The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6)

by Rebecca Ruger

  Alec spoke up, having passed his gaze a bit around the single room. “I’ll keep you company then,” he said, adding almost as an afterthought, “until the lad falls asleep.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” Eleanor said, her tone one that seemed likely to accept no argument.

  Katie gave a wan but appreciative smile to Alec as he didn’t argue against this. With a nod, he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

  “Sit,” Katie invited, throwing out her hand to the table and stools.

  Eleanor did, taking the stool which faced the bed. “You’re no’ going to get all funny with the lad then, are ye? Keep him underfoot that ye dinna lose him again?” When Katie lifted her weary face to her, Eleanor furthered, “He was no’ in any real danger, ye ken? Just turned around in the wood. He’ll get used to it.”

  She considered this, hadn’t thought that far ahead, hadn’t thought of much but that Henry was safe. And that Alec MacBriar was somewhat awkward in his skin tonight. Yet, Katie knew that she didn’t want to curtail Henry’s freedom, his joy. “It is generally safe here at Swordmair? There’s none who live about that would bring him harm? No beasts outside the gates to cause him injury?”

  Eleanor sighed. “Generally safe, aye. And, I canna think of a soul who would dare to harm another, no’ any who live on MacBriar land. Beasts? Animals? Aye now, that’s another matter.”

  Katie screwed up her face a bit. “So close to giving me all the perfect answers.”

  Eleanor smirked. “Ye ken yourself, you’ve seen it enough I’m sure, a lad’s got to own some bumps and bruises to get through life.”

  “Aye, I do know that. Hopefully, he’ll give me a wee bit of time to recover from this scare first.”

  Eleanor sighed then, looked to have no further conversation in mind, even shifted in her chair as if she might depart now.

  “Eleanor, where did you learn to fight? How did you become a warrior?”

  She harrumphed. “It’s complicated.” Her lips twisted while Katie let her know with lifted brows that this answer didn’t satisfy, so she said, “Only daughter, wanting to be noticed”—she shrugged— “by anyone. Seemed the best way to garner attention in my household. But then they never did notice we—the keep, the village—were put to a siege by the English, and everyone was...they’re all gone. Four brothers, da’, my mother.”

  Aghast, Katie put her hand to her chest. “But how did you survive?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell again, as if she spoke of some lesser tragedy. “Lord Edmund Campion, who laid the siege, thought he’d have some sport, dragged me above stairs, tossed me down on my own bed. I knifed the bastard in his neck while he was raping me. Snuck out through the tunnels.”

  Her mouth gaped. What did one say to that? Sorry seemed impossibly inadequate. She lifted her hand but then did not suppose Eleanor would tolerate any touch from Katie that she laid it on the table again.

  “There was a woman with that army,” Eleanor continued, her gaze unblinking and set upon the table. “She were dressed fine, no’ a soldier, just traveling with them, I guess. Servicing them, I assumed later. But she ken everything that happened, ken verra well what Edmund Campion was doing to me and she did nothing. Laughed at it, shouted insults at me and encouragement at him while he pulled me up the stairs.” She shook her head, “Women are awful creatures.”

  “You realize you are one yourself.”

  “No’ a normal one.”

  “What’s normal, Eleanor? Who’s to say?”

  “I really hate Eleanor, ye ken.”

  “I know, but as I don’t even think I’ve ever heard you say my name that I must retaliate.”

  And that was how Katie earned her first true smile from the woman warrior.

  “Like I said, women are awful,” she said, with some accusation pointed at Katie. But the grin remained a moment more. “Give me a man any day, uncomplicated, their needs fairly basic—feed ’em, house ’em, swive ‘’—so easy.”

  “Good grief, Eleanor, you make them sound like animals—”

  “Which they are, but at least ye can understand them. They’re all pretty easy to figure out.”

  “I can think of several, right here at Swordmair, that are not at all uncomplicated.”

  “Ye canna think of several,” Elle accused. “You’re thinking of that one, just out the door.”

  Katie held her breath and stared at Eleanor, wondering what the woman might know or suspect about whatever it was that had been a wobbly beginning and now seemed to be done.

  Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Ye ken the lads are all fairly decent ones, the MacBriars—but they yap more than most women, clucking hens they are. So, aye, everyone kens all about the kiss, or whatever that whole calamity was.”

  Katie groaned, but defended promptly. “It was nothing, of course—a farce that’s done, him testing me mayhap. I still don’t quite know what to make of it. But it’s done. It won’t happen again.”

  Eleanor slanted a dubious look at her but was kind enough to push it no further. With some insight, she told Katie, “He’s no’ complicated, either. Wants peace and obedience and a good harvest,” she said, and then laughed, “and a woman who will challenge him but no’ too much, and an army that respects him but also fears him to some degree, and mayhap some notion how to lose all that anger he carries around, and likely, he’d no’ squawk at any idea that would somehow make apples grow all year long.”

  “I see. Not complicated at all.” Katie gasped then with a horrible thought, one she could not believe hadn’t occurred to her until just now. “Sweet St. Andrew! Eleanor, are you...do you...are you and Alec...?”

  Eleanor’s instant dark frown answered well enough before she sneered, “Bluidy hell, no!” And then, with a familiar disgruntled tone, she allowed, “He’s all yours.”

  And now it was Katie’s turn to scoff.

  Chapter Twelve

  If not for Eleanor, Katie might well have done just as the woman had feared, smothered Henry with her worry, keeping him close, refusing to allow him out of her sight. He was only permitted any freedom from his mother because Henry wanted nothing more than to be with Eleanor, and strangely enough, Eleanor didn’t seem to mind.

  Left then with some time to herself, no patients to see, no one come to her door for an urgent need, her laundry finally attended this morning with her son’s help before he disappeared with Eleanor, Katie was determined to spend a good amount of time about the nearby woods. She needed desperately to replenish her supply of roots and plants, simply not having the time of late to restock.

  She gathered her shallow basket and her cloak and headed up toward the castle, turning off into the trees before she might have reached the bridge. Soon, she would likely have to tread further, but was not yet very familiar with the land and area that she felt confident enough to stray too far from Swordmair.

  She was about her chore for almost an hour, keeping either the village or the castle in view through the trees at any given time. Her basket was quite full, happily so. At one point, she was able to sit right down next to a rotted stump, crossing her legs, collecting a goodly number of mushrooms and lichen in just that one area.

  When she was done, she stopped at her cottage but just to relieve herself of the basket, and claim the only other one she possessed. She went in search of Maddie, who was usually easy to find as she was often about some chore inside the keep.

  “You’ve recovered well enough, my dear?” The mistress asked, as she had every day since Henry had been lost and then found.

  “Aye, thank you.” She stood across the counter in the kitchen from Maddie, while the older woman was busy trimming peas. “Maddie, I am in need of sea kelp.”

  “Sea-what?”

  “Sea kelp. Are you familiar with it? The green algae that grows and lives in the sea, or its relatives that possibly grow in some of the larger lochs?” At the woman’s blank look, Katie expounded, “It’s rather like a slimy green plant.” Still noth
ing. “At any rate, I’m not sure where the sea is from Swordmair, and I wondered if I might have your permission to have the castle steward procure some sea kelp for me. At Dalserf, the steward had seaweed sent over from Arran Isle, simply for my practice. It has many medicinal qualities.” It had taken some doing, Gordon Killen having to send out many inquiries before a positive response had come, and subsequently, the sought after seaweed.

  “Aye, Edric might do that for you, lass,” Maddie offered encouragingly, but then said in an offhanded manner, “Of course, you could walk to Loch Oykill in less than an hour. Always something slimy there.”

  “Loch Oykill? Is it very large, the loch?”

  The cook, a woman whom Katie knew from all those times she fetched Henry directly from the kitchens, whose name was Corliss, turned from the hearth and answered, “Verra large, lass. And aye, very slimy stuff. I grew up near there. Three quarters hour, gone and back before we sup.”

  She thought she just might. But then hesitated, “Is it wise, though, to...wander about in that direction?” She understood that Swordmair was safe, but she’d heard numerous tales of the relentless and fierce clan wars up here in the Highlands.

  Almost as if she were offended by the question, the cook turned and straightened, leveling Katie with an are-you-daft glare. “Aye, it’s safe. Unless your sea kelp bits are the biting kind.” And with that she chuckled and turned her back again, the kettles receiving her chortling.

  Katie looked to Maddie, who only shrugged, sending her own funny glance to the cook. To Katie, she said, “Middle of the day, lass. Gone and back so quick. Seems harmless enough. Aye, and when the lad comes in, I’ll bid him remain at the keep until we sup.”

  She decided right then she would do it, would strike out to Loch Oykill and collect her own sea kelp. She needn’t then bother the castle steward or be indebted to anyone.

  She had to disturb Corliss once more for the direction, who snorted a bit but did take Katie out into the yard directly from the kitchen and point toward the west.

  “Beyond the trees, see the lass’s cleavage?”

  Lass’s cleavage? Oh, the slight dip in the mounded hills beyond the narrow forest of pines.

  “Aye, I see it.”

  “Head straight for that, loch’s on the far side. Ye return same way, through the bosom.”

  Katie smiled at this unfamiliar landscape language and thanked the woman for her time.

  The sky was clear and the sun warm upon her. She spent a wee bit of time searching for Boswell, thinking he’d make a fine companion for her brief journey. He wasn’t in the bailey or inside the stables, where he liked to spend a fair amount of time. He wasn’t at home, though she’d bothered to walk back to her cottage to check. He was not seen anywhere in or around the village that Katie left off searching before it was then too late to set out.

  Thus, she walked away from Swordmair, quite proud of herself for this undertaking. She was not averse to seeking help, but she so much preferred to manage her own occupation, and the things she needed to perform well.

  HE WASN’T SURE WHY he should care. She was a grown woman, could do as she pleased, even if that did mean making some bluidy hare-brained decisions.

  Still, his jaw ached from the tightness that had come with the news he only happened to overhear as he passed through the kitchens, seeking Edric. He’d not found Edric and then his business with the steward had been swiftly forgotten when threads of the conversation between his mother and Corliss, the castle’s cook, penetrated.

  “Haven’t been over to Oykill way in years,” Corliss had said. “Hope I dinna steer the lass wrong.”

  His mother had responded, “Nor I. Seems I’m thinking now it’s more of a hike than I’d led the lass to believe.”

  At his mother’s wavering tone, Corliss had gestured with the long wooden spoon in her hand. “Aye, but I’m sure she’ll still be there and back...well, mayhap before dark.”

  With worry now coloring her voice, his mother had said, “If she dinna get lost, of course.”

  That was when they’d noticed Alec, neither reacting to the frown he eased only to lift his brow to inquire, “Which lass has gone to Loch Oykill?”

  “Katie has,” his mother answered haltingly, the severity of his voice causing her alarm.

  Alec used every ounce of strength in his body to control himself and ask calmly, “Why did she go there?”

  “Sea...something, she was after,” his mother said, her fingers unmoving inside a wide bowl of dough she’d apparently been kneading.

  “Slimy stuff,” Corliss added in a small voice, sensing his rising ire.

  “And when did she leave?”

  The women consulted each other uneasily.

  “More than an hour ago? Mayhap two?” His mother said, which emerged as a question, fearing his response.

  Alec said nothing more but spun on his heel and left the kitchen. He’d mounted and left the castle immediately but had yet to overtake her—and he’d been searching now for nigh on an hour that Loch Oykill was just ahead.

  Gone to Loch Oykill? Was she daft? He wondered for the hundredth time. It was naught but three days ago that her own son had gone missing! Had she forgotten so soon? He was going to blister her hide within inches of needing a healer’s attention when he found her.

  As he descended the far side of the hills, he was greeted by the faded yellow gorse blooms, which claimed nearly all the land until it was overtaken by the loch itself, mottled navy and turquoise. Alec directed his steed carefully through the shrubs, some which stood taller than he atop his huge destrier until he’d traversed all of it and stood before the water. The loch itself on this eastern side was ringed for hundreds of yards by a flat and rocky beach that chasing footprints was not an option. A quick glance up and down the stretch showed no lean figure about the chore of collecting anything from either the water’s edge or the uneven shore.

  He mumbled a curse and then said aloud, “I’m going to wring her beautiful neck.” He yanked on the reins, turning the horse, intent on gaining high ground again that he might better peruse the area. Facing the tall and prickly gorse, he saw Katie Oliver standing directly upon the path he’d taken, exactly at the spot where the rocky beach began.

  She was staring directly at him from a distance of several yards, biting her bottom lip that he supposed she’d overheard his heated words and was aware of his fury.

  The next thing that struck him, he put to words, “Were you hiding yourself?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t see who came.”

  There was that, at least. He wasn’t sure how, but he managed to again command an even tone. “Which part of this—this foolish scheme—seemed like a good idea to you?”

  She countered with a frown and, “Why are you here?”

  He was accustomed to people wilting under the weight of his sometimes robust fury. She did not. Of course she did not! Alec raised both brows sharply. “Why am I here?”

  She nodded.

  “Aye, I thought I’d take a leisurely ride through the countryside,” he answered, his sarcasm biting, his voice deepening to a dangerous level as he continued. “I’ve naught to do but chase around a simple-minded lass who believed it a fine day to stroll so far away from home all by herself!” This, the last, was shouted into the air between them.

  Katie was undaunted, or equally as peeved. “Did I ask you to?”

  “You dinna have to ask! You can no’ be venturing so far afield all by yourself! Do you have any idea of the dangers that you might encounter even in this friendly land? Do you?”

  “But your mother—”

  “My mother hasn’t left the castle in twenty years!” He roared. “And even she’s no’ dimwitted enough to undertake a march like this on her own!”

  She’d snapped her lips together when he’d interrupted her, but now drew a quick breath to offer up more of her pitiable defense. “Corliss said—”

  He shouted over her, drowning her out, “I’d given
you credit as a fairly intelligent lass, Katie Oliver, but I promise you now, I’m rethinking—”

  “You’ve just called me dimwitted and simpleminded and...something else in a span of thirty seconds,” she cut in, her voice equally forceful, her scowl as severe, “so pardon me while I challenge the first part of your spewing. But more importantly, I do not take orders from you. I am free to come and go as I please.”

  He’d had enough. He swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted smoothly, quickly, striding angrily toward her. “There’ll be no coming or going, you bluidy fool,” he ground out, “if you’re dead—drowned or set upon by either man or beast or lost—” He cut himself short, taken aback by her changed expression. Bluidy fool had hit home, seemed to sap all the fight right out of her. Or his bearing down on her had, that she was completely still, unblinking even.

  He’d seen it before, all her passion and rage and emotion evaporating to nothing as she composed herself. She was as inscrutable as any gray rock hereabouts just now, her expression bland and unremarkable, her shoulders squared and chin angled upward.

  “I am not a fool.” Underneath her attempt at coolness, Alec sensed that she was absolutely awash in her own seething rage. “I did not invite you or ask you to mind me. I am my own person, and not a bird to be caged.”

  Aye, but there was something there, he surmised, wildly intrigued by whatever had just happened, whatever had chased the storminess and replaced it with this deliberate frostiness.

  Or...was this more defense? Against him? His closeness?

  Alec took one more step, closing the distance to less than a foot between them.

  The narrow chin lifted yet more. She held his gaze with her stormy blue eyes, all her emotions convened there. “I am neither ready to return or in need of an escort,” she hurried out, her voice starchy. “I have only just arrived.” This came not without some trepidation as he noted that one of her hands was folded into her skirts, showing him little else but her white knuckles.

  He inched closer, his boot meeting the hem of her gown, his own gaze riveted upon her.