by Amy Jarecki
Then her stomach squelched. Will the medallion ever send me home?
It had to.
She needed to stop worrying.
With an exhale, she relaxed against his chest. God, how a man could be so incredibly warm in this chilly weather, Eva would never know. Dammit, she was a woman for Christ’s sakes. She lived like a nun for eight years. Mourned the loss of this man for all of them. And now…
She couldn’t think about it.
She glanced over to Robbie. The lad had a determined scowl on his face. Gone was the carefree boy who had often made her laugh—who had taught her how to ride a horse—who she’d comforted in her arms when he mourned the loss of his friend. Riding with him would no longer be an option.
***
She caught a glimpse of a big monolith in the distance. “Are we heading toward Loudoun Hill?”
“Aye.”
Eva had been there before in medieval times and modern. Presently, the terrain was so different—far more forested. Traveling through Scotland was rough with few roads cutting through thick scrub, and the pass that ran past Loudoun Hill was not only treacherous, she herself had witnessed William stage an ambush there.
“What if the English are lying in wait?” she asked.
“I’ve sent Eddy ahead to scout.” He ran the reins through his fingers. “And I’m praying the bastards behind us dunna ken I trapped Heselrig there.”
“I remember.”
“Ye were a feisty wench.”
“Were?”
“Well, I reckon ye’ve mellowed a bit,” his deep burr rolled across his tongue, hypnotizing her. “I ken I have.”
Heat spread across her face while her fingers smoothed up and down his arm. Had she wanted to do that or had her fingers grown a mind of their own? Worse? She could swear he sighed with a long exhale.
She could ride with him forever on the one side. On the other, she hoped they’d find her a horse soon.
It was late afternoon by the time they rode to the crest of the hill. The best vantage point for miles, Eva turned her face away, pretending she hadn’t looked. Being in the fourteenth century hadn’t been too scary until she saw movement in the distance—an entire retinue moving toward them like a dragon with iron fangs.
She leaned forward in the saddle. “Can’t we just make a run for it?”
“To where?” William asked with an edge of sarcasm in his vice. “Sooner or later we’ll have to make a stand and the hill gives us the best ground advantage in the shire.”
“But you’re in no condition to fight.”
He snorted with a sarcastic smirk. “Och, believe me, when the enemy attempts to run a man through, he can no longer feel pain. The only thing that matters is staying alive. The pain comes later.”
She squinted, looking at the riders in the distance. “How long until they arrive?”
“Afore dark for certain.” He dismounted, then turned and reached for her. “I want ye to hide up here.”
Lord, her legs nearly crumpled when her feet touched ground. Taking a few bow-legged steps, it was all she could do not to rub her inner thighs and make a spectacle in front of the men.
William sniggered behind her. “Ye’re not used to riding, are ye?”
“Not anymore.” She pushed her palm into the small of her back and stretched. “I prefer driving. It would have taken an hour.” With paved roads and a car.
“Wheesht.” William grasped her arm and led her out of earshot of the others. “’Tis well enough ye talk about your time when we’re alone, but I dunna care to hear it around the men—’twill only bring trouble, and not for me.”
She glanced back to John Blair who wielded a whetstone, honing the razor-sharp blade of his great sword. Yes, it was careless of her to be so brash. Father Blair was the type who might just enjoy putting a rope around her neck—ever so Christian of him.
Rubbing the outside of her arms, she nodded her agreement. “You want me to stay up here?”
“Aye.”
“While you set an ambush down below?”
“Well, ye havena exactly mastered the art of swordplay.”
She smoothed her palm over the pommel of the little sword in her belt, doubting she’d ever be a master at wielding a weapon with a blade. But more than anything, she worried about William. She’d seen his weakness back at the cave. “And you’re about as fit to fight as I am. Why can’t you stay up here with me?”
“And let my men fight my battles?” He grasped her shoulders with his two enormous hands and focused on her eyes. Lord, she’d agree to anything when he looked at her with that kind of intensity. “Dunna ask me again.”
“Then promise me ye’ll be careful.”
“I’ll gladly do that.” A hand move to her nape, a finger tickling the side of her neck. “Ye ken why?” he asked with a devilish grin.
“No.” Her tongue grew dry.
His gaze dipped to her mouth. “’Cause ye still love me, lass.” With one step in, his chest lightly brushed the tips of her breasts as he lowered his lips to hers. She caught a drift of his scent, part leather, part iron, part musk and entirely intoxicating male. With a rush of heat between her legs, Eva could no sooner resist him than to say no to warm double-chocolate-fudge-melting lava cake. The deep rumble of his sigh made tingles spread through the tips of her fingers as he deepened the pressure with soft, demanding lips.
Closing her eyes, Eva moved her hands around his waist and sank her fingertips into thick bands of muscle. She leaned into him, giving in to her pent up desire to experience the ecstasy of his length pressed solidly against her, fully aware they could take it no further. One delicious, naughty kiss she could allow herself while the men gathered just beyond the tree.
But no more.
Yes, she did love him. She always had and always would. Forever she would treasure this man in her heart and keep him locked away deep inside. That’s where her feelings belonged—sealed inside an impenetrable barrier in her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Left alone at the top of Loudoun Hill, Eva wasn’t about to sit idle. Rain drizzled while she hurried to collect boulders and line them at the cliff’s edge. Lord, her stomach squelched. It didn’t look so high from below, but now she tottered at the precipice. One wrong slip and she’d plummet to her death.
The drive to help steeled her nerves. There was nothing worse than feeling helpless while the enemy advanced. Who would be injured this time? She cringed. Who would die?
She stopped for a moment and rubbed the medallion beneath her kirtle. “Why haven’t you sent me back?” Damn, what else could she try to invoke the powers that be? Why was her presence needed? William had obviously recovered enough. Her stash of penicillin was half gone.
Every time he touched her, he chipped away a bit more of her resolve. Seeing him, touching him, inhaling his provocative scent—every sensory detail drove her to the ragged edge.
The dull thunder of horse hoofs carried on the wind.
Eva’s heartbeat spiked as she peered up to see the English heading straight toward William and his men, crouched in the ravine below, weapons at the ready. Across the glen, Robbie and a handful of archers sat their horses, bows loaded, waiting to fire.
Everything grew quiet.
A chilly breeze flicked her hair. Eva crouched down so not to be seen.
Her heart beat faster.
The enemy rode past William and his men, none the wiser.
Nearly to the hill, she placed her palms atop a boulder.
Her breath rushed in her ears as she waited.
William would sound the attack with a blast of his ram’s horn.
Wouldn’t he?
But the enemy soldiers were so close—she could do some damage for sure.
She leaned out further to glimpse the invading troops, all wearing orange surcoats atop their hauberks.
The rock in her hands slid forward on the slick mud and slipped from her grasp.
The first hit ricocheted off
the cliff like a blast from a cannon. By the second boom, men bellowed and arrows hissed through the air.
When the rock crashed into the helm of an enemy soldier, William and his men were already upon them, swords clanging, embroiled in a bloody fight.
Five English were down, clutching arrows.
Robbie and his men thundered ahead, blocking the pass.
Eva clutched another rock, searching for her chance to let it fall.
An English soldier broke away.
Closing her eyes, she hurled the rock.
It thudded behind the man’s retreating horse.
Thank God. What am I doing? But Eva knew the answer. She couldn’t see William or any of his men hurt.
She picked up another boulder and cursed. “Damn them to hell.”
She stood at the ready, waiting for an opening, and vowed not to hit a patriot.
“Too right. Wallace has resorted to using women to fight his battles?” The sound of a hostile male voice slithered up her spine like a snake.
Trapped at the edge of the cliff she turned and faced the mounted man—the same blackguard she thought had fled.
She let the boulder drop. Now would be a good time to time travel home.
The cur dismounted.
Fuck.
Sidestepping, Eva purchased enough room to keep from falling to her death.
He reached for his sword.
She drew hers, hands shaking like palsied limbs.
As he sauntered forward, she assessed his armor. A sleeveless coat of mail, helm, neck bare—loins covered only by a linen surcoat and woolen chausses. “Ye think ye can take on the likes of me with that wee blade?”
She gaped at his pock-ridden face.
Basketball.
She faked right.
He lunged.
She spun left.
The little sword hissed.
Snapping her head around, Eva eyed his neck sinews.
With a clang reverberating from her wrist clear up her neck, the tyrant deflected the blow.
Heart flying to her throat, Eva backed, teetering on the edge of the precipice. Out of the corner of her eye, the deadly crags glistened with moisture as if daring her to misstep. Her sword slipped in her sweating palm.
“I’ll carve out your liver and eat it raw,” he growled, lunging with a thrust.
Shrieking, she dove aside. The blade caught her sleeve, slicing it open.
Her hip hit hard.
“Get me out of here!” she screamed.
The man lunged. “I’ll send ye to Hades!”
Angling her sword up, Eva cringed.
This is the end.
Midair, the bastard’s face changed from one of aggression to stunned. His jaw dropped. His eyes bulged. The weapon dropped from his grasp.
He tumbled from the cliff, howling until his body thudded on the sharp rocks below.
Gasping, Eva looked up.
“I thought I told ye to hide.” William shoved his sword into his scabbard and offered his hand.
“I—I wanted to help.”
“Bloody near gave us away.” When he tugged her up, he jerked forward with a grunt.
Eva’s gaze snapped to his flank. “You’re injured.”
He pulled his hand away from his side. Red blood glistened on his fingers. “Just a flesh wound.”
“Oh Lord, please don’t tell me I’m the cause of that.”
“Nay,” he muttered. “Come, we must haste.”
Eva stole a glance down the hill. “Did we win?”
“For the now.” He bent down to give her a leg up. “But it willna be long afore another mob is hunting us down.”
She ignored his hands, putting her foot in the stirrup and hoisting herself up. “I need to dress your wound. Take me someplace safe.”
Mounting with a strained groan, he picked up the reins. “I’ll come good in a day or two.”
“I’ve heard that before and I’m not buying it.” She glanced back. “I mean it—someplace safe.”
They headed west toward the setting sun.
Eva expected to hear horses following, but when she turned they were alone. “Where are the others?”
“Split up—’tis the only way to ensure we’re not followed.”
***
William hated it when he was wrong, but he kent he shouldn’t have been fighting, even before Eva had told him not to. Good God, his limbs hung like sacks of fatty mutton. His stomach growled. Hell, he even shivered against the cold. So they’d stopped another mob of bloodthirsty soldiers? They’d only be replaced by more.
He should drop Eva at the nearest village and tell her to go. She had no business staying with him. No wonder she’d been keeping her distance. It seemed like the whole world was hunting him and every time he took up the sword, more followed. “Blair said Longshanks has offered a thousand Ayrshire acres and a purse of gold to anyone who turns me in, dead or alive.”
“Lord,” Eva whispered. “Why not sail for the Orkneys? They’re still under Norse rule. I doubt Longshanks would find you there.”
“Och aye, that sounds like a coward’s dream. I’ve never run from my enemies and I’m not abou- to start.” His words began to slur.
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Eva straightened her back against his urge to slump. “We could rebuild your army up there. Like Andrew did in Ross Shire before you conquered Stirling.”
The path ahead suddenly spinning, William blinked to clear his vision. He wanted to hold on to that thought—give it some real consideration. Mayhap a year away and he could recruit enough men from Ross to join him? He shook his foggy head. I’m going daft.
Eva tapped his ribs with her elbow. “Lady Christina could help spread the word—send Highlanders to join us.” Then she turned and gave him an endearing grin. “It would give you time to heal.”
“Too right, give all my men a reprieve…If only…” He swayed in the saddle. “Be li…ol’ times.”
“William?”
He hunched forward trying not to lean on her.
“Are you all right?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dammit, why did things always have to go from bad to worse? The rain drove sideways, spitting in her face while Eva clutched William’s arms around her waist with one hand and took charge of the reins with the other. Even wearing a fur-lined mantle, she was miserably cold, soaked through and totally lost.
Get a freaking grip.
She knew this area—had not only been a part of an archaeological dig at Loudoun Hill, she had ridden through Ayrshire with William, albeit eight years ago. The burn that ran past the hill flowed into the River Irvine, which meant Kilmarnock was due west.
Though the villagers had welcomed William with open arms last time, she had no idea who would welcome them and who would turn them in. She couldn’t risk taking him to a town—or even a farm.
Lord help.
Bowing her head against the deluge, she led the horse to the burn and urged him onward. With few roads and overgrown scrub, the going was rough.
Hooves sloshed through the burn and mud, the muck making every step an effort. Branches slapped her face and the westward wind drove the rain into her eyes, making the visibility impossible. On each side of the gully, mud oozed down the embankment making the horse stumble. The water in the burn rushed faster, roaring louder than the icy wind. Without gloves, Eva couldn’t feel her fingers—couldn’t move them either.
When they passed beneath the cover of an enormous sycamore, Eva pulled the warhorse to a stop. At least the tree provided some shelter and the rain only slapped them with sloppy droplets. But the wind cut through to the bone. Neither one of them would survive the night without shelter.
Riding in the gully, they were out of sight, but that made it impossible to see—to find her bearings. She had to take a chance. Ahead, a game trail led from the water with a decent coverage of trees above.
Squinting, grey stones peeked through green vines and moss.
&nbs
p; A wall?
Gently tapping her heels, she urged the horse to move toward the structure. With William’s torso leaning on her with dead weight, Eva didn’t dare dismount—but she couldn’t support him much longer. Nearing, a perpendicular wall came into view—and a partial roof, completely overgrown by foliage. Goodness, it was an abandoned shieling—and the roof hadn’t caved in on the far end.
Perhaps Eva’s luck hadn’t completely run its course.
The horse crept forward, taking a bite of green foliage while tugging his head to the side. Eva gave him tap. “Hey, big fella, you can eat your fill once we’re under cover.”
They picked their way to the entrance of the ruin.
“Hello?” she called peering into the darkness.
Sudden rustling came from within.
Eva clamped her fist around the reins, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.
The horse stutter-stepped as five deer barreled toward them.
Eva shrieked.
The horse reared.
Dropping the reins, she clutched William’s arms tighter around her stomach.
Mistake.
Together they careened backward, landing with a thud.
Eva blinked, rain filling her eyes. William’s chest rose beneath her. His damned horse skittered about six feet to a patch of grass. “I hope it was worth it, you mongrel beast.”
Sliding off the poor unconscious man, Eva looked longingly at the shelter. A few more paces and she would have easily been able to slide William off the horse under cover.
The man was a behemoth. Hefting up his shoulders, Eva tugged. Jeez, William didn’t even budge.
She stood, planted her fists on her hips, and regarded the horse. “Are you happy…you miserable, lazy lump of lard?” A total non-horse person, Eva opted to clear away the debris and rolled William until he was under cover. Dirt and mud smudged across his face and plastered his entire body.
She couldn’t worry about that now. They still could die of exposure. Working urgently, she ran to the horse and used a length of rope to hobble his two front legs—thank God she remembered how. After untying the rolls from the back of the saddle, she raced back under cover.
