Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection

by Donna Fletcher

  ~~~

  Cavan wrapped his chilled hands around a tankard of hot cider, his brothers joining him at the table in the far corner of the great hall, out of the way of the chaos. He searched the frantic scene for a glimpse of his wife and not seeing her thought she was probably still with the children in the kitchen. As soon as he finished here with his brothers he would find her. He had an uneasy feeling, especially since when outside with his brothers he had thought for sure he had heard her call out to him. And not a simple shout but a fearful one, and it had troubled him. It was one of the reasons why he had suggested they return to the hall, to look for his wife and that the weather had turned bitter cold, puffs of smoke accenting every word.

  “Hagen’s a good man,” Lachlan said reiterating what they all thought.

  “Yet you object to the marriage?” Cavan asked.

  “I don’t think it is that we object,” Artair said. “I believe it is simply difficult for us to accept that mother loves another man, that Christmas was special to father, and she weds another on that day.”

  “Father always did enjoy the day,” Ronan said with a smile. “Remember how he would sing the loudest when the villagers gathered around the bonfire?”

  “And how he would warn us with a twinkle in his eyes that if we dared let the Yule log go cold on Christmas Eve the elves would come down the chimney and create havoc,” Lachlan said with a laugh.

  The four brothers turned silent, the loving memories having them missing their father.

  Cavan finally spoke up. “I think father would be pleased that mum was getting married on such a special day. She has been alone long enough.”

  “She has us and the grandchildren,” Ronan said.

  “She needs more or so my wife tells me,” Artair said.

  Cavan nodded. “Honora tells me the same.”

  “I stopped Alyce before she told me too much of what I didn’t want to hear,” Lachlan said.

  “Carissa made me listen to what she had to say about mum and Hagen,” Ronan confessed.

  “I think we all agree that mum is happy and we want her to stay that way,” Cavan said. “And that Hagen is a good man and treats her well.”

  “He better,” Ronan said with a raised fist and Artair and Lachlan nodded.

  At that moment Hagen entered the hall, a big man with not a hair on his head but a joyous smile on his face. He hurried over to Addie, wrapped her in a huge hug and gave her a sound kiss. Their mother blushed, laughed and kissed him back.

  “Mum certainly is happy,” Ronan said.

  “And she’d like us to be happy for her,” Cavan said. “I think we should give her that.”

  With some reluctance, the three nodded.

  A servant rushed in from the kitchen and spoke rapidly to Addie. She along with Hagen hurried over to her sons. At her anxious approach they all stood.

  “A bit of a mishap with Roark and Ryan,” Addie said, “though I’m assured it’s nothing serious.”

  Lachlan and Ronan got to their feet just as their wives carried the two boys into the great hall, tears still wet on their flushed cheeks.

  The fathers’ hurried to their sons and Artair and Cavan followed along with Hagen and Addie.

  “A fall and a bump nothing more,” Alyce assured Lachlan as he reached for his son.

  “The same here,” Carissa said.

  Ryan’s little arms reached anxiously out to his father and wrapped tightly around his neck once Ronan took hold of him.

  “Where’s Zia?” Artair asked. “I assume she saw to the lads.”

  “And Honora, where is she?” Cavan asked.

  Before anyone could answer Neddie came running into the hall screaming, “He took her. He took her. The giant took Honora.”

  Cavan ran over to Neddie who had collapsed to her knees, the root plants spilling from the basket clenched tightly in her hand. He bent down beside her. “What do you mean? Who took my wife?”

  Addie stooped down, wrapped her arm around Neddie, who trembled uncontrollably, and helped her to stand. She guided her over to the table before the hearth and placed a tankard of hot cider in her hands.

  “Zia needs the roots. You must get her the roots,” Neddie pleaded.

  “Do not worry, we will see that Zia gets the roots,” Addie said softly and motioned to a servant to take care of it. “Now warm yourself with the cider and tell us what happened.”

  Cavan was relieved his mother had handled Neddie so well. He would have simply shaken her senseless trying to get answers. As it was, his heart was pounding so hard that he thought it would burst from his chest and his stomach twisted with fear.

  “We were finished collecting the root plants that Zia needed right away. We turned to leave the woods—” Neddie turned silent.

  What was his wife doing in the woods and why hadn’t she told him she was going there? He would have never let her and Neddie go alone. But then she was familiar with the woods, her mother having taken her there often when she was young. Still, she should not have gone alone. If she was in front of him now he’d throttle her. No, he wouldn’t. He would hug her tight and not let her go.

  Neddie finally continued. “He just stood there, he did. He was broad as he was tall, a giant he was. Wore mostly furs. His hair the color of the sun on the brightest day and a face—” She blessed herself. “Sinful features that caught the breath.” She shook her head. “He scooped Honora up, tossed her over his shoulder and was gone in a flash.”

  Cavan glared at her knowing there was more than she was telling.

  Neddie shuddered and reluctantly met his dark brown eyes. “Bless her soul; she called out for you, as if you would hear her.”

  And he had, good lord, he had heard her. When would he realize how thoroughly they had been joined? Honora often knew what he thought, finishing his words before he could, and it was the same for him. It was as if they were one, never to be separated, for neither could survive without the other.

  “We should gather the men,” Lachlan said handing his son to his wife.

  Ronan kissed his son’s cheek then returned him to his mother. “I’ll see to the weapons.”

  “I’ll see if Neddie can detail the location of where she and Honora gathered the root plants,” Artair said.

  “I’ll never forget the spot,” Neddie said.

  “You best not wait too long,” Alyce advised. “With the air turning bitter more snow is sure to fall and any tracks will be lost to you.”

  Cavan felt a hand on his arm and he saw that his mother stood beside him. “Go and bring your wife home in time for Christmas.”

  One day to find his wife, tomorrow being Christmas and his mother’s wedding day, an occasion his wife had been so looking forward to.

  “Two of you will stay and see to the protection of the keep, one will come with me,” Cavan ordered looking to each of his brothers. “It’s up to the three of you to decide, but hurry, for we leave in five minutes.”

  Cavan walked out of the keep and stood on the steps looking in the direction of the woods. “I will be there soon, Honora and when I do, I’m going to kill the man who dared to take you from me.”

  ~~~

  Honora had thought the warrior would tire after carrying her only a short distance, but he hadn’t. He kept going, taking her further away from home. Her stomach turned from the thought or the jostling she wasn’t sure, though she was sure of one thing... she was afraid.

  Fear could help or hinder her predicament, and she had to be wise in how she dealt with—the large warrior.

  His size certainly would be a deterrent in her ability to escape. Her husband was strong and when playful would hold her down and tease her with kisses, but he would always release her so that they could make love without restraints.

  The size of this man warned that it would be impossible to free herself from any hold he placed on her, and the thought turned her stomach again. She wanted no man but Cavan touching her, and the possibility that another would brought
tears to her eyes.

  She chastised herself for thinking the worst when she should be spending time trying to plan an escape. She had escaped captivity from the Barbarians once; she could escape one lone man, though she had learned later that she had had help from Carissa. But even though she had been fearful she had taken the chance. And she was skilled with a dagger thanks to Cavan.

  There were options for her to consider, besides Cavan would follow soon enough. She had to stay strong and keep herself safe until her husband came for her.

  Her first thought was to get him to put her down. On her feet, she could at least attempt an escape.

  “Please,” she pleaded, “please put me down.”

  “No, you’ll try to run, and I need you.”

  While his response worried her, it also angered her. He took her captive to satisfy his lust? Or could he possibly have another need in mind? But what? What could he possibly need from her?

  They continued to travel until he stopped suddenly and placed her on the ground, though kept a firm hold on her arm.

  “Run and I will catch you and then I will bind your hands and tether you to me, understand?” he asked, though it resonated more like a demand.

  Honora nodded.

  She stared at him as he looked about, as if determining his location. He looked a descendent of the Norsemen, though had a bit of a Scottish brogue to him. He could be from the settlements far north where some of the Vikings remained once they stopped pillaging and made peace and eventually became more Scotsman than Norsemen.

  Few if any of the Norse ventured far from the lands they had claimed, and she wondered what he was doing here and why he had abducted her.

  His confused expression made her ask, “You are unfamiliar with the landscape?”

  “I know it well enough,” he snapped and pushed her to sit on a stump. “Stay put.”

  She studied him again as he continued to determine his surroundings. He was a remarkably handsome man, his strong features captivating the eyes and senses, not to mention is blue eyes, the color and brilliance of the deepest blue sapphires. Even the slight crook of his slim nose didn’t detract from his superior features. A warrior with such good looks, strength and determination certainly would not have trouble finding a willing woman.

  That thought had Honora getting right to the point. “Why do you need me?”

  Sudden sounds of scurrying animals startled him and before Honora knew what was happening he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder once again and started running.

  The realization that he had not forced himself upon her when they had stopped had her wondering if he indeed had captured her for a different reason then she had first thought. And perhaps it was one not quite so terrifying, though...

  The thought sent a frightening chill through her. What if he intended to sell her? It did happen. Raiders came on shore scooping up men, women and children and sailing off with them to sell in faraway lands, never to be seen again.

  The thought of never seeing Cavan again, never having his arms around her, never kissing him, never making love with him tore at her heart. She would not want to live without him. They were one and they could never survive separated. And then there were her children. The thought of never seeing them grow into fine men and women nearly shattered her heart.

  No matter what it took, she would stay strong and do all she could to get away and return home. And she would start now.

  Honora began pummeling his muscled back and kicking frantically. He yelled for her to stop, but she wouldn’t. The more she struggled to free herself, the more difficult it was for him to keep hold of her, and as soon as he released her, she’d run. She continued her assault, though her hands throbbed from hitting hard muscle.

  He must have had enough, for he dumped her on the ground. She scrambled to her feet, all set to run. She wasn’t fast enough, his hand reached out and grabbed her arm, but she refused to surrender. She tightened her hand into a fist and as he took hold of one arm she swung with the other.

  His arm instinctively flew up, his elbow catching her arm with such force that it sent her fist flying into her jaw.

  She knocked herself out, collapsing in his arms.

  ~~~

  “I’m going to kill him,” Cavan said.

  Ronan nodded. “I’ll help you.”

  “Good, for I want him to suffer, worse than we did at the hands of the Barbarians, before he dies.” Cavan rarely recalled his year of captivity any longer, Honora had made that possible. She occupied his mind so much that there was barely room for anything else.

  He thought about last night and how excited and frantic their lovemaking. Most time they didn’t rush. They lingered in the beauty of making love. But last night there had been urgency to their coupling. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had seemed almost as if—

  He shook his head, refusing to give the maddening thought credence. It was crazy to think that somehow they had sensed this separation and had striven to connect as deeply as possible for fear—

  With a sharp shake of his head he refused to believe that they would never see each other again. He would never allow that. He would search until the end of time to find Honora. He loved her beyond all reason. Even he had yet to fully grasp the extent of his love for her and her for him.

  “Honora is a wise woman,” Ronan said. “She will do what she must to survive.”

  “That’s what I fear,” Cavan said.

  The snow started falling just as they reached the designated spot. Cavan ordered his men to remain mounted while he and Ronan dismounted and with careful steps examined the ground a few feet away.

  “I’ve got a track,” Ronan said, gently brushing the light snow away.

  Cavan hunched down next to him to take a closer look. He didn’t like what he saw.

  Ronan voiced what Cavan wouldn’t. “He’s a big man.”

  Cavan stood with a jolt. Honora would never be able to fight a man of that size.

  Ronan rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Do not underestimate your wife. She will do well until we get to her.”

  Cavan wanted to believe that, prayed that it was so, but another part of him feared for what his wife might suffer. And nothing—not the warrior’s size, not his skills—would stop Cavan from making him suffer.

  “We’ll need to take it slow so that we can follow the tracks,” Ronan warned. “But with him on foot and carrying Honora, he can’t have gotten far.”

  Cavan ordered his men to remain mounted and follow behind him and Ronan. He didn’t need to tell them to remain alert. They were well trained warriors and knew without being told that though they followed only one set of tracks, it didn’t mean there couldn’t be more men lying in wait somewhere.

  They crept along while Cavan wished they could plunge forward, and the only thing that kept him sane was the thought that each crawling step brought him closer to his wife.

  ~~~

  Honora felt the strength of strong arms around her and a gentle hand patting her cheek and urging her awake. It had been a nightmare. The whole horrible ordeal had been nothing more than a bad dream, and she was now safe in her husband’s loving arms.

  She turned and snuggled her face against his chest as she so often did. But when his arms didn’t wrap tightly around her and when she realized it was fur her face snuggled against—her eyes popped open wide.

  Her nightmare was real. She lay in the arms of her captor, his face so close to hers that she could see a small scar that curved at the corner of his right eye.

  “You knocked yourself out,” he said.

  Annoyed at failing to escape and embarrassed at her own stupidity and waking much too intimately in his arms got her anger sparking. “I want answers and I want them now!”

  “No time,” he said and stood, hoisting her up with him.

  Honora winced when a sudden pain radiated through her jaw. Her free hand went to her face and she winced again when she connected with her swollen j
aw.

  “It’s already darkening. You throw a hard punch,” he said in what sounded like admiration.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “No time for questions,” he said.

  “It’s answers I’m looking for.”

  “Not now,” he said and went to scoop her up.

  “No,” she yelled. “I’ll walk.”

  He yanked her arm up that he held tight at the wrist and gave it a shake. “I’ll not be letting go of you.”

  Honora didn’t like the finality of his words. It was as if he intended to keep her forever and the thought sent her stomach rolling.

  “My husband will come for me,” she said as he started them off on a brisk pace.

  “I have no doubt he will, and he can have you back when I’m done with you.”

  Hope sprung in her chest sending her heart beating wildly. He would return her home, after he was done with her. Hope suddenly plummeted. She would return home—but at what cost?

  It didn’t matter she told herself—nothing mattered but getting home.

  There was another thought to consider though. Cavan would not allow this matter to go unpunished, and well he shouldn’t. This was Sinclare land and the Sinclares protected all on it, especially the chieftain’s wife. She had to have information to give to her husband. Besides she was curious as to her abductor’s identity.

  “Tell me your name,” she insisted.

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is to me.”

  “Why? So your husband can hunt me down after all this is done?”

  “You know my husband well, for that is exactly what he will do,” she said, hoping the threat might make him change his plans.

  He stopped abruptly, giving her a yank as he did.

  She collided with his hard chest and her head snapped back. And once again pain rippled through her jaw.

  “Tyr.”

  Her mouth dropped open in complete shock.

  “I see you have heard of me. Now do you really want your husband to do battle with me?”

  Honora shook her head.

  “Then give me what I want and I will let you go. There will be no need for your husband to die.”

  He gave her a slight shove to start walking and once again they were traveling at a good pace.