Finding My Highlander

by Aleigha Siron

  “On second thought, perhaps a pallet for me would be wise; the children can sleep in the bed. It looks a bit small for all three of us.”

  “Aye.” Kendrick answered. Andra could feel his eyes follow her as she wandered to the table, poured water in the bowl, and rinsed a cloth to wipe the children’s hands and faces. While she tended the children, Kendrick stood stoically against the doorframe, watching her every move. What did he want? Why didn’t he leave?

  They had ridden the entire day with barely three sentences exchanged between them. She was exhausted and her nerves frazzled; she didn’t need his unrelenting attention. Just then, the innkeeper’s wife appeared at the door with food. A young lad trailed behind carrying a pallet and extra blankets.

  “Och, me dearies, ye look plum tuckered ye do. A bit of me hearty barley stew and some ale will fix ye right soon enough. ‘Tis long I’ve nae seen ye, Laird MacLean. Now here ye be with yer lovely wife and her bairns. And poor Lorne, dear lad, injured and all. To be certain ye’ve had a time of it.” She bustled about the room, placing food on the table that looked about to topple over. When done, she put her hands on her hips, and assessed Andra and the bairns with obvious curiosity.

  Why hadn’t he corrected the woman and told her Andra was not his wife nor the children hers? Demurely folding her hands, she stood ramrod straight in front of the children. She could play a part with the best of them, but she knew her accent would raise too many questions. So, she nodded her thanks and smiled congenially but held her tongue.

  Kendrick took her hint, “Ye have our thanks, Mrs. Riley. You always did make the best stew this side of heaven.”

  She blushed and looked at him with adoring eyes. “Och, be gone wif’ ye’ and yer sweet tongue.”

  “As you say, everyone is tired from our journey, and we must depart early on the morrow, so we won’t be keeping you from your duties. I’d appreciate it if you could prepare a few loaves of bread and provide wine and ale for the remainder of our journey.” He handed her a few coins from his sporran and patted her arm as she reluctantly left the room, clearly disappointed not to learn more.

  Everyone seemed either smitten with his charms or frightened by his ferocity. “Will my accent present a problem for us?” she whispered to Kendrick after she heard the woman descend the stairs.

  “You never ken who may be listening. It’s best not to raise questions that we, or should I say you, don’t want to answer.” He cocked his eyebrow and a slight curl tipped the corner of his mouth. He was not being hostile, simply relentless. Still, he didn’t move from the doorway. Was he trying to agitate her?

  This was neither the time nor place for another discussion. “If that will be all, I think we need to take our rest now.” With a flick of her wrists, she shooed him out of the room.

  Andra thought she heard Kendrick outside the closed door listening as she whispered to the children. Little Kyle ran a constant stream of chatter interrupted by occasional yawns. “Will ye sing to us again?” he pleaded.

  “We don’t want to disturb the other customers. Perhaps I’ll hum to you while you drift off to sleep.” Before she finished the song, Andra heard the Innkeeper’s wife and her lad speak with Kendrick. “Yer wife has a lovely voice. She be a most bonny lass.”

  “Aye, that she does, Mrs. Riley. Thank you again for the supplies.” Footsteps descended the stairs, and Andra heard a door close. His presence in the room across the hall both comforted and distracted, and she wondered if he had similar thoughts.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They broke their fast before dawn and traveled for several hours with only the sound of birds in the trees and chatter from Kyle to disturb the quiet. They made their first stop after passing through the forest and onto a landscape of rolling hills covered in heather and gorse where a sparse scattering of alder and birch trees grew.

  A silver birch tree and a mass of scraggy willow shrubs clustered along the edge of a rocky burn that spilled over a steep embankment and into a swift moving river. “This is a good place to rest and take refreshment.” Kendrick said as he called the riders to a halt. “We should arrive at the castle by nightfall if we dinnae tarry long.”

  “Are you sure I will be welcomed by your people?” Andra had been reluctant to ask this question, but the prospect of meeting Kendrick’s family and clan made her stomach tighten and neck throb with tension.

  Lorne and Kendrick were standing together when she asked.

  “Och, your singing alone will make you welcome.” Lorne said. “You sing all the time, lass, ‘tis very pleasing to the ear. Mayhap you weave magic with your bonny voice.”

  “I don’t sing all the time. And there’s no such thing as magic.” She responded with more asperity than she’d intended and rolled her shoulders to loosen the tension his words triggered.

  Kendrick laughed, “Aye, you do sing all the time. All morning you’ve been humming like the wee birds.”

  It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned her incessant humming and singing but their laughter flustered her. “Well, I’ll just have to curb my enthusiasm in the future.”

  She looked around at scenery straight out of a fairytale. Mist drifted over purple-covered hills, snuggled between an abundance of wild fern and thistles she spied a few bearberry bushes kissed with the first flame of fall. High craggy peaks caught clusters of clouds in the distance.

  “Although, I must admit this enchanting vista does call to my voice.” She twirled in a circle with arms outstretched above her head and sang the words from “The Sound of Music” with sufficient exuberance to gain a nod from Julie Andrews herself. A brilliant smile covered her face as she waltzed toward the trees singing her heart out. When she turned to check on the children, she noticed Senga move too near the edge of the embankment above the river. The horses stood near her drinking from a stream that spilled over into the wider more turbulent expanse of water. Lorne was brushing down one of the steeds with a handful of dried grass. She started to call Senga away from the edge when something rustled the brush on the other side of the stream causing the horses to shy toward the river, knocking Lorne on his backside. As the men ran to grab their mounts and help Lorne, Senga spun away from the skittish horses, lost her footing, and tumbled over the edge.

  With no thought to her actions, Andra made a mad dash toward the river while kicking off her boots and tossing her mother’s cape aside. She dove into the fast moving water. Spinning and sputtering, she gasped for air when she surfaced. Then she saw Senga rise out of the turbulence several feet away and go under again. The men yelled to her from the shore but Andra stayed focused on her efforts to reach the floundering girl. She kicked her legs hard against the current and dove under the murky churning water toward where Senga’s plaid swirled on the waves.

  She could barely make out a form in the murky water ahead and rose for one final breath before diving under. Catching Senga’s wrist, she pulled her to the surface and wrapped her arm around the girl’s chest. Senga hung against her like a dead weight. The swift current had carried them into deep water at the river’s center, dozens of yards from where they had entered.

  As she fought against the pull of the current, she aimed for an area where the embankment dropped to about a foot above a narrow rocky shore. Kendrick guided his horse into the water at that spot. Fighting the current with faltering strength, she struggled against the swirling eddies. Pulled under again, still gripping Senga against her, she kicked hard toward the shore. Her lungs and limbs burned with fatigue. Suddenly, a strong hand grasped her shoulder and heaved her and Senga out of the water.

  Once on shore Kendrick drew Andra tight against his chest. “What possessed you to do that? You could have drowned.”

  Andra shoved away from his embrace with all the power left in her and dropped beside Senga. He knelt behind her his hand on her back, “She’s gone, lass, let me take you away.”

  He tried to pull her from the girl but Andra slapped him off. Breathing into Senga’s mo
uth, she began chest compressions. After a few attempts, Senga coughed and Andra rolled her to her side patting her back.

  Rabbie and Struan reached them just as Senga coughed up the water. Struan crossed himself, “You bring the dead back to life? You are a witch!” His eyes grew round and wary.

  Coughing and barely able to catch her breath, she gasped. “No Struan, I learned… (gasp)…this…(gasp)…traveling…with my father.” She took another ragged breath, coughing and sucking air. “If you can get the water out of the lungs quickly, then air refills them and normal breathing resumes.”

  She looked up as Struan started to back away hands raised in front of him, a stunned and fearful look on his face. Fully aware of the superstitions and witch burnings that ran rampant in this time, she could not ignore his fear.

  Exhausted and hurting in places she had never felt before, she managed, with Kendrick’s assistance, to gain her feet though they hurt like the devil.

  “Now you listen to me, Struan. You pray to the same God as I, and God helps those who help themselves. You’re big, braw warrior and have a few wits about you most of the time. Hear me about this. That girl was not dead! She most definitely would have died very soon if I hadn’t pushed the water from her lungs. Furthermore, perhaps this is a lesson you should learn.”

  Advancing toe to toe with Struan, she poked a finger into his chest as he continued to back away. “You’re a bloody, damn superstitious brute, do you hear me!” Her throat felt like she’d swallowed shards of glass but she continued. “If you paid a bit of attention and allowed yourself to learn something new instead of being so bloody arrogant, you might save your own sorry arse or that of one of your men should someone fall off their bloody horse in the water and find their lungs full of water.”

  One hand on her hip and the other fisted with one finger pressed into his sternum she continued, “Which is it, are you a man of common sense and able to learn a new thing or two, or are you a witless man consumed with superstition to the point of blindness and ignorance.” Struan’s mouth gaped in shock. She could guess from his stunned expression that no woman had ever dared to curse or accost him in such a manner.

  Andra’s voice had risen to a high shrill. Her body shook uncontrollably with cold and exhaustion, but she would not back away. Consumed with the need to pummel some sense into the man, she hung on. If that failed, she would scream and pull out her hair and become the banshee he thought her. Hell, maybe she was a banshee after all.

  Struan’s scowling face turned beet red. He attempted to cross his arms over his puffed out chest but she refused to remove the finger poking into him and grabbed a fist full of shirt and plaid.

  With an exploding voice, he gripped her upper arms, lifted her into the air, and shook her hard as if she were no more than a sopping wet coat. “Stop your cursing and screeching and calm yourself, you wild banshee! I’m not tak’in kindly to your slander’in words and insults. Your language is fouler than a sailor’s.”

  She dangled in the air, his grip bruising her arms, but at least he was not backing away with a look of terror on his face. Anger was better than fear.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kendrick watched the explosion unfold, reluctant to intercede at first. A spitfire to her core, he couldn’t help but admire Andra’s tenacity. At the same time, he wanted to smash Struan’s face for daring to touch his woman. His woman? He shook his head and refocused.

  Standing behind her, a grave expression on his face he commanded, “Release the lass, Struan.” His voice demanded an immediate response.

  “She is a wild one, I’ll grant you that, but what she says has merit. I have seen another use this method to revive someone who had fallen into water. And look, the girl recovers her breath,” he said, gesturing toward Senga who continued to cough and shiver; her little brother crouched next to her, patting her back with his small hands.

  When Struan set Andra on the ground and released his hold, she stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her face. A childish expression likely intended to relieve her anxiety. To everyone’s surprise, Struan made a similar face back at her. Half a breath later, they all burst out laughing. Struan, who rarely smiled except at the bairns, startled everyone with his antics, and the tension dissipated like the rivulets of water dripping from Andra’s clothes. Finally, she collapsed flat on the muddy bank spent and unmoving.

  Young Kyle pleaded, “Will ye not help me move Senga so she won’t fall in the water again?” Rabbie and Struan guided the children away and Lorne followed.

  Exasperated, Kendrick ran his hands through his wet hair shaking his head. “Are you mad, woman? What am I to do with you? First, you run off in the night toward the smell of smoke and rescue children from men intent on murder and mayhem, and then you jump into a raging river. De you think you are invincible, lass?” Actually, his chest swelled with pride. She behaved as bravely as any warrior, but far too recklessly for her own good. God’s bones, how he desired her.

  “Then you attack and challenge Struan’s wits and sense. For a moment, I feared Struan would do you harm, and I’d have to injure one of my best men in your defense. What possesses you, Andra?”

  “Possesses me? Urrrgh, not you too.” Andra sat up, slinging mud from her hands, eyeing him with a serious expression. “Would you really injure Struan in my defense?”

  Kendrick didn’t answer, not certain he wanted to pursue where this discussion might lead. She tilted her head with a deeply creased brow, “I know he doesn’t trust me, but I’ll not stand for him calling me a witch when all I’ve done is help. There are no such things as witches. It’s just idiotic, superstitious nonsense.”

  “Aye, we’re in agreement there, but you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met. Surely, you understand why others might harbor suspicions. Even with me, you continue to hold your secrets.” The fact that people were superstitious and willing to cast aspersions far too readily concerned him and didn’t bode well for her future. Too many questions remained unanswered, but he did not consider her a witch. She made herself an easy target though, and trouble would find her like the truest arrow.

  He helped her up and brushed away the mud and debris from her soaking wet clothes, which clung seductively to her firm figure. The feel of her under his hands tempted him. When she tried to step away, she winced in pain and fell against him in an attempt to gain her balance.

  Holding her steady, he noticed blood pooling at her feet. “Och, you’re bleeding.” In one swift motion, he lifted her into his arms. A full erection rose under his plaid the minute he pressed her against his chest. Willing his thoughts to her injuries and not his desire to plunge into her wet folds, he carried her to dry grass.

  * * *

  Andra clutched his neck and rested her face against his shoulder. She could feel his erection press into her hip. Her mind turned to their encounter the night after she had rescued the children, and liquid heat surged to her core with want for the man. Without a doubt, she would repeat that coupling in a heartbeat, but not in the middle of the day surrounded by all these people.

  What was wrong with her? She had nearly drowned, been called a witch—again, faced down a gruff warrior, and all she wanted to do was tear off their clothing and let Kendrick smother her with his mouth and pound into her until all the fear and uncertainty disappeared under his searing touch. Based on the hardness pressing against her, he might be of a same mind.

  The children returned to sit with Andra, each holding a hand. Concern creased their foreheads while Kendrick washed and wrapped her feet in strips of linen.

  “Senga, we must remove these wet clothes before you become ill. Rabbie, please bring my bag and we’ll see what we can find for Senga.” He complied without question.

  She pulled out her washed, but sadly stained heather-colored sweater and the matching cashmere pashmina. Maybe one of the women at the castle could help her remove the faded bloodstains. They must have a lot of experience with that type of stain.

  “Give us a
moment of privacy, please.” The men turned to break camp and ready the horses. Quickly, she stripped the girl out of her clothes and pulled the sweater over her head. She wrapped the pashmina around her waist like a skirt and flipped the end over her shoulder like a great kilt then belted it all together, successfully hiding most of the stains.

  “There now, you’re dry and look as lovely as a field of heather,” she said, smiling at the girl. Senga squeezed her hand but did not look into her eyes.

  “‘Tis true sister, yer verra bonny.” Kyle stood and took his sister’s hand, then bent over and kissed Andra on the cheek.

  Tears welled in her eyes and she nearly choked on her words. “Rabbie, do you have a dry plaid to wrap around Senga? We need to keep her warm.”

  He came to take the children, soothing them with softly spoken Gaelic.

  Kendrick leaned against a tree observing Andra as she administered to the children. His presence agitated her more than she wished to acknowledge and her attempt to ignore his serious perusal failed completely. She could hear his breathing, smell his scent, feel his every glance, and she needed to redirect her thoughts immediately. She reached to pull on her boots and hissed in pain.

  He moved to her side, “Leave them off. It will not do to have your feet swell inside the leather. And speaking of getting out of wet clothes, you need to do the same.”

  “Yes, of course,” she unwound the soaked silk scarf from her neck and removed a dry shirt from her bag. When she tried to raise her arm, she yelped in pain.

  Kendrick dropped to his knees. “What pains you?” He ran his strong hands around her neck, across her shoulders and down her arms, applying mild pressure. He lifted her arms away and moved his hands down her sides, hesitating for a split second when they slipped past her breasts. When he touched the side previously injured when she’d crushed the Plexiglas box after her tumble through time, she cried out in pain.