“And just who are ye who dares to speak for the Lady of the Wood?” asked the largest man. His glare shifted to Brenna, and he spit. “Heartless murderess that she is.”
“I am the protector of the Lady of the Wood,” Magnus said, barely holding himself back at such disrespect.
“Protector,” the brother repeated. “Husband? We always thought her alone. Just her and the fae child some have seen charming the animals of the wood.”
If acting as her husband would guarantee Brenna’s safety, then so be it. “War called me away, but now I have returned to my wife and son.” He sliced the air with his sword, daring them to come closer. “Leave now. Go and bury yer kin. Honor them as ye should.”
“I’ll have ye know we’ve gone to the council about the poisons yer wife hands out,” the brother on the right said, his tone calm but menacing. “This isna over.”
“Ye will pay!” threatened the large one with a raised fist as they turned to leave. “We mean to see to it!” The woods closed in around them as they headed back toward the village.
“We must leave here as quick as ye can pack yer things,” Magnus ordered, striding down the path several steps to ensure the men had departed for certain. “Keigan can ride with Evander, and ye can ride with me.” When Brenna didn’t respond, he turned to see why.
Arrow still nocked, she had lowered the bow and rested it against her skirts. She stared at the path, but Magnus could tell she didn’t see a thing other than what had just happened. He recognized the fear and uncertainty storming in her eyes. Panic held her prisoner.
“Brenna,” he said gently. “We will get ye from here safe. I swear it. Ye and Keigan both. But we must hurry before they return.”
“But I…this is our home. We worked so verra hard to build it.”
“I know, lass.” The despair in her voice broke his heart, but there was nothing that could be done for it. “The two of ye made a fine life here, but it appears it is time to change—like the seasons. Ye know nothing ever stays the same.”
“I had hoped we were done with running,” she said as she turned and moved slowly across the clearing. “I am so weary of running.”
Silently, he motioned for Evander to ready the horses, then moved to walk beside her. “Ye are nay running alone this time. I’ll keep ye safe. I swear it.”
“Auntie?” Keigan stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and troubled. “We have to leave our house?”
“I fear so, my dear one.” She stopped and lifted her face to the sky, closing her eyes as though praying.
Magnus crouched at Keigan’s level. “We are all leaving together. The villagers are angry and confused, and when folk get that way, they say and do things they shouldna do. But we mean to ride away before they return. I swear, Keigan, I will keep ye and yer auntie safe.”
Keigan dove forward and hit his chest, clutching him tight. “I am afeared,” he whispered. “Those mean men sounded like Mr. Wicklow when he called Auntie ugly names and hit her.”
At first, Magnus didn’t know how to react or what to say, but then instinct and a stirring warmth in his chest overtook him. He hugged the boy and picked him up as he stood. “I will keep Auntie just as safe and happy as I intend to keep ye safe and happy, ye ken? Ye can ride with Evander. Ye would like that, would ye not?”
The child sniffed and nodded but kept his face tucked in the crook of Magnus’s neck.
He patted the little lad’s back and held him. “But for now, we must gather our supplies. Ye dinna wish to leave behind what’s left of Granny Wick’s jam, now do ye?”
“We can take the jam with us?” Keigan lifted his head and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Magnus nodded as he lowered the lad to his feet. “Aye, son. The jam and all the other supplies she sent, but we need to hurry so we can get on our way as soon as possible.”
Keigan gave him a quivering smile. “I’ll gather my things quick as a blink.” Then he scampered off, grabbing up bits and bobs and stuffing them into a cloth sack.
“Where will we go?” Brenna asked quietly from behind him.
Magnus turned and risked taking her hand. She looked pale and suddenly very weary, but at least she didn’t pull away. “I intend to keep my word to Keigan,” he said. “For now, we will just go away from here to keep ye both safe. He still has the right to decide whether he wishes to be my son and return with me to Tor Ruadh.”
Brenna stared at him as though trees had just sprouted from both his ears. “Ye would still give him his choice? Even when this madness could work to yer advantage?”
“I gave the boy my word.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I gave that same word to ye.” Pausing, he wrestled with what he knew needed saying, but the words would only bring him sorrow. Against his will, he forced the pledge out. “And if the two of ye decide ye dinna wish me in yer lives, I shall see that yer settled safe somewhere, any place of yer choosing, and then I will leave ye be.” A sadness overcame him. “But I would ask if I might return and visit once in a while—just to see yerself and the boy. Make certain ye’re faring well?” The thought of them living without his protection pained him, troubled him more than he wished. But he would keep his word, even though it would rend his heart in two.
“My sister was right,” she whispered, easing her hand free of his and hugging it to her middle. “Ye must surely be the kindest man in all the world. And the most decent.”
The stirring in his chest warmed even more. It swelled through him, threatening to cut off his air. It took a forced swallow to enable him to speak. “I dinna think I am any of those things, lass. I am just a man trying to do what’s right.”
Chapter Five
Their mounts slowed to a halt as they reached the summit of a steep rise. In silence, they looked back. The billowing column of smoke in the distance twisted like a knife in Brenna’s heart. Her and Keigan’s cozy home was no more. It had been little, but it had been theirs, and they had enjoyed many a happy time there.
“Why did they burn it?” Keigan asked from his seat in front of Evander.
“Because they’re stupid bastards,” Evander supplied before anyone else offered a more mature reply.
Magnus turned to scold the boy, but Brenna stopped him with a quick pat on his back. “Leave him be,” she said, thankful for the unlikely saviors Divine Providence had sent just in time. If Magnus and Evander hadn’t shown up when they had, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. The man she had hated since her sister’s death wasn’t the man sitting in front of her. Nay, that foul imagining had been a heartless monster who cared for no one other than himself. Magnus was not that monster.
She tightened her hold on his belt and patted his back again. “Let us be gone now, aye? What’s done is done, and canna be changed. No sense staring at where we have been.”
“We’ll ride west for a while to gain some distance from them. Then cross back to the coastline for easier traveling south.” He urged his horse onward at a good clip. “Three days to Inverness. We’ll head that way ’til Master Keigan decides his future. Would that suit ye well enough, in case he decides the two of ye should go on without me?”
Her heart twitched at the way he said that. She felt and heard the melancholy in his tone. But it wasn’t just that. The thought of Keigan casting Magnus aside almost made her sad. She shook away the dangerous tenderness, refusing to give it a minute more of her time.
“What say ye, lass?” Magnus urged, turning his head for her answer.
“Aye. That’ll do just fine.” Whatever the man thought best. She couldn’t think straight. The past few days had been nothing but a wearying upheaval she hadn’t foreseen.
Evander thundered past, pushing his horse into the lead. As they cantered down the rolling hillside, Keigan’s laughter filled the air.
“No faster, Evander!” Magnus shouted after them. A disgruntled growl rumbled from him. “I swear that youngling keeps his head up his arse half the time.”
His frustration made
Brenna smile. “’Tis part of the trials and joys of parenting.”
“How in the name of all that’s holy do ye bear it?”
“Bear what?”
“The worrying about him.” Magnus nudged his horse into a smooth gallop to catch up with the boys. Exasperation and wonder filled his voice as he shouted back at her, “Will he get hurt? Is he hungry? Is he ailing? Does he understand why I tell him what I do? God’s beard! Does it never end?”
The ranting of his insecurities over the thundering gait made Brenna laugh. “I dinna think it will ever end,” she called out. “Remember—this is my first time raising a bairn, too.”
Magnus slowed the horse. Thankfully, they no longer needed to shout. “I thought women were born knowing.”
“Born knowing how to raise a bairn?”
“Aye.”
“Not born knowing but taught.” An old bitterness flared, prodding her to add, “At least some clans teach women about bairns. If there’s an elder who cares enough to offer advice.” As soon as she shared her resentment, she regretted it because the conversation came to a halt. Perhaps it was just as well. In her current state, she risked saying more than she should. No one cared to listen to a snarling harpy, and she didn’t wish to sound like one.
They rode on in silence for a long while. Warm sun on her back and the repetitive thump of the horse’s hooves. The hypnotic combination lulled her past the point of caring about decorum. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so wrong to just lean against him for a moment or two while she rested her eyes. Nothing improper about that. The linen of his tunic, soft from many washings, almost gave her a sense of comfort and safety. Or was it the raw power in the muscular body shifting beneath the cloth? And he didn’t reek like most of the men they had forced her to tolerate. Nay, some sort of aromatic spice blended with his pleasant, manly musk. She breathed in deep, then tightened her grip on his belt and relaxed even more. Her cheek settled in the inviting dip between his shoulder blades. Surely, he would understand and not take offense if she rested against him for just a moment.
“Hold up!”
Brenna jolted awake, disoriented and shaken. “What…what’s wrong?”
“Ye were about to slide off, lass,” Magnus said with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “Come. Sit in front of me so I can keep ye from falling whilst ye rest.”
“Nay, I’m…I am fine,” she mumbled, blinking against the lingering sleepiness.
“Nay.” Magnus twisted in the saddle, wrapped an arm around her, and pulled, sliding her off the back of the horse and settling her neatly in the front of him before she could argue. He tucked her snugly against his chest, then kneed the mount back into motion. “Rest yerself. There’s no shame in it. The past several days have been a trial, and ye’ve slept verra little. What with my showing up. Angry villagers. Losing yer home. ’Tis no wonder ye’re bone-weary. Grant yerself this time of rest whilst we ride. I’d say ye’ve more than earned it after everything ye’ve done to protect Keigan with no one to help ye.”
“Well…” A humbling guilt filled her at such lavish praise. “I canna take credit for everything. Granny Wick was a great help. If not for her kindness, Keigan wouldha been born in a stable much like our Lord and Savior.”
“Quite a few years have passed betwixt then and now.” Magnus’s arm tightened around her as they maneuvered across a ridge dotted with large stones. “I’d say the lion’s share of the credit for the lad’s health and well-being should still go to yerself.”
“Ye’re verra kind,” she said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear. At the very least, she needed to dislike this man. She had given up on hating him. But becoming his ally and helping him grow close to Keigan would only result in the loss of her sweet child.
If her wee one left for Tor Ruadh, what purpose would she have in this life? She tucked her chin and allowed herself to lean against Magnus, closing her eyes to prevent further discourse. The more he talked, the more he heaped praise and thankfulness upon her, the more unsettled she felt. Considering Magnus de Gray the enemy had become almost impossible.
Even though the idea of sleeping again seemed farfetched, the next time Brenna opened her eyes, the countryside had transformed. Gone were the rolling hills dotted with clusters of trees here and there. Dense woods had taken their place. Steeper inclines and gnarled crags. The long shadows where the sun pierced through the canopy of thick pines told her it was later in the day. She straightened, reluctantly pushing away from the warm muscular chest that had made quite a comforting pillow. “Where are we?”
“The heart of the northern tip of Scotland. Probably farther inland than ye’ve been in a while. Still about two days’ ride from Inverness.” He brought the animal to a stop. “This looks to be a good place to tarry for a bit. The horses need rest and water.”
“And I need to make a pee,” Keigan said, grabbing hold of Evander’s sleeve and swinging down to the ground before anyone could offer a hand with his dismounting. He scurried to the nearest tree and let out a relieved groan as his stream hit a mound of pine needles.
“Best steer clear of that tree’s shed for pallets,” Evander teased. “He’s done soaked them through.”
“Ye dinna need to pee?” the child asked while still watering the base of the tree.
Evander joined him and, with his back to Brenna, set to releasing a stream of his own. “Aye, and this be a good enough place, I reckon.”
Magnus chuckled, then offered his forearm to her. “Take my arm, and I’ll swing ye down so ye might escape these two unmannerly heathens and tend to yer own needs.”
“I thank ye.” As soon as both feet hit the ground, she shook out her skirts and hurried off behind a thicket. She needed some relief after so long in the saddle. As she took care of pressing matters, she listened to Magnus get the boys started on several chores. Their conversations made her smile. The man claimed to know nothing about parenting, yet the way he handled the lads said otherwise.
A great deal more comfortable, she emerged from behind the bushes. Her feet sank into the soft thickness of pine needles as she looked around. A deep breath treated her to the sharp, clean scent of the trees. She’d be harvesting some of those long green needles for steeping. Chopped and steeped in boiling water, they made a pleasant hot drink to stave off a morning’s chill.
She paused and glanced upward again, unable to get an unobstructed view of the sun’s position through the treetops. “Will we spend the night here?” No sense gathering what she needed for the brew if they would soon be on their way.
Magnus studied the place as he walked around the naturally formed clearing the land had been kind enough to provide. “Aye. I believe so. We covered a lot of ground today, and whilst our beasts are fine and hardy, they’re nay used to carrying two riders and all the additional supplies we loaded. They could use a good night’s rest.” He grinned. “And I’m not too proud to admit I would enjoy a brief stay here, too.”
“There’s fish!” Keigan’s excited shout came from somewhere deeper among the trees.
“He’s already caught one!” Evander crowed before the echo of Keigan’s excitement had fully faded.
“They’re supposed to be watering the horses,” Magnus said with a failed attempt at sounding stern.
“Keigan loves guddling for trout,” Brenna explained. “Almost as much as he loves eating them.” She shrugged. “And the boy has a talent for it. I assure ye we shall eat well tonight, considering all we just heard.”
Magnus stared at her as though he didn’t believe what she had just said. “Five years old and already an expert at tickling fish from a burn?”
“Aye.” His surprise pleased her. Most men didn’t think a woman could survive alone in the wild, much less train a child to survive, too. “He’s also adept with a bow and almost better at throwing daggers than I am. Ye saw him throw the stones.” She squared her shoulders. “And I am none too shabby at daggers and stones either, mind ye.”
Magnus shook his head, then trudg
ed off toward the boys’ shouts. “I reckon I best see to the horses and the filling of the water bags, myself,” he called back to her.
Brenna knew better. If Magnus was like most men, he’d be down at that stream cheering Keigan on before she could blink twice. A sadness overcame her as she busied herself with pushing dried pine needles into piles for their pallets. A father and son would naturally share the joys of hunting and fishing. Keigan had enjoyed learning the skills from her, but now he and Magnus would be on equal footing and able to share in the hunt’s thrill. They would quickly forget her.
Cutting a branch from a nearby tree, she used it as a broom to clear the area of broken sticks, pinecones, and whatever else cluttered the encampment. The longer she swept, the more she thought about losing Keigan. She wasn’t a fool. As kind as Magnus had been, why wouldn’t the lad choose to accept him as a father? After all, how many times had the boy asked about his parents over the years?
Brenna suddenly regretted that she hadn’t instilled a deep, dark hatred for the man within Keigan. A bitter laugh escaped her. She hadn’t painted Magnus in a good light, but neither had she raised the boy with the undying need to hunt the man down and kill him. Nay, she could never have done that. Her conscience wouldn’t allow it. The fault of Keigan’s begetting didn’t fall fully on his father’s shoulders. Her sister had known full well what could spring from her ridiculous plan. Brenna swept harder, attacking the ground with a vengeance. Aye, but there was no way her sibling could have known all the chaos that would spring from that one fateful decision.
A horse’s snort made her turn. Magnus led both steeds while carrying the bulging water bags slung over one shoulder. “He’s already caught enough for supper. Fine, fat trout. Now, he’s helping Evander set traps for game and find ramps and mushrooms to go with them.” He draped the straps of the leather water bags over a branch, then stretched a rope between two trees and secured the beasts. “I promised him I’d help clean the fish. He left them by the stream. I’ll bring them to ye once I’ve finished.”
The Ghost Page 7
