The Highlander Next Door

by Janet Chapman

  Only when she got outside, the man was nowhere in sight. She ran to the barn and stopped just inside the huge open doors to listen for movement or talking, then ran back outside and around the building. “You lying jerk!” she shouted, scanning the edge of the woods for any sign of him or Shep, or even Reggie’s ATV tracks.

  “Are ye intending to roost there all day?”

  Birch twirled to see Niall leading a giant horse out of the pasture. “I brought you water,” she shouted, running to him.

  “I drank from the hose in the barn,” he said as he clipped a second rope onto the halter. He then vaulted onto the horse’s back and held a hand down to her. “Swing up behind me and hold on.”

  She took a step back and glanced around, then used the water to gesture at the pickup beside the barn. “Maybe the keys are in the truck.”

  Niall plucked the glass out of her hand and tossed it away, then reached down to her again. “Do ye not think Vaughn would have taken it himself if he could reach the headwaters by truck?”

  “There’s no saddle.”

  “Scots learn to ride before we can walk.” He wiggled his fingers. “Don’t chicken out on me now, lass. I can deal with Vaughn and Reggie, but the women need you.”

  “Merde,” Birch muttered, reaching for his hand.

  “Jump,” he said on a chuckle, pulling her up behind him. “Hold on,” he added just as the horse broke into a plodding gallop or lope or whatever it was called before she’d even gotten her balance.

  Holding on to Niall as if her life depended on it—which she was pretty sure it did—Birch pressed her face into his jacket to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter as she tried to decide which one of them was crazier. Because honestly, who in their right mind chased after runaway teenagers on a plow horse?

  Forget not having a saddle; even she knew Niall needed a bridle to steer. And what was up with all that “I’m Scots” business, anyway? Had the man been reading her mom’s historical romance novels or something and gotten the idea that just because he was descended from Scottish highlanders that he could crumble castle walls, steal a kiss from the liberated damsel, and charge off on a mighty steed to rescue a family from a villainous ogre?

  Well, okay; maybe he was two for three this morning. No, two and a half, as they definitely were charging somewhere.

  Still, if Chief MacKeage were the crazy one, what did that make her for galloping to the rescue right along with him?

  Chapter Seven

  Niall guided the surprisingly cooperative horse up the path in the direction Shep had disappeared, not at all surprised Birch was riding with him, considering the woman didn’t seem to know the meaning of caution. Granted, he’d all but dared her to swing up behind him, but only because he didn’t doubt she would strike out on her own if he left without her. And to his thinking, it was better to know exactly where Birch was rather than have her popping up in the middle of a potentially deadly situation.

  He may not recall having met Ike Vaughn in town, but he’d certainly dealt with his kind—in a couple different centuries now, actually. Self-important bastards like Vaughn would willingly fight to the death defending their property or beliefs, and they didn’t care who they took down with them.

  When the narrow tote road he was following forked, Niall veered left without letting the horse break stride, as Reggie’s ATV tires were leaving a trail a blind man could follow. He did have to reach back and catch Birch, however, when she veered right with a startled yelp.

  “A warning would be nice,” she muttered as he slid her upright. “Unlike you, I didn’t learn to ride before I could walk. Ow!” she yelped, nearly falling off again as she jerked away. “Your stupid gun keeps poking me.”

  Niall gave a heavy sigh and reined the horse to a stop, then twisted to grab her. “Let go,” he said, giving a tug when she clung to him like a cat on a screen.

  “No, don’t make me get off!” she cried, batting him away, then wrapping her arm tightly around him again. “I won’t say another word. Misty and Sally need me.”

  “It’ll be easier for you to ride in front.”

  “I don’t know how to steer! Just go,” she said, kicking the horse’s sides—which merely caused the beast to switch its tail in agitation.

  “Then pull the gun out of my belt and shove it in your pocket,” he said, starting the horse off at a walk.

  “I’m not touching your stupid gun. Where’s the one you wear in your holster?”

  “I gave it to Peg MacKeage to hold until I get back.”

  “You can’t just hand your service weapon to a civilian. She has a toddler.”

  Since it didn’t appear she was going to move his gun, Niall urged the horse into a lope. “Peg knows more about firearms than I do.”

  “Warn me!” Birch snapped as she became a clinging cat again.

  “Hold on,” he warned with a chuckle, pushing the horse into a gallop. “What was that?” he asked over his shoulder when she muttered something into his jacket, even as he politely didn’t point out that she was still talking.

  “I . . . I said thank you.”

  Niall also politely refrained from calling her a liar. He continued following the ever-narrowing road that was now working its way between two mountains, giving Birch points for finally figuring out she needed to move with him and the horse. It was another fifteen minutes before he spotted Shep standing at what appeared to be a sharp turn in the path, the dog’s tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and his tail giving a wag just before he bolted up a narrow game trail to the right.

  The only problem was that Niall could see Reggie had gone left. He brought the horse to a stop when he reached the trail, then lifted his leg over its neck and slid to the ground. He immediately turned and caught Birch as she fell, then covered her mouth with his hand to stifle her yelp of surprise. “I think we’re close,” he whispered, pulling her against him when her legs buckled. “Listen.”

  She stilled inside his embrace as Niall caught the muted roar of rushing water and the sound of two males engaged in a heated argument. He grasped her shoulders and held her facing him. “Do ye have your bear spray? Vaughn doesn’t know I’m here,” he continued quietly when she patted her pocket and nodded, looking . . . hell, she looked eager to spray the bastard. “Are ye up to creating a distraction while I work my way behind them?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, nodding vigorously this time. “What do you want me to do?”

  They both stilled when the shouting came to an abrupt end with the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh and a pained grunt immediately followed by a female scream. Niall gave Birch a squeeze to get her to look at him again. “Interrupt what’s going on by showing yourself, but keep your distance, understand? Just catch Vaughn’s attention and hold it.” He grinned. “Swearing at him should work. But whatever ye do, don’t be scanning the woods looking for me. Give me your word,” he said roughly when she nodded again, “that you won’t go anywhere near Vaughn.”

  “What if he has a gun?”

  Niall shook his head. “We’d be hearing gunfire instead of shouting.” He turned her to face the path Reggie had taken. “Ready?”

  “How will I know what you’re planning to do?” she asked, pulling her bear spray out of her pocket.

  “You’ll know when it’s over,” he said, giving her backside a pat that ended with a push, causing her to bolt as if he’d pinched her.

  Niall waited, watching Birch run out of sight without so much as a glance back at him, only to mutter his own curse when he realized she hadn’t promised him anything. He quickly tied the horse to a tree and hightailed it up the trail toward Shep as he tried to imagine why Reggie hadn’t waited until nightfall to steal Misty away—every scenario he came up with only further darkening his mood.

  Niall left the trail and ran through the dense woods, the sound of the gushing st
ream drowning out any noise he might be making. He came to a halt at the edge of a large outcropping of ledge, catching hold of Shep’s fur to stop him just as the young girl screamed again. Niall saw the lass being held back by a woman he assumed was Sally, then moved slightly to look at where they were staring to see Vaughn standing over Reggie lying on the ground, the boy apparently out cold.

  “Get away from him, you cowardly little pissant!” Birch shouted as she marched into the clearing.

  Well, there was no question the spitfire knew how to create a distraction.

  Vaughn stepped back in surprise. “How did you get free?”

  Birch continued advancing. “You’re going to need to rebuild your foundation,” she said as Vaughn, frowning at the small canister she was holding up threateningly, started retreating. “Assuming the house isn’t completely caved in by the time you get out of prison,” she added, dropping to one knee and, without taking her eyes off Vaughn, placing a hand on Reggie’s neck. “Now aren’t you just the big man, locking women in your cellar and beating up defenseless kids.”

  Niall signaled Shep to stay put, giving him a soft thump on the head to let the dog know he meant business, then started working his way around the clearing only to be stopped by a sheer vertical drop down to a stream gushing through a deep chasm. Well, sheer but for the hand – and toeholds conveniently jutting out of the craggy granite. With a sigh of resignation—because he really didn’t want to shoot the idiot—and after a quick glance to make sure Birch was keeping her distance, Niall dropped over the side and began working his way behind Vaughn.

  “Leave here!” he heard the bastard yell. “This isn’t your business. And you can take that evil defiler of women with you!”

  “Daddy, no!” Niall heard Misty scream.

  “Let her go, you sick bastard!” Birch shouted.

  Niall popped his head up to see Ike Vaughn dragging his struggling daughter toward the cliff and Birch rushing toward them. But he stopped from vaulting up over the side when a sharp crack of thunder suddenly split the air, making Vaughn halt and look up at the cloudless sky.

  Birch also halted. “There you go!” she shouted. “Now you’ve pissed off God.”

  Nay, Niall thought with a grin; the bastard had pissed off Nicholas.

  “You’re the one making Him angry!” Vaughn retorted. “That was a sign your interference is unwanted as I rid the world of this fornicator and the devil’s spawn she carries!” he shouted, giving his daughter’s arm a shake.

  Despite the sound of the rushing stream, Niall had no trouble hearing Birch’s gasp as he finally realized why Reggie hadn’t waited until nightfall. He reached to the back of his belt, pulled out his pistol, and rested his arms on the ledge and took aim—only to find Sally Vaughn had dropped to her knees and was blocking his line of sight.

  “You really are a stupid son of a bitch,” Birch shouted. “Everyone knows thunder is a warning that you’re about to get shot dead if you take one step closer to that cliff.”

  Okay then; since Birch had obviously reached the same conclusion, Niall began inching his way to the right even as he wondered what was taking Nicholas so long. The moment he had a clear shot, he rested his arms on the ledge again and clicked off the safety—but had to jerk the muzzle away when Sally suddenly lunged forward.

  With the feral growl of an enraged mother bear, the woman smashed the rock she was holding into her husband’s head, the momentum of her charge pushing Vaughn closer to the edge of the cliff. Sally managed to tear her daughter free of his grip, then started pummeling the bastard, trying to free herself as Misty scrambled to her feet and frantically started tugging on her mother.

  Niall dropped his pistol and stretched sideways, managing to snag Misty’s jacket when Vaughn gave an angry shout and dragged both women over the cliff with him.

  “Stop struggling,” Niall snapped at the screaming girl as she flailed beneath him. “I have you, but ye need to stay still. Birch,” he said when a shadow fell over them with a cry of relief accompanied by a canine whine. “Take off your jacket and lower the sleeve down to me. Misty, I need ye to calmly reach up and take hold of the sleeve, but don’t tug on it or try climbing, understand? Say ye understand, lass.”

  “I—I understand. Where’s Mama? Mama!”

  “Concentrate on us right now.” His position making it impossible for him to look up, Niall felt the shadow fall over them again a moment later. “Is there a sturdy bush you can use as an anchor?” he called up to Birch. “Something you can fold the other sleeve around to help offset some of Misty’s weight?” he asked, knowing there wasn’t enough material to tie it off. “I only need ye to hold her until I can reposition myself.”

  “I see something,” Birch said loudly over the rushing water.

  “Are ye braced?” he asked when the sleeve was lowered beside him.

  “I am now,” she called out after a moment.

  Niall carefully lifted Misty closer to the dangling garment. “I won’t let ye fall, lass,” he said when she whimpered. “Okay, now slowly reach up and feel for the sleeve, but remember not to—”

  “What’s going on? Misty!”

  “Reggie!” the girl cried, twisting to look up.

  “Hold still!” Niall snapped. “Reggie, are you in any shape to help?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Hold on to the jacket with Birch. Misty, reach up and grab the sleeve. Higher and behind your head. That’s it. Now your other hand. Are you two ready up there?”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Birch said roughly.

  “Misty,” Niall said calmly. “Slowly turn until you’re facing the ledge and feel for some toeholds. Easy now,” he added when her shoulder bumped the wall and she cried out again. “Just feel with your feet and then make sure whatever ye stand on is solid before you put your full weight on it.”

  Niall gritted his teeth against the strain on his arm as the girl twisted and floundered to find her footing, her whimpers turning to sobs when she repeatedly slipped and banged against the sharp granite.

  “I can’t do it!” she cried. “Reggie, I don’t want to die!”

  “Calm down!” Reggie shouted. “Niall won’t let you fall,” he continued, his tone turning soothing. “He’s stronger than Iron Man, Mist. If we have a boy, we’re going to name it after him. You need to keep trying for our baby.”

  A small cascade of dirt fell at the same time Niall became aware of a shadow moving over him again. “Don’t come down here!” he growled, afraid one of them was going to try climbing down to help her.

  “I can see a small ledge just to the right of your knee, Misty,” Reggie said. “It’s wide enough for you to stand on with both feet. Raise your right foot.”

  Niall gave another growl when the lass started jerking again, then bit back a curse when a good deal of her weight lifted and the pain of a hundred stabbing daggers shot up his arm. “Don’t move,” he said tightly, not daring to release his hold on the trembling girl. “Just stand on the ledge and get your bearings.”

  “Niall,” Reggie said. “I have a tow strap in my four-wheeler.”

  Finally able to look up, Niall saw Reggie hanging out over the edge, the side of the boy’s face already swelling and his mouth oozing blood. “Birch, do ye have a firm hold on the jacket?”

  “I do,” she answered, although Niall couldn’t see her. “And it’s anchored.”

  “Even Shep has his teeth clamped on it,” Reggie added, actually grinning.

  “Then go get the strap,” Niall said, looking at the wall between him and the girl as he surreptitiously rolled his right shoulder to relieve some of the sharp daggers—figuring the last thing he needed was for his arm to go numb.

  Where in hell was Nicholas?

  “He . . . he intended to kill me,” Misty sobbed, glancing down into the chasm. “My dad was going to
. . . He wanted to throw me away.” She looked at Niall, her large, frightened eyes filling with tears. “M-my mom’s dead.”

  “There’s a chance she landed in a deep pool,” Niall told her, wanting to deal with one situation at a time. He carefully adjusted his hold on her jacket to see if his hand would cooperate, and gave the girl an encouraging smile. “Your mama appears to be made of stern stuff, lass, and is probably clinging to a rock waiting for us to climb down and fish her out. Do ye feel steady enough for me to move over beside you?”

  “No, don’t let me go!”

  “I need both of my hands to get to you. The ledge you’re on is solid and the sleeve you’re holding is anchored. Lean into the wall and see if you don’t feel steady. I’ll keep holding on while ye try.”

  “I have the strap,” Reggie called out just as more dirt fell on them. “Do you want me to send it down with a large loop threaded through your end?”

  “How long is it?” Niall asked.

  “Twenty-five or thirty feet.”

  “Can ye tie it to something strong enough to hold our combined weight?”

  “There’s a pretty good-sized tree close by,” Reggie said after a moment.

  Even though the top of his head was only three or four feet below the lip of the cliff, Niall didn’t dare risk using a slipknot for fear of snapping Misty’s ribs if she lost her footing and fell. “Secure it to the tree, then lower the end without making a loop. I’ll tie it around Misty and you and Birch can haul her up.” He shot the lass a smile. “You ready to let me move beside you?”

  Her eyes uncertain and her face as pale as new snow, Misty sucked in a shuddering breath and adjusted her grip until she was holding the sleeve with one hand, then grabbed a piece of protruding ledge with the other and nodded. “I . . . I’m ready.”

  Niall loosened his grip on her jacket, gritting his teeth against the pain shooting through his arm that now felt like lead. Transferring his weight to his left leg, he let go of the crag he’d been gripping, found a new handhold closer to her, then slowly placed his right foot onto the same ledge she was standing on. “You’re okay,” he said at her gasp when he pressed against her. “I’m just going to lean here beside you. Move your shoulders away from the wall, Misty,” he instructed when the strap appeared. “I need to wrap it around you just under your arms and tie it off. That’s my girl,” he said when she leaned back ever so slightly.