My Highlander

by Terry Spear

  Still, no matter how much she practiced, she didn’t have the weight or massive muscles, and long reach of their great swords. But she was fleet of foot, and she knew every bit of the keep, the grounds, and the outlying farms. She always used what she could to her advantage like her da and others had taught her. “You are sure he is not a sailor then? Or a fisherman?”

  “A warrior, by the looks of him. Muscled, strong, tall, wounded. Not an archer, unless he lost his bow and quiver of arrows. But he wouldna be carrying a sword too then, I wouldna think.”

  “That doesna bode well. Unless he is dead.”

  They made their way across a creek and rushed over several rocky knolls covered in heather and bracken and finally reached the cliffs and the path that wound down to the shore. They’d never found a man alive before, who’d been washed up on their shores after a storm. It would have to be when most of their men were gone, off to support a war between clans on the mainland of Scotland. Three of the men left behind were off hunting. Only seven were left to defend the keep at all costs, and she wasn’t about to bother them when she was certain she would have this well in hand.

  Especially since it would be a miracle if this man had survived. But he could be the worst sort of trouble too.

  “What do we do with him if he’s alive? We canna put him in the dungeon.”

  Avelina glanced at her cousin, who was her age. They’d always been close growing up. Her father served Fenella’s father, Avelina’s uncle, as his second-in-command. The two men were brothers and best of friends. “We dinna have a dungeon.”

  “Aye, which is why we canna put him in one. What are we going to do with him, if he’s alive?” Fenella asked.

  “I should’ve brought Wolf.”

  “To kill the injured man?” Fenella’s eyes widened with surprise. “Shouldna we make sure he’s no’ going to be trouble first? He could repair our farmers’ crofts, mayhap,” she reminded Avelina, “and we need some muscle to help build the west wall that was damaged in the storm. It will take a lot more men than we have right now.”

  “You said he is injured.” Avelina was beginning to worry that the man was waiting to cut them down with his sword, if he was as armed and dangerous looking as Fenella believed, and he wasn’t badly injured or dead.

  “He is. He was lying still in the sand, his head and arm bleeding. The tide had gone out, but if we dinna move him, it will carry him back out.”

  “If he is dead, the tide can take him out, and the fish can eat him, which would save us from having to bury him.” Avelina didn’t mean it, of course. She could just imagine the body being drawn out and rolled back in with each new tide. What a horrible sight and smell that would be.

  When they finally reached the shore, there was no sign of any man. Fenella looked right, then left.

  “Where is he? Farther down the beach?” Avelina asked, believing her cousin had been mistaken as to where he had ended up exactly.

  “He was right there.” Fenella motioned to a group of rocks. “Right next to those rocks. And his head was bleeding. I didna imagine it. He was right there.” Fenella pointed again toward the rocks.

  “Maybe he’s a selkie and swam off again.” When Avelina was a child, her mother had told her the stories of selkies who removed their seal skins, becoming human, and luring a woman or man with their beauty. Some believed the stories were true. Some did not. When Avelina had bairns of her own, she would tell her children about them and let them decide for themselves. She didn’t believe in selkies, but it didn’t mean they weren’t real.

  “He wasna naked. Almost though. A selkie would be naked as a new-born bairn.” Fenella sounded quite sure of it, and she did believe in them.

  “Nearly naked?” Avelina had tended to men’s wounds since she was a young lass, and she was used to seeing men nearly naked, but she’d known them forever. Tending to a naked stranger was an entirely different matter, especially if he was a danger to them.

  “Aye. His plaid was draped over a leg, his shirt ripped to shreds.”

  Avelina stopped to look at her.

  “He is well-muscled. I told you so. Mayhap he’s beyond those rocks.” Fenella motioned to another group of rocks, waiting for Avelina to move beyond them, her sword at the ready.

  Not that Avelina could fight a warrior and win the battle, if he was healthy and ready to kill her. “If he is beyond them, he had to have… wait. There are tracks.” She pointed to the crawl marks that the water hadn’t washed away. “He crawled beyond the edge of the rocks. And if he has any clothes at all, he isna a selkie. Come on.” Instead of following his trail in the white sand, she climbed to the top of the rocks to give her an advantage. When she crested them, she saw a man lying on the other side of them on the damp sand, his eyes closed, his brown hair streaked by the sun, lying in straggles across his cheek.

  Fenella was right. He was nearly naked, a muscled warrior, a wet plaid draped over his leg and his most private parts, his long shirt tattered, his sword still sheathed at his waist. A gash across his forehead and right arm were bleeding.

  Splintered wood had washed up on shore near him, the only remnants left of the ship he must have sailed on. Sometimes, another storm or the shifting tide would carry more of a ship’s goods to the shore for weeks afterward, so they might be able to salvage something from the shipwreck. She just hoped they didn’t find any more bodies, dead or alive.

  Avelina turned to her cousin. “Return at once to the keep to retrieve some of my brother’s clothes for him and rags, so I can stop the bleeding.”

  “And leave you alone with him?” Fenella sounded horrified.

  Avelina considered the man. “You can take his sword and sgian dubh, and then he willna be armed. Just try not to be seen with them. Send Wolf to me. He’ll reach me a lot faster than you will, and he will be additional protection if I should need it.”

  Fenella hesitated, studied the prone man, took a deep breath, and let it out, then nodded. “I will make haste.”

  When Fenella scrambled down the rocks to return to the keep, Avelina climbed down to where the man was lying and poked at his shoulder with the toe of her shoe, but he didn’t move. She watched as his chest rose and fell, assuring herself that he was still living, his breathing steady, not labored. A rough stubble covered his square jaw. He was bewitchingly braw, unconscious, and looked disarmingly safe, but she knew not to be taken in by the deception. She would do well to keep her distance until Wolf was standing at her side, ready to tear the man to shreds if he showed any indication he wished to harm her.

  Yet, she couldn’t help herself and crouched closer to brush her hand over his sun-warmed muscles speckled with bits of white sand. She swore his breathing sped up a bit. She quickly rose to her feet, stepped back, and stared down at the man, observing him for any other sign of movement. Was he pretending to be dead? Or a selkie who had cast his seal skin into the briny sea, luring a maiden to fall in love with him? He couldn’t be. Not when he was partially clothed and was revealing so much of his glorious self.

  2

  Quinn knew he was in a bad way when he made it to the sandy beach, his head and arm paining him, both burning and stinging at the same time, his ribs aching, but he’d been lucky to even make it to shore. He hoped the remaining four men who had accompanied him hadn’t survived. Even if they might have been an aid to each other in hostile territory, they no doubt would still be trying to kill him. He didn’t believe they’d behave any differently if he met up with them on the island when they’d tried to murder him on the ship during the height of the storm. He hadn’t been sure if the storm had meant his salvation, or his demise, but since he was still alive, he’d say it was his salvation, despite the tight fix he could be in now.

  Then he heard two women coming, confused about where he’d disappeared to. The fact they’d come alone while looking for him, and not sent men who might have killed him, said a lot about their situation. They didn’t have any men close by to take care of the matter.
No one in their right mind would send lasses to do a man’s job. Not when the one woman knew full well he was armed and could be dangerous.

  The women, cousins, from what they’d said, must have thought him mortally wounded since they hadn’t lowered their voices while searching for him, alerting him they were growing closer. Despite the crashing of the waves against the beach and the seabirds calling out high above, he’d heard them well enough. He just hoped the other men with him hadn’t survived and couldn’t cause them trouble. He’d been certain the ship had been close to the island where they needed to land before waves crashing into them broke the ship in two and it quickly filled with water, the men’s shouting silenced forever. But now Quinn didn’t have a way to take the woman back to his brother either.

  Fenella. She was the woman who had returned to get Avelina’s brother’s clothes for Quinn.

  And Avelina? The lass who’d run her soft hand over his heated skin. He wished she’d do it again, for longer and over more of his body that wasn’t battered.

  She seemed to be the one in charge, or at least of the two women, which confused him if Fenella was supposed to be the chief’s daughter. Quinn had planned to guard his sword and sgian dubh with his life—especially considering he would most likely have to fight what remained of his brother’s own mercenaries to the death, if any of them had survived. He had believed the men would be smart enough to wait until they had the woman in hand and were returning to their lands. He was known to be a fierce warrior and it would have been to their advantage had they used him to assist them in escorting the woman home. He had misjudged them.

  When Quinn had felt Avelina’s warm hand on his chest, he realized he must have drifted into unconsciousness before she touched him, and now the other woman was hurrying off with his weapons, because his sword and sheath were no longer belted at his waist. He could have easily taken Avelina hostage, but then what would he do? He couldn’t take her anywhere, or fight her people to keep her.

  He wanted to open his eyes and see what the lass looked like, and wondered about her cousin’s appearance too and what his brother was getting himself into—if Quinn managed to take her home to him. But he was even having second thoughts about that. Still, if Fenella wanted to leave her kin to live with his brother, he would do it for her, not for his brother. He hoped she wasn’t making a mistake in wanting to be Cormac’s wife, though Quinn reminded himself that his difficulties with his brother didn’t mean Cormac couldn’t make the lass happy.

  Admittedly, Quinn did enjoy proving to Cormac that, try as he might, he couldn’t easily kill him. Even though at the moment, Quinn was feeling bruised and beaten, and that it wouldn’t take too much to finish the job. He couldn’t just murder his brother outright either. Without a good enough reason, he knew many of his clansmen, having declared their loyalty to their chief, would turn on him, and Quinn would be dead anyway. For now, he didn’t have much of a choice. Hire out as a mercenary for some other clan, if Malcolm MacNeill wouldn’t take him in? He suspected his brother would still try to have him killed. What was worse was, as much as he’d tried to come up with a plausible reason, he didn’t know why his brother wanted him dead.

  Cloth swept over his uninjured shoulder as Avelina moved around on the sand near his body, and the tender sweep of the fabric felt foreign to the rest of the way he was feeling. He’d relocated to this side of the rocks, hoping to crawl further away from the remnants of the ship, but he hadn’t made it very far. And he knew he had to move beyond where the tide was sure to reach. He envisioned having made it safely to the beach, and then drowning in high tide.

  Her hands brushed his skin where part of his shirt hung in tatters over his chest. And he practically sighed. Every time she touched him, she made other parts of his body stir, while he was trying to keep from thinking about how he was enjoying her touch. Her touching him was undoing him. What if she saw his staff rising with eagerness when he was supposed to be half dead?

  A strip of his shirt gave way with a rip. He envisioned her tying his wrists together, to protect herself. Instead, she carefully tied the strip of wool around his head, her touch gentle, probably so she wouldn’t wake him.

  Once she was done, she moved around him again, her warm hands brushing his skin, tormenting him in an exquisite way, and then she tore off another strip of cloth with a rip. Either she was impatient and couldn’t wait for her cousin to return with her brother’s clothes and rags, or she worried he was bleeding too much. He wondered how her brother would feel about her offering his clothing to a complete stranger who planned to whisk his cousin away to another clan to wed a man her family didn’t want her to wed. Her brother would want to kill Quinn. He must not be on the island right now.

  Avelina tied the cloth around the wound on Quinn’s arm, just as gently as she did for his head wound.

  He should let her know he was awake, but he was afraid she would fear him too much, and for now, he wanted her to be at ease. As difficult as it had been to crawl as far as he had, his head splitting in two, he wasn’t sure he could even sit up again.

  Then again, if she knew he had come to take her cousin to his brother, Avelina might be ecstatic with the news. If she would be happy that her cousin would wed the man she wanted to. Quinn was about to open his eyes and speak when he heard something that sounded like a huge dog galloping across the sand, too big to be a normal dog, too small to be a horse—most likely a wolfhound that took down wolves. Ironic that she should call him Wolf.

  “Wolf, where is Fenella?” Avelina sighed. “On her way, I suspect. You are so fleet of foot, you must have known I needed you here at once, and came as soon as she gave the order.” Avelina’s words were soft, hushed, trying not to wake Quinn, he thought. The dog started to sniff him all over, pushing aside his plaid, uncovering his manhood. He’d had his fair share of hunting dogs poke their noses at his crotch, but this time, he didn’t know the dog, and he’d exposed him to the woman, who could be ready to faint.

  God’s wounds, Quinn sorely wanted to cover his staff and protect himself from the dog.

  “Wolf,” Avelina said, her voice harsh, but hushed as she scolded him, and then gingerly, the plaid brushed across his staff, the wool shifting back in place.

  Either she’d been looking away when the dog poked around at him, or she’d waited to get a good eyeful before she covered him back up because he was exposed for entirely too long before she even scolded the dog.

  He heard her climb the rocks and turn to the dog. “Stay, Wolf. Guard him. If he moves, you know what to do.”

  The dog sat next to Quinn’s head and did as the woman commanded. He thought she might be departing the area to help her cousin. Quinn waited and didn’t open his eyes. What if Avelina was opposed to her cousin leaving the island and marrying his brother? He needed to speak to Fenella privately about the matter.

  He still hadn’t heard Avelina climbing down the rocks on the other side.

  She let out her breath, and he thought her back was to him, so he chanced a peek. Petite, standing on top of the rocks, her gown billowing in the breeze, a plaid wrapped around her shoulders, she watched toward the direction from which she and the other woman must have come. Wisps of braided red gold hair fluttered about her shoulders. Was she green-eyed? Blue-eyed? He wished he could see.

  But now what worried him most was that the waves were beginning to roll in, inching closer as the tide was coming in. He looked over at the dog to see if it was a wolfhound like he suspected, and his jaw hung agape.

  The dog was a large gray wolf with white markings, black and gray face, a white muzzle and chest, and a saddle of gray and black. A wolf!

  Wolf was panting, watching the lass, but when Quinn caught his eye, he pulled in his tongue and studied Quinn. Thankfully, Quinn had a way with beasts of all kinds. At least he thought the wolf would protect him as much as he’d protect the lass. Though Quinn suspected if he did anything to frighten the woman, the wolf would take her side over his.

>   “You’re awake,” Avelina said, sounding both shocked and annoyed.

  His heart thundering, he quickly shifted his gaze to the woman, her beautiful blue eyes narrowed at him, and he said the first thing that came to mind. “He’s a wolf.”

  “Aye, and he will kill you if I give the command.”

  “I’m surprised your da would allow you to have a wolf for a pet.”

  “I raised him from a pup. We are close. If you try to lay a hand on me, he’ll take it right off. Dinna you forget that.”

  “I willna.” Not that he wouldn’t want to kiss her beautiful, pursed lips, or pull her into a warm embrace, feeling all of her winsome curves now on display as the wind tightened the fabric around them.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “My name is Quinn. The ship I was on was lost at sea.”

  “I am Avelina, and you are now my prisoner.”

  “Prisoner.”

  She shrugged. “Wolf will be watching every move you make. You couldna take a step from here before he’d take you down. If you cause any trouble, we’ll put you in the dungeon. Dinna test my resolve. And if you think you’re going to escape the island, where do you think you’d go? Swim to the mainland? You’d never make it.”

  He raised a brow. He expected someone in charge to say that, if he didn’t outright kill Quinn. But a beautiful woman? He would be her prisoner any day. Then he came to his senses, somewhat, recalling her cousin was supposed to wed his brother.

  “What were you doing in the area?” Avelina asked.

  “I was on my way to pick up my brother’s bride, but the storm hit us and tore the ship carrying me to shreds, as well you know. Do they always put you in charge of prisoners?”

  “Someday, I’ll be married, and I’ll be in charge when my husband is away.” Avelina quickly added, “Which is why our chief has me take care of minor issues like this.”