by Elise Ramsay
Annis had tried several times to find opportunities to eavesdrop once more on Brodie and Logan but to no avail.
Brodie seemed to have regained his composure and was his old self once more. Whatever Logan had said to him on their journey home from that meeting must have been as cunning and as manipulative as it was possible to be.
Logan seemed to Annis to be more confident than ever. He walked the Castle halls and grounds like a man who knew it would soon be his absolute right. How could he and Brodie not see that this plan of theirs would very likely not hold the rewards of which they had convinced themselves? Gordon MacIver would never support them in it, but it could be the fall of him too.
Annis felt the weight of so many lives depending on her; her Da’s, Brodie’s, and Cullen’s.
Annis knew that her only way of preventing tragedy was to take up following once again. This time, however, she would follow Cullen Kincaid.
Cullen jumped down from his horse. The clearing in the woods was a nice enough spot to eat the bannocks he had wrapped up for himself. The sun was warm and he sat down on the rough, springy grass to eat his food. Feeling a little disappointed that he hadn’t found Annis scampering about the woods, Cullen decided he wouldn’t waste the sunshine. Instead, he would stretch out and enjoy it.
Annis kept low behind the undergrowth. Her thigh muscles were growing tired of the pure amount of crouching and running that the full sennight previous had warranted. Finding a mound of dry, rich smelling earth, Annis sat down on it and stared across the clearing at Cullen. He was munching away at something, blissfully unaware that his very life was in danger. Annis could barely believe she was alone here, watching over a big, braw man who was more than capable of looking after himself. What else could she do? Annis made a study of him, as he sat on the grass just a few yards from her. Feeling the guilt of the undeclared watcher, she stared as the gentle summer breeze whipped lightly at his thick auburn hair. He was actually a good looking man and Annis felt disquieted by her sudden interest. Cullen was broad, in the way that the Kincaid men seemed to be. His colouring singled him out from the other men, though. His fairer skin and bright green eyes were gentler somehow, more playful, even when he was being cocky. Being the rooster! Still, watching him there now, a man totally at ease with himself, Annis could see nothing arrogant about him. How could it be right that his life be so threatened?
Annis could feel how warm the day was, even from the shade of the woodland. However, it still came as surprising to her when Cullen pulled his shirt over his head and stretched out full in the sunshine. Giving a tiny gasp, Annis leaned forwards as if to close the gap by such a small amount would give her a better view.
Annis was utterly mesmerised. Cullen was a braw lad indeed. She had never seen him so undressed and was open-mouthed at the sight of his well-developed torso. Cullen’s stomach was flat and taught and his chest muscles were large, well defined and smooth. Annis realised she was holding her breath. They very sight of him lying in the grass had stirred her in a way she had never expected Cullen Kincaid would. How could she, in all their encounters over the years, never noticed what an attractive man he was? Possibly his non-stop banter and what he thought of as wit had tainted her view somehow.
The more she studied him, the more she thought of their encounters. Was Cullen really the annoyance to her that she’d so often claimed him to be? All lads showed off a little, especially if there was another lad about to see it, she knew that was true. His banter and his wit, if she really allowed herself to see it, were actually very amusing and perhaps not as barbed as her defensive self would see them.
Annis looked down at herself. This had been a hard few days with constant following, running, hiding and worrying. Her skirts were a mess, as was her bodice. Holding a hand up to her hair, Annis could begin to feel what she knew others could see. Her hair, which she knew was beautiful, was wild and unruly. Although it seemed like a ridiculous moment to do so, Annis began to rake through the long, golden strands with her fingers and refasten the stray wisps. Although she knew she would never be a great preener, perhaps she felt the judgement of others more keenly than she had cared to admit. Was that why she was so defensive and sharp around Cullen Kincaid? Did she care what he thought of her?
A movement in the near distance caught her eye and snapped her out of her reverie. What had she seen? Cursing herself for falling into such daydreams, Annis stared desperately about her. Ach, lass, this was no time to start falling for a laddie.
After several moments scanning, finally, she saw them. Although some distance away, Annis was certain that she was watching her brother and Logan Munro. Furthermore, they were watching Cullen. With her heart pounding almost painfully in her chest, Annis looked quickly over at Cullen. Still stretched out prone on his back, he appeared to be fast asleep. Turning her attention back to Brodie and Logan, she could see an excited exchange going on between the pair. Brodie was holding his bow whilst Logan was handing him an arrow. Logan was going to get Brodie to do it! Brodie was going to shoot an arrow into a sleeping man. Annis was frozen to the spot with fear and shock, unable to rip her gaze from her brother.
Brodie lowered his bow, it seemed to waver in the sunlight. Even though she could not see it at this distance, she knew his cheeks would be glowing. A conversation was going on between them and she closed her eyes and wished Brodie to come to his senses. Opening them quickly, she could see the exchange become more heated until, finally, Logan snatched the bow from Brodie’s grasp and began to load the arrow himself. A sweeping sense of relief that Logan was to be the murderer instead kept Annis rooted to the spot. At least, Brodie wouldn’t be a murderer. But Cullen would still be dead!
Snapping right out of it, Annis burst from the undergrowth, running as fast as she could. Opening her mouth to shout, her voice caught in her throat and she could make no sound to warn Cullen to take cover.
Annis could no longer see what was happening. Hopefully, Logan had seen her and he and Brodie would run away before carrying out their awful plan. Reaching Cullen, Annis could do naught else but throw herself over him. Feeling the sharp, hot pain of the arrow piercing her back, she landed squarely on top of Cullen. They were face to face.
Cullen woke with a terrible jolt and almost hit her, so startled was he. Then a smile crept across his face. It seemed to him like a follow on from the dream that his sleep in the sun had brought forth. Scruffy, wild wee Annis MacIver had pounced on him. She was laying atop him and he felt every nerve in his body stirring. It was a nice feeling. Sliding his arms around her waist, he pulled her firmly against him.
“At last, Annis...” he’d begun to tease when he realised something was horribly wrong.
Chapter Seven
With her face a picture of pain and shock, Annis slumped down, seemingly unconscious. It was then that Cullen saw the arrow pointing upwards against the blue of the cloudless summer sky.
“Annis! Annis!”
Cullen was in the unreal world that lay between sleeping and waking and could not quite comprehend the situation. Hearing her moan in pain, Cullen tried to slip out from beneath her. Rolling her off him was not possible without forcing the arrow further into her body. Turning suddenly limp against him, Cullen feared that she had died. What the hell is happening?
Breathing hard, suddenly covered in sweat, Cullen finally managed to break free. His arm reached for his sword but there was no one near. Was he under attack?
Annis was lying face down on the grass. Cullen knelt beside her while his eyes scanned the undergrowth he kept his body between her and where the arrow had come from. Mayhap it was a hunting accident?
Cullen peered at the place where the arrow had pierced her body. It was between her shoulder blades and the entire point had disappeared beneath the fabric of her clothing. Cullen fought the urge to pull the arrow out. It looked so awful, just sticking up out of her like that, but he knew he must get her to safety and get help for her. If he pulled it out there and then, Annis
would die. If she hadn’t already.
Then he heard the sound of undergrowth moving, someone was running away from them. For a moment, his muscles tensed and a growl escaped him. Every fibre of his body wanted to give chase, but if he did so this wee lassie might die and he could not do that. Right now she was all that mattered and he would not leave her.
Brodie was running for his horse, some way behind the already racing Logan. Tears began to stream down his face. Surely that was Annis down there? Logan had shot her! Brodie struggled to overcome his confusion. Why had Annis been there in the first place? Why did she throw herself on top of Cullen Kincaid? Had she seen him and Logan there, preparing to kill Kincaid?
“Logan!” he called out, his voice ragged with uncontrolled emotion.
“Shut up, man, for God’s Sake, and do not mention my name. We need to get out of here. Keep your noise down.”
Logan was busily, and almost calmly, un-tethering their horses. He thrust a set of reins into Brodie’s hands.
“Get up on your horse.”
Brodie stood deathly still and in complete shock. Logan shoved him hard in the chest.
“For God’s Sake, Brodie. Get up on your horse now!”
Brodie began to do as he was told. He looked like a man in a trance. Logan helped to heave Brodie up onto his horse, then swiftly mounted his own. Making to heel his horse into action, Logan looked directly at Brodie.
“Listen to me. Brodie, listen to me. We need to get back to the Castle and sneak in. It has to look as if we have been back there a good while. Then, we can sort this out. Come on now.” He reached over and slapped Brodie hard on the thigh.
“Move yourself!”
Both men heeled their horses and sped away back to MacIver Castle.
Cullen was grunting with the effort of getting Annis up from the grass in a way that would not hurt her further. Although much smaller than him, the care he was taking and her complete unconsciousness were making her a dead weight. That thought sent a shiver down his spine even though he was hot as the sun above them.
Beads of sweat were running freely down his chest and back. With a shout of frustration, Cullen managed to pull her up onto her knees and swooped in to slide her body onto his shoulder before she could slump forward again. Having secured her against him, Cullen rose with ease. Now that he had a good hold on her, she was as light as air.
Keeping his horse calm and steady, Cullen laid her body as gently as he could across the saddle. The sight of the arrow protruding from her almost immobilised him for a moment, until he got a hold of his emotions. He knew he had to move fast. Annis was alive, but only just. For whatever reason, she had saved his life. Now her life was resting firmly in his own hands.
Cullen threw his shirt back on and mounted his horse as best he could. It would be an extremely awkward ride, he was sitting so far back, but there was not time enough for him to walk the horse back to Kincaid Castle.
On the careful journey, Cullen’s mind raced. What had happened there as he’d taken his rest in the warmth of the sun? Who had shot at him? If, indeed it was he they had shot at. Yet, why would anybody shoot at Annis? It made no sense, it had to be him. So who had shot him? How had Annis come to be so close at hand, and had she seen who the archer was?
Cullen’s head was pounding painfully and his heart was racing as if he was running rather than riding.
Annis stirred a little and cried out in anguish. Cullen’s heart nearly burst through his chest, he so wanted the lass to live. Stretching out an oddly steady hand, he placed it gently on the small of her back, being careful not to touch her near the site of her injury. She moved a little and he began to rub her gently.
“Hush now, Annis. You’re going to be just fine, lass. I’m going to get you away safe and we’ll get you mended.”
“Cullen?” her voice was barely audible.
“Aye, lassie, it’s me.” His tone was as soothing as his racing emotions would allow.
With a sigh, Annis seemed to drift off again. Cullen continued to rub her back. Blood from the wound was soaking into the thick bodice, spreading out across the fabric in an ugly, ragged pattern. Cullen felt swamped by guilt. With a few miles left to traverse, he thought of how this would not have happened to his brother Gunn, or his Da. They were men who were always aware; always serious. How he’d mocked them with Grant in their many bitter wee exchanges.
Cullen could see now how he must have appeared to them. The fun-seeking man who refused to grow into his responsibilities. He was the son of the Chief of one of the larger Clans in the Western Highlands, and here he was with an injured lassies laying lifeless across his horse’s back. If only he’d been a better man. Well, he would do everything in his power now to save the life of Annis MacIver. He knew he could not let her go.
Chapter Eight
Back within the safety of his own rooms, Brodie's heart began to slow down. As he looked down his hands still shook but the pain in his side was diminishing and gradually his mind was beginning to clear. They were safe. He had no idea how they had put back their horses and crept through the small Castle unseen, but they had. Brodie knew it was largely due to Logan and that cool head of his, otherwise, Brodie would have been sunk. Whilst Logan looked relaxed and ready to tell any lie necessary, Brodie looked unkempt and his face was dirty and tear-stained.
“Ach, clean yourself up, Brodie. If the Chief sees you looking so rough, he’ll know there’s something wrong.”
Brodie looked up at him, a little vacantly. Although he was relieved to be back in his home, he was still concerned about his sister.
“Logan, I dinnae know if my wee sister is alive or dead. We have to say something.”
“Brodie, get a hold of yourself! If we stay calm and keep out of the way, there’s none can guess we had aught to do with it.”
“To do with it?” Brodie’s anger was rising. “To do with killing my sister, you mean? Do you care naught for her? She could be out there dead.” Brodie’s voice cracked on the word. His emotions were running wild. Fear, guilt, regret. If his Da knew what he had done?
“Brodie, you need to be verra careful here, my friend. If you give us away, what happens? I’ll tell you. Our Clan will be locked in a feud with the Kincaid’s, for how else can we explain shooting Annis down right where Cullen lay? And it’s a feud we can’t win. Sinclair will wash his hands of us, and walk away from the pair of useless bastards who couldnae even shoot straight. Then, to end it all nicely, your Da, the Chief, will disown the pair of us. That’s if he lets us live. Are you listening to me?”
“Aye, but...”
“Nay, don’t you tell me but. We’ll be lucky not to get caught as it is. If Annis saw us, then we’re done for.” Logan stopped himself from saying if she lives. “I mean, she must have seen something to make her throw herself down on Cullen... Unless...” He ended with a smirk he couldn’t control.
Brodie, recognising the insult, was on his feet and bearing down upon Logan before he had even stopped smirking. Wrestling him to the floor, Brodie put his big hands around Logan’s throat. “You take that back! You’ll not speak of my sister in that way!”
Logan could do nothing but choke his response. If this scuffle of theirs was discovered, they were finished. He tried to communicate with his eyes, but Brodie was beyond reach. His nerves were at breaking point. Only the clattering of hooves and panicked shouts approaching the Castle walls broke Brodie’s grip. Logan scrambled to his knees and crawled as far away from Brodie as he could get. Gasping to refill his lungs, Logan held up a hand of apology to Brodie.
The two men looked at each other in stunned silence as the swell of noise burst into the Castle.
Annis, lay mutely, feeling the dull, painful throb between her shoulder blades. Though she tried to part them, her stubborn eyes still refused to open. Deep down within her consciousness there was a need to move, to flee, to be safe but it would not surface and try as she might she could not come fully awake. Feeling groggy and confused,
she tried to get a blind sense of where she was. It didn’t feel like her own room, it smelled musky, masculine. She could hear the distant sounds of life being lived all around her. Odd hooves on flagstone, far off voices, and the clattering and bustling of the everyday and mundane activities of Castle life. It was different from her own home, though. Everything was multiplied, bigger and echoing. Wherever she was, it was certainly not MacIver Castle.
The pain between her shoulders was savage, and she tried once more to force her eyes open. Peering out through sticky lashes, she surveyed the room. Annis was in a bed chamber and had been right that it was not her own. The plaid blankets which had been carefully laid over her were thick and warm. Weakly, she tugged at their edges and pulled them higher over her neck. The pain which the simple movement caused made her suck in her breath.
The pain was immense, but it felt blunt now, not sharp and stinging and hot as it had done when she was outside. Annis knew that the arrow intended for Cullen Kincaid must have winged her instead. She had a vague recollection of landing on Cullen, and of him smiling at her. Then his smile had faded, wiped away by concern. From that moment until waking up in a strange bed, Annis could remember naught but wee flashes.
Had Brodie and Logan known that she was shot? Had they carried on with their plan and shot Cullen too, leaving him dead in the sun-strewn clearing? Again, Annis tried to move, the sudden image of Cullen lying dead compelled her to look around. The pain forced her back down once more, as tears began to escape and roll down her cheeks.
It had all happened so quickly. One moment, she had been dreamily admiring Cullen’s masculine beauty, dazed by her newly discovered attraction to him. The next, she was running, throwing herself down on top of him.
