Tess and the Highlander

by May McGoldrick

  Tess pulled the blanket over her blushing face and tried to cool her blood. The problem lay not with the man who was watching her from across the room. The problem was with her. How had she become so stupid so quickly?

  She knew she was in trouble if Colin Macpherson didn’t leave soon.

  Buffeted by the gusting wind, Colin stood at the very edge of the rock bluff and scanned the turbulent sea all around him. Not a ship or a boat for as far as he could see. He’d taken advantage of a break in the rain at dawn, leaving Tess to the sleep of the innocent. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of any sails, though perhaps the easing of the rain was a sign that the storm was blowing itself out. Once the skies began to clear, he knew he would see at least one ship on the horizon.

  More than looking for his brother’s ship, though, Colin needed to get away from Tess. He’d desperately needed some fresh air to clear his head.

  There was something about her. She was bewitching him. Young women had always been easy to come by. The Lord above…and his parents…had blessed him with a fair share of good looks. He had a good family name. He’d never needed to pursue any lass. And he’d never seen any need in settling down, either. The ones who’d come looking for marriage, he sent on their way. Colin’s plans included no wife—that was certain! He had plans to sail the seas. Adventure, fame, fortune…those were the things he was after. And he’d never considered letting his plans be spoiled by one woman…in one port…in one bed.

  Colin walked toward the chasm that cut diagonally across the island. Descending, he followed a freshwater spring and dropped down to a stony beach. The brown eyes of a half-dozen seals were watching him from the water. Spotting some driftwood that had washed in with the storm tide, he began collecting some to carry back.

  He was the youngest son of Alec Macpherson, a Highland laird, and Fiona Drummond Macpherson. Through his mother, he was grandson to the great King James the Fourth and cousin by blood to the infant Queen Mary. Naturally, with lineage like that, there were certain expectations. Though he’d tried to fight it, his parents had insisted that he follow in his two older brother’s footsteps and finish his education at St. Andrews. But now, by the devil, that was behind him. Now Colin was ready to follow his dreams.

  From Ireland to Antwerp, Macpherson ships had been raiding merchant vessels from the continent and from England for at least five generations. As his grandfather used to say, the blood of piracy ran in Macpherson blood. Colin’s youngest uncle, John Macpherson, had been the Lord of the King’s Navy. His other uncle, Ambrose, a fierce warrior, had also sailed these waters and raided many ships before settling down to a life of service to the Crown.

  Colin’s older brother Alexander was master of the Macpherson ships now. James, the second son, had chosen to pursue—like their Uncle Ambrose—the life of a diplomat. This left a world of opportunity open for Colin, for he knew Alexander could only keep at this for so many years before his time came to assume the mantle of the next Macpherson laird. When that happened, Colin wanted to be sure he was ready to take charge of the clan’s fleet of ships and continue the family tradition. Hell, the Spanish ships coming back from the New World were just bulging with silver and gold. They were plums waiting to be picked.

  He simply couldn’t allow any woman to interfere with plans like those. Even if she were beautiful and mysterious.

  By the time Colin returned to the priory carrying a stack of driftwood, his mind was clear and his resolve set. No attachment. No attraction. No worrying about her, or even going after her again should she choose to hide. She had obviously been surviving perfectly well before his arrival. She would continue on just as well after he left.

  Colin’s resolve, though, only lasted until he came up the stairs and found her missing. Her bed was neatened. The fire was burning nicely. Some of her blankets were missing, though.

  “Bloody hell!” he muttered to himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve run off again?”

  Colin dropped the load and went out, his resolve obliterated in an instant.

  All he knew was that he had to find her.

  Protected from the worst of the wind in the yard between the crumbling stone walls of the ruined church and the ancient cemetery, Tess moved quickly among the sheep. Beyond the low cemetery wall, a nanny goat stood watching the proceedings suspiciously.

  From the first moment Tess had noticed the lameness in a few of the sheep and had discovered the cracks and abrasions between their toes, she had used the direct method that Garth always used to treat the flock. Move them to higher ground and spread the salve that he had taught her to make on the feet of any sheep that might be developing the condition. And after three weeks of it, she was happy to see that they were finally responding to the treatment.

  The cutting drafts of wind that snaked into the yard were still cold, but the sky was brightening. Glancing up, she thought that the sun might even break through before long.

  Kneeling among the sheep, Tess finished rubbing the salve on another of the animals’ feet. As soon as the ewe was turned loose, she butted and pushed her way into a safe place amidst the rest of the flock.

  Tess looked about her in search of her last patient. She found the pregnant ewe standing alone and watching her warily from the cemetery wall. “Come here, Makyn.”

  The ewe pawed the ground gently.

  “You’ve been talking to the nanny goat, haven’t you?”

  Makyn looked away.

  “Come here, good mother. This is the last time we’ll be doing this.” Tess spoke softly and took a small handful of oats from a pocket in her dress. When she held it out, the ewe still refused to look at her.

  “Getting a wee bit of your own treatment, I see.”

  Tess felt her pulse quicken at the sound of the Highlander’s voice, and she cursed her own treacherous heart. He was leaning over the cemetery wall and looking with interest at the potions at her feet.

  “Well,” he said with a glint in his eye. “From personal experience I can say that if she doesn’t want anything to do with that poisonous brew, I don’t blame her.”

  “She is just not feeling well today. Otherwise she would come.” A breeze, riffling through his long hair, tugged at the ends of his tartan. The blue of his eyes this morning were a sure match for any summer sky. She tore her gaze away from his handsome face and stared at the ewe. “Come, Makyn.”

  The sheep edged a little down the wall toward Colin. Tess pushed herself to her feet.

  “Stay where you are,” Colin said. “I’ll bring her to you.”

  “Do you know about tending sheep?”

  “I’ve never had any interest in the silly creatures, to be honest. The women tend them where I come from.” He jumped nimbly over the wall. “Never looked very difficult, though.”

  Tess bit her tongue and sat back on her heels. Just as she’d expected, as soon as he approached, Makyn scurried away.

  “Hold there, ewe,” he ordered. “I’m not the one with the poison potion.”

  Makyn bleated loudly and ran frantically toward the rest of the flock. Colin rushed the animal, but his abrupt movements only served to rile the entire flock. In an instant, Makyn had blended in with the rest of the bleating, scurrying bundles of wool.

  “Where the devil did she…? Ah, there you are, you bloody....”

  Stifling a smile, Tess stood up and walked toward Colin. She put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Not to be critical of your shepherding, but I shouldn’t think Makyn is in any condition for this. The creature is probably only a day or two away from lambing. I think she’s had enough excitement, don’t you?”

  His gaze fell on her hand resting on his bare arm. He had rolled up his shirt to the elbows. His skin was so warm, and Tess withdrew her fingers as if she’d been burned.

  “Very well. I am your attentive pupil, mistress.”

  Tess didn’t dare look up to meet his gaze. Instead, she focused her attention on the terrified ewe in the far end of the yard.

 
“Sheep must always be handled firmly, but calmly and gently, too” she said softly. “Running and exciting them will only invite trouble.”

  “I always thought the same could be said about handling people,” he whispered in her ear. “I was firm, calm, and gentle when I met you, but you still ran away.”

  “That just shows you that I am much smarter than Makyn.”

  Tess tried to not be affected by his low rumble of laughter, by his warm breath caressing her ear.

  “Makyn is still nervous. We need to approach her very slowly and quietly.”

  “Do they all have a name?”

  “Only the animals that I decide to keep.”

  “Very insightful. The thought of having a ‘David’ skewered and roasting over the fire is not very appetizing.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “How?”

  Tess moved away from him. “We could have a ‘Colin’ roasting over the fire.”

  “In that case, I feel much, much safer having a name.”

  “And another thing, you should remember that in approaching sheep, never look at them directly.”

  He was beside her again. “Very well.”

  Tess felt his hand take hold of hers. Stunned momentarily, she turned and looked at him.

  His eyes were sparkling with mischief. “I thought it might be helpful for you to look at me as we approach her.”

  He was simply too handsome for her comfort. “And why should I want to do such a thing?”

  He shrugged. His smile was warm enough to melt through a sea fog. “Perhaps because I enjoy looking at you.”

  “And why should you want to do such a thing?”

  “You are beginning to ask far too many questions.” He shook his head. “You might pick up my good habits…and not just the bad ones.”

  “You have good habits?”

  “Some,” he said softly, his blue eyes searching hers.

  Tess’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she felt his gaze brush over her face. In sheer panic, she took a half step back.

  “I…I think Makyn is calm enough now for…for us to tend to her.”

  Colin’s eyes had turned a smoky blue—almost gray—and Tess felt her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn’t sure what he intended to do, or what it was that she wanted. Stopping, though, seemed to be the best course.

  He seemed to read her thoughts, and his friendly smile returned. “Very well. You lead and I’ll follow…or just tell me what to do.”

  “I’ll catch and hold her. You spread the salve on her feet. Or we can do it the other way around, if you like.”

  Of course, she could have done the whole thing by herself, but she suddenly didn’t want him to go away.

  “I don’t think my stomach will allow me to get too close to that cauldron. Tell me what to do, and I’ll catch her.”

  She took him by the elbow and brought him a little closer to Makyn. “Without looking at her, get a bit nearer. When she is within your reach, quickly reach out and grab the wool under her chin. Just tip the head upward. This will keep her off balance and easy to hold. Now if she turns her back to you, just grab her by the rear flank.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll bring the medicine to you.”

  As Tess went for the cauldron, she could hear the muttered curses erupt from the Highlander, followed by a loud complaint from Makyn. When she turned around, she almost laughed aloud at the sight of man and sheep tangled together on the ground by the wall.

  “I don’t know which of us is winning this battle,” Colin muttered when she settled beside them. “But please make sure you put that foul faerie brew on the sheep’s foot.”

  “Hmm…but ‘tis so easy to mistake one for the other.” She started rubbing the salve on Makyn’s front hooves first. Teasing, she reached for one of his boots.

  “If,” he said sharply, “you want any of those precious shells of yours left intact, you won’t even think about putting any of that on me.”

  “Do you mean the shells that you have already crushed by the hundreds?”

  “There are a few left, I believe.” He sat the ewe back on her hindquarters so Tess could tend the back feet. “Actually, there is something soothing about the soft crunching noise these shells make when I…”

  His blue eyes widened as Tess held the salve up before his face.

  “I am done with Makyn. You must be next.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Though the storm’s force had lessened somewhat, the wind continued to lash at the island. It wouldn’t be long though, Colin thought darkly, before his brother’s ship reappeared.

  He worked alongside of Tess as she went about her chores, tending the animals, drawing water from the well inside the priory walls. She was capable and beautiful. Yet she was quick to discourage any advances he might make. Though he was not entirely surprised, given the lack of society here on the island, it was still somewhat disconcerting for him. To have a woman shy away from his touch was not something Colin was accustomed to.

  Oddly, though, Tess’s gentle rebuffs only managed to entice him more, for he knew it was not a coy game she was playing. She was as genuine as the sea was deep.

  “Thank you for bringing this wood up from the strand.”

  Colin straightened after stacking the last of it inside the door. She had just come down the stairs. “‘Tis enough, do you think?”

  “So long as you don’t start another fire in the yard as great as the first night. What a waste of wood!”

  He smiled. “’Twas a grand trick to draw you out, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I shouldn’t be bragging about that too much…considering you’re still trapped on the May with me and no way off.” She brushed past him and went outside.

  ‘Trapped’ wasn’t the word he’d have used. If she only knew. Actually, he was beginning to think this arrangement was not bad, at all. Still smiling, Colin followed her into the yard.

  “What’s next?”

  “Usually Garth would be turning over the garden about this time of year.”

  “How long ago did he die?”

  “December. Little more than a fortnight after Charlotte.” A deep blush immediately crept up her cheeks, and Colin saw Tess’s gaze turn warily to him.

  She had blundered again and told him more than she had meant to. If Garth and Charlotte were the old keepers, then Tess was totally alone. He turned away, looking absently at the ruined buildings that stood within the priory walls.

  Concern for her slipped unexpectedly into his chest like the blade of a dagger. What was going to happen to her when the Macpherson ship came back for him? He frowned at the skies with the broken clouds scudding across occasional patches of blue. Determined not to press her for answers that she was obviously not ready to give, he turned back to her with a smile. Reaching out, he tucked a wind-whipped, silken lock of hair behind her delicate ear.

  “Would you show me around the priory before the rain starts again?”

  Tess gave a small nod and turned toward the ruined buildings surrounding them.

  “Sailing past the island, you never get a feeling that this place is even livable.”

  “Is this what you do? Are you a sailor?”

  “I suppose I am.” If he wanted her to trust him enough to answer his questions, Colin knew he needed to set the precedent. “I have sailed on Macpherson ships for as long as I can remember. I have traveled from the Orkneys to Africa. But up to now, I’ve been more student than sailor.” He glanced out at the stormy sea. “But now that I am finished at the university, I suppose you can say I’m a sailor.”

  Tess pulled the hood of her cloak up. The wind—wet and cold—was picking up. She started toward the building Colin guessed had been the original church. A long ago fire had taken the roof and the door was gone. Looking in, he could see a chancel with a stone altar at the far end. He could almost envision gray-robed monks chanting their prayers there. The end wall was half gone, as well, and several gray and white sea birds were pe
rched on the bottom ledge of an arched stone opening that had once undoubtedly held a stained-glass window.

  Her voice broke into his thoughts. “May I ask how old you are?”

  “Twenty.”

  “You’ve accomplished so much already.”

  “Would you tell me how old you are?”

  She paused first, but then answered. “Seventeen.”

  “Seeing how well you take care of yourself and everything around here, I should say you have accomplished quite a bit.”

  “’Tis hardly the same,” she whispered.

  He saw the flash of sadness in her eyes. “Why do you stay here?”

  “This is my home…where I belong.”

  “But you were not born here.” He held her gaze when she looked up at him, startled by his words. “Tess, I told you I have sailed these waters. For as long as I can recall, there was never any word of the old keeper and his wife having any children.”

  “I have been here a long time. If no one knew about me, that is because these good people were trying to protect me. They were afraid of what might happen to me if people knew I was here—the sailors of passing ships…or the fishermen from the mainland…or even the occasional pilgrims coming here during the warmer weather. Auld Charlotte and Garth wanted to keep me safe.”

  “I am not questioning what they did. What I am wondering is where you came from. Who is your family?”

  She moved away from him without answering, and Colin followed, fighting back his frustration. At least she was no longer trying to feed him stories about her family being out fishing in storm-tossed seas. He caught up to her.

  “With Garth and Charlotte gone, how will you stay here all by yourself? What if you should fall ill? or break an arm climbing the cliffs for birds eggs? or slip on one of those damned shells and crack your head open?”

  She turned her back to him. He wasn’t giving up, though, and moved around her. “What the keeper and his wife were concerned about before is nothing compared to what you should fear right now. You are a beautiful young woman, Tess. Do you have any idea of the dangers that…”