee bit of food.” This would at least be a vast improvement over their present situation. She had to try it.

  She moved back inside to Juel and kissed his cheek. “I’ll go, Juel. You need a warm place. You’ve lost too much weight.”

  They all had.

  She needed to change their situation. The danger didn’t matter anymore.

  ***

  Moray wiped the sleep from his eyes the next morn. As soon as he’d eaten his bowl of porridge with a wee bit of honey, he went into the kitchens to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. Making his way out to the stables, he reflected on how much their lives had changed for the better since coming to Muir Castle. His mother, Gelis, took a great deal of pride in preparing food, and she was a great cook. She and Hilda had built a wonderful friendship working together in the kitchens.

  It took her mind off the loss of her two other sons.

  It gave Moray a sense of purpose.

  Moray’s brother Ronan had been Braden Grant’s closest friend, but he’d died going over a cliff not long ago. They’d all thought he’d taken his own life, but it was discovered that he’d been murdered by Keith, the third Allen brother, because of jealousy over a lass.

  Moray and his mother still missed Ronan terribly. They missed Keith, too, although their memories of him were tarnished by what he’d become. Moving to Braden’s castle had helped them to deal with their sorrow. Still, it was Moray’s constant companion. He wondered why they’d died and he hadn’t. He had difficulty sleeping, and often awoke gasping from a nightmare.

  Until recently. Now, he found his thoughts filled with a golden-hair lass he didn’t know. He’d dreamed of her last night, then he’d lain in bed for an hour trying to guess what she was about. He’d come up with nothing so he’d decided to check with a man with much more wisdom than he had.

  “Good morn to you, Corc.”

  “And a fine morn to you, Chief,” Corc said with a wide grin, because he knew how Moray felt about being addressed that way.

  He wasn’t the chief, just his second.

  “I have a question for you. I saw that yellow-haired lass again when we encountered the last bunch of reivers. She was on the periphery of their camp, and I noticed her carrying something when she left. I cannot believe she’s a wee thief, yet I can’t come up with any other reason she would take something from reivers. Have you any ideas?” He leaned against a post, awaiting Corc’s answer. He knew the area well because he’d live at Muir Castle for a long time. When the Lamont bastards had killed the Muirs, they’d spared the stablemaster. He’d stayed on out of loyalty to his former master—he’d felt it his duty to watch over Cairstine, his master’s only daughter.

  Corc thought for a moment, then said, “How big was the package?”

  “’Twas a small sack. It didn’t look heavy at all because she carried it with ease, almost as though it were empty.”

  Corc was mulling over this information when Steenie came running toward him from Paddy’s stall.

  “I know what she was carrying.” He stopped directly in front of Moray and stared up at him expectantly.

  Moray just quirked his brow at the lad
, dubious of his claim.

  “Paddy told me,” the lad said simply. Steenie’s solemn belief in his wee horse’s mysterious powers always caught Moray off-guard.

  “Now, lad, you know horses don’t talk,” Moray said, “so how could he tell you anything?”

  “Aye, he does. He doesn’t use words, but he puts the idea in my mind, then nudges me as if telling me to pay ’tention, just like Mama does.”

  “All right.” He glanced at Corc and winked, out of Steenie’s sight. “What was Paddy’s suggestion?”

  “She’s hungry. She was carrying food. I think he’s right. ’Tis the only thing reivers would have that a lass would want. They probably stole it first.”

  Having delivered his message, he spun on his heel and ran back to his horse.

  Moray just stared at Corc for a moment, completely taken aback, then crossed his arms. “Hellfire if that does not make sense, Corc. What do you think?”

  “I think I told you not to question that horse. I’m telling you there is a verra old soul in that beast. Do not cross him.”

  Moray wasn’t ready to believe that theory yet, or possibly ever, so he returned to the idea that the lass was hungry.

  “If I place a bag of food somewhere, she might pick it up and take it back to wherever she’s living. Do you think ’twould work?”

  Corc said, “Aye, if that’s what her problem is. I can’t think of anywhere the lass would be living. There’s a group of huts where the MacKinnons and the MacFees live, but they are quite a distance away. She’d never come all the way here on foot, not from MacKinnon land in the winter. Other than that, there’s only a deserted hut not far from here. Where would the lass be living?”

  “I don’t know, and that’s what makes me so anxious. Tell three men we’ll leave in an hour on patrol.”

  “Will do, Chief,” Corc said with a nod. “And I’ll have the horses saddled and ready.”

  Moray made his way down between the stalls to the one where Steenie kept his pony. It was the largest stall for the smallest animal, but somehow it seemed appropriate.