Lilia felt pretty certain of where she was because she and Odin had explored the Highlands many times. She’d also ridden through them during brief visits back to the past to see Granny and her sisters. The Highlands she knew the best were the mountains and glens of twenty-first-century Scotland. But amazingly—not that much had changed. The biggest difference she noticed was the absence of asphalt roads.
Moving to a better position to see past the sparse hedging of trees growing along each side of the creek, Lilia studied the area. Thankfully she was still very much alone. No sign of any rogue Buchanans hot on her trail, nor had she come across the ones holding Graham and Angus prisoner. She’d specifically kept to the higher elevations to avoid catching up with the Buchanans. She intended to rescue Graham and Angus but it was futile to go against a dozen or so men by herself.
I’m good but I’m not that damn good. A wistful sigh escaped her. Please let him be okay. She swallowed hard and scrubbed her knuckles against the center of her chest. She ached to have this over and done. Graham’s rescue had to end well. It just had to.
Shaking free of her fears, Lilia made note of the growing harshness of the landscape to her left and the direction of the stream, then she turned to her right and squinted up at the sun again. “Good. That’s west and from the looks of those cliffs, the keep isn’t much farther.”
Both horses lifted their heads and looked at her.
“Sorry, guys. Talking to myself.” For some strange reason, talking out loud made her feel better. Lilia huffed out a bitter laugh. “Gotta keep myself centered somehow.”
Pulling in another deep breath and blowing it out hard and fast, Lilia firmly shut down, once and for all, the sickening what ifs playing through her mind. She refused to acknowledge anything other than a successful rescue. Period.
Moving back to the shelter of the trees, she took some comfort from the fact that the lay of the land was looking more and more familiar. I’m positive I’ve ridden through here before. She was now on MacKenna land and should reach the keep well before nightfall.
A subtle movement in the branches of a nearby tree caught her attention. Lilia moved closer, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight flickering through the shifting foliage.
An owl. A white owl at that, perched high up in the branches and peering down at her with great dark eyes. Around one ankle, barely visible beneath the tufts of pearly white feathers and almost brushing the owl’s powerful talons, was tied a ribbon. A purple ribbon.
Lilia smiled. Purple was her niece Chloe’s favorite color. The owl was her guardian, Oren. She must be closer to the keep than she thought.
“It’s good to see you, Oren.”
The owl spread his wings, silently launched out of the tree, and floated down to a closer branch just above Lilia’s shoulder. He primly settled himself more comfortably, turned his head to gaze southwestward for a long moment, then swiveled his attention back to Lilia and slowly blinked.
“I really wish you could talk,” she said.
The owl looked southwestward again, then turned and stared back at Lilia.
“What are you looking at?” Lilia shifted, aligning herself with the owl’s line of sight and looking in the direction he seemed to find so interesting. The tightness knotting her shoulders eased exponentially.
Two riders, one tall in the saddle with long, dark hair in a flowing ponytail and the other so tiny as to be almost hidden behind the great horse’s head and neck. And what from this distance looked like a half-grown black bear lumbering along in a gamboling run beside the pair of horses. Trulie, Chloe, and Karma.
Lilia vaulted across the shallow stream, waving both arms as she cleared the trees. “Trulie! Chloe! Over here!”
Karma sounded off with a deep baying bark that echoed across the land. He kept up the happy racket as he stretched into the fastest lope his huge body could muster. He plowed into her at full speed, knocking her down with happy yips and well-placed slobbery kisses.
“Oh, Karma, please…stop,” Lilia giggled, twisting and turning to keep from getting her face thoroughly washed. “I’ve missed you too.”
“Auntie Lil! Auntie Lil!” Chloe’s ecstatic squeal made “Auntie Lil” sound like one long Gaelic word meaning “pure delight.” “Get me down, Mama, ’fore Karma gets all the kisses.”
Trulie dismounted, hurried around the horses, and held up her arms. “Jump, kiddo.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Chloe jumped, then wiggled free of her mother’s protective hold and hit the ground running. She flew across the short distance, dodged Karma’s wagging tail, then nudged the big dog out of the way with an impatient bump of her tiny hip. “My turn, Karma. Move.”
The huge beast immediately complied, sidestepping out of her way. He plopped down on his haunches, his long red tongue hanging out one side in an open-mouthed doggy smile.
“I’ve missed you, munchkin!” Lilia grabbed up Chloe, closing her eyes as she hugged the child tight.
Chloe squirmed free, smiling up into Lilia’s face. “I told Mama ye were here but she didna believe me.” Lightly patting a pudgy hand against Lilia’s cheek, Chloe barely nodded, her knowing expression chillingly identical to the look Granny always assumed when one of her plots had come to fruition. “Dinna fash o’er much, Auntie Lil. ’Tis all gonna be just fine. I promise.”
Lilia looked up at Trulie, a mix of emotions raking their claws across her already raw nerves. “Just how accurate is she?”
“She hasn’t been wrong yet.” Trulie gently guided Chloe to one side and helped Lilia up from the ground, pulling her into a hug that nearly cracked her ribs.
Trulie finally released her, stepped back, and held her at arm’s length. Lilia could see the moisture misting in her sister’s eyes. She understood completely. This visit to the past was different. A lot more was at stake.
Clearing her throat with a light cough, Trulie gently squeezed Lilia’s shoulders then slowly let her hands fall away. She looked down at Chloe, then gently cupped her daughter’s chin in her hand. “Granny says she’s never seen the sight so strong in one so young. But she must learn when to speak of what she’s seen and when to keep her mouth shut—for her own safety.”
“Auntie Lil would ne’er hurt me,” Chloe defended with an imperious bob of her dark head. Her wild abandon of springy curls bounced as though affirming her statement. “She’s not one o’ them infernal witch-huntin’ bastards.”
“Chloe!” Trulie’s eyes flared wide in shock.
Lilia bit her lower lip, holding her breath to keep from laughing.
“You do not talk like that. You know better.” Trulie rolled her eyes and blew out a weary groan. With a frustrated shake of her head, she turned back to Lilia. “She spends entirely too much time with her father and Colum.”
“Ye said it too.” Chloe edged closer and hugged one arm around Lilia’s leg, the slyly innocent look on her face a dead giveaway to what she was doing. “So does Granny and Auntie Kenna. Tha’s why I called Rabbie an irritatin’ bastard when he wouldna leave m’dolls be.”
“When we get back to the keep, you and I are going to have a long chat that you’re going to remember this time.” Trulie pointed toward the stream. “Lead the horses over for a drink. Karma will help you. I’m not happy with you and it would be best if you did as you’re told and stayed quiet for a bit before I decide to heat up your tail right here in front of Auntie Lil.”
Chloe’s shoulders slumped and her lower lip quivered. “Aye, Mama.” Without another word, she shuffled back to the horses, scooped up their reins, and headed toward the stream.
Trulie turned back to Lilia but her irritated glare was still fixed on her daughter. “Granny says her curse worked. I have given birth to a child who acts just like I did when I was that age. Beware if you and Graham have children.”
“I have to save him first.” Lilia’s voice broke. She blinked hard and fast against the tears she’d been holding back ever since Graham’s capture. “If I
can’t get him back from the Buchanans, there won’t be any children.”
“What?” Mouth ajar, Trulie stared at her, Chloe’s indiscretions immediately forgotten.
“The Buchanans found us and captured Graham and Angus.”
Trulie held up both hands, fingers widespread as though to catch Lilia’s words and slow them down. “Captured? Wait. Go back and start at the beginning. When we talked to you through the fire portal, you said you were coming back to spread Eliza’s ashes but we wouldn’t get to see you this time because Graham insisted on coming with you. You didn’t want to cause any trouble with the clan and risk being discovered. The three of you were just going to pop in then pop right back out. How did the Buchanans find you? Their lands lie south of here.”
Lilia could still hear the squat disgusting man’s words. They were permanently branded into her mind. “Spies.” She turned and looked for Chloe. The child had found a stick and was stirring it in the creek. “The ringleader said the Buchanan chieftain had placed spies in MacKenna Keep. They must’ve discovered my plans. I don’t remember for sure but I think I told Granny where we’d enter.”
“Son of a bitch,” Trulie whispered, her brow creasing with a scowl. Eyes narrowed, she stared off in space, one finger thoughtfully tapping her chin.
Lilia took hold of Trulie’s arm and squeezed it. “I don’t have time to figure out how they found us. I need Gray’s help. His men. The whole fucking clan would be even better. We’ve got to get Graham and Angus back before they reach Buchanan Keep.” A sudden sense of time slipping away felt like a red-hot iron burning through her chest. She needed them to weapon up and ride out to save Graham now.
Trulie looked at her with an expression that chilled her to the bone. A sense of sadness, even hopelessness, emanated from her like a toxic shadow.
Lilia stepped back, forcing her empathic senses back on lockdown—a rare thing for her to have to do when around her family. She couldn’t handle anything else right now. She was already in emotional overload. “What?”
“I don’t know that Gray will do that.” Trulie barely shook her head. “The clan heard his pledge in the hall—that if Graham returned from exile, he’d be turned over to the Buchanans. You know what a chieftain’s word means to his clan. Gray has no choice.”
“I don’t give a damn what the clan thinks. You know what they’re going to do to Graham.” Lilia hitched back a sob. No tears—not now. “They’ll torture him, Trulie. Kill him slowly to make sure he suffers. You know that.”
“I know,” Trulie whispered, turning away.
“What would you do if it was Gray?” Lilia grabbed Trulie by the shoulder and forced her sister to face her. “Tell me, Trulie. What would you do?”
Trulie set her jaw, lifted her head, and locked an unblinking gaze on Lilia. “I’d move heaven and earth to get him back. I’d do whatever it took.”
“Then help me.” Lilia squeezed Trulie’s arm tighter. “Please…help me.”
Trulie’s scowl softened. Her attention shifted to a point past Lilia’s shoulder. A faint smile curled up one corner of her mouth. “If I can’t convince Gray to help, Granny can figure out an angle he won’t be able to refuse.” Then she looked back at Lilia. “And if Granny fails, there’s always my secret weapon.”
“Secret weapon?”
Trulie pointed at her daughter. “Chloe.”
Chapter 24
“I canna believe ye would ask such a thing. I’m bound by m’word. Ye ken that well enough, aye?” Gray wouldn’t face Lilia. He stood beside the hearth, jaw locked and nostrils flared, staring down at the floor.
The air in the usually comfortable chieftain’s solar was stifling hot and it had nothing to do with the warmth of the late August day. Gray pounded his fist against the front of the wooden beam running the width of the fireplace. With an agitated rake of one hand through his black shoulder-length hair, he finally turned and glared dead straight at Lilia. Teeth bared in a frustrated scowl, he jabbed a finger first at Trulie then swung his arm to aim it at Granny. “I spoke Graham’s sentence in front of m’kin. The scribe took it down in the hall ledger and affixed m’seal to it. There is no goin’ back. I canna break an oath.”
“There’s always a loophole.” Granny took Lilia’s hand and squeezed it tight. “And besides—Graham’s family now. I can’t believe you’re going to stand there and tell us that you’re going to allow your kin to be tortured and murdered.” Granny’s eyes narrowed and she stepped toward Gray, pulling Lilia with her.
Oh Lord. Poor Gray. Granny’s going in for the kill. Well…so be it. They needed less talk and more action. Time was slipping away. Lilia squeezed Granny’s hand. Get him, Granny.
“Mother Sinclair makes a valid argument,” Colum said from the far corner of the room. He was slowly wrapping the handle of a wooden child-sized sword with a strip of leather. He looped the last of the strand around the haft then pulled it tight with his teeth. He placed the sword on the small table beside him, aligning it with an identical weapon he’d already finished. Dull-bladed swords for his twin sons. “Mayhap now the lads will leave Chloe’s treasures alone.” He rose from the bench and turned to Gray. “Graham is kin now since he’s husband to our good sister here.”
“That doesna change the man’s sentence. I named the terms and they didna hinge on whether he’d married Mistress Lilia or no’. He was not t’return here under any circumstances.” Gray sadly shook his head, his voice growing softer. “I canna help ye, Lady Lilia. I am verra sorry.” He stepped forward and took her hand, ignoring Granny completely. “All I can do is demand that his remains be returned to Clan MacKenna. We’ll lay him to rest here.”
“And that’s supposed to fucking console me?” Lilia yanked her hand away from Gray, ignoring Granny’s sharp intake of breath. Granny hated the f-word but this time Granny was just going to have to get over it. Lilia was well past nice ladylike requesting level. She’d hit frustrated bitch overload and somebody was damn well going to do something. “If you don’t help me, I’ll just go by myself and then you can have them box up my remains along with Graham’s. A twofer. Will that make you feel better about keeping your precious word?”
Gray hitched a step back as though she’d just slapped him. “Lady Lilia—”
“Don’t take that placating tone with me.” Lilia stomped to the far end of the room and yanked a shield off the wall. “I’m taking this. I need a sword, a bow, and some arrows. Is there anything else in your dumbass edict that says you can’t give your sister-in-law any weapons?”
“Lilia, don’t.” Trulie hurried over and pulled at the shield, frowning when Lilia yanked it back. “Let me have it. We’re going to figure something out. We’ll get Graham back.”
“Not according to your husband, we won’t.” Lilia tucked the shield under one arm and jerked her chin toward Colum. “You’re over the weapons. Where are they kept? I’ll just take what I need and then Gray”—she inflected his name with all the rage surging through her—“won’t be breaking his holier-than-thou word.”
“Enough, Lilia.” Granny stormed across the room, jerked the shield out of Lilia’s hands, and grabbed hold of her arm. Pulling her back to the ring of pillowed seats curled around the hearth, she stood Lilia in front of the small leather-covered chair that everyone knew as “Granny’s seat.” “You be quiet now and let me handle this.”
Lilia opened her mouth to argue but shut it again when Granny held up a finger and peered over the top rim of her spectacles with that no-nonsense look all the girls had come to know and fear at an early age. Granny had had enough. Good. So have I. Lilia locked her stance and glared at Gray.
Trulie had joined Gray in front of the fireplace, one arm looped through her husband’s and the other hand resting atop his forearm.
If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Lilia would’ve laughed. Gray was too naïve to realize that Trulie was holding him so he couldn’t get away from Granny.
Colum’s reddish-gold brows shot to h
is hairline. In one swoop, he scooped up the pair of play swords and strode to the door. Kenna had told her how Colum had tangled with Granny before—and lost. Wise man. He knew what was about to happen to Gray.
Pulling open the door, he paused and waved the swords at Lilia. “I’ll be takin’ these to m’lads and givin’ Kenna a break from the wee beasties. With another bairn on the way, she tires easy. Whene’er the lot of ye decide what’s t’be done, come and find me.”
“Thank you, Colum,” Lilia said. Twin two-year-olds and pregnant again. No wonder Kenna had dark circles under her eyes. A heartsick pang ached through Lilia’s core. She had to save Graham. She needed the happiness her sisters had found and she needed it with a vengeance.
Granny paced slowly up and down the length of the woven rug stretched in front of the hearth. Head bowed. A thoughtful scowl in place. She walked with hands clasped against the small of her back. She reminded Lilia of all those movies she’d seen where trial lawyers went in for the kill during their summation.
“You swore that if Graham ever returned, you’d turn him over to the Buchanans. No matter what. Right?” Granny ceased her pacing. She turned and glared at Gray.
Gray shifted to one side, casting a quick frowning look at Trulie when she yanked on his arm and kept him in place. He turned back to Granny and stubbornly lifted his chin. “Ye ken verra well that I did. Ye were there.”
Granny’s narrow-eyed gaze shifted back to the floor and she resumed her pacing. She reached the far end of the carpet, slowly turned, then stopped again. A victorious smile blossomed, brightening her expression like the rising of the sun. “But your edict said nothing of Angus. A true MacKenna—by blood. No ultimatum was made should he decide to return. True?”
A percolating silence filled the room as though everyone held their breath. Lilia’s heart hammered, its excited pounding echoing in her ears. She watched Gray closely, praying he’d take Granny’s tempting cue and run with it.
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