by Alisa Adams
That evening as they sat around their fire they laughed as they recalled their encounter with the twins.
“I think he will find that shorter hair is much easier to care for,” Cat said as she ran her slender fingers through her short locks.
“I was afraid ye were going to drop the sword right into their laps there at the end Lady Catriona,” Neely said.
Cat grinned. “Aye, scared meself as well. Yer stick was a fine weapon today Lady Neely! You were walloping that mon with yer stick with such fierceness, the Ross sisters would have been proud!”
Neely grimaced. “He was hitting poor Mentieth. And it is a golf club, not a stick,” she insisted with a scowl. Then she looked over at Swan. “Horsemaster Beak was correct, the horses knew what to do. And to think I was angry when ye first assigned me to Teeth when we fled Brough Castle, Lady Swan.” She laughed softly. “I didnae want to have to ride him. I thought he was mean and ornery and would be nipping and biting me endlessly, like he did in those first days. He was always pulling me hair out of me braid and ripping me sleeves. But he was the real hero today.” She sighed with pride in the old war horse as she looked towards him where he was happily grazing on grass.
Neely’s eyes fell on the small donkey beside Teeth. She had incredibly long ears that stood straight up from her head. “What will ye be doing with the donkey, Cat?”
Cat looked over at the donkey, who was contentedly munching the grass beside the horses. It was an oddly mismatched sight to see, and it made her smile.
“Donkeys make wonderful guard animals. Rabbit will bray if anyone comes near,” Cat stated.
Neely looked at her in confusion. “Rabbit will bray? What are ye talking aboot?”
Cat grinned. “I am naming me donkey Rabbit. Look at those beautiful ears. She is just lovely. Those tolla-thons did not deserve to have her. She looks near starved.”
Neely choked on a gasp. “Ye should not use that word, Lady Catriona!”
“Och, I learned it from Ceena Ross. I like that word. And it is just one word, unlike all those old sweary words ye spewed at them!” She grinned. “It is freeing to speak as I wish, and out here, I am free to do and say as I please,” Cat said serenely, as she stretched her arms above her head.
Neely looked over at Swan for support, but Swan was giggling quietly at Cat’s remark. “Leave her be Neely, she has been through much.”
Neely nodded. It probably was no different than all the words she herself had called the men. “Very well,” she said. She turned back to Swan. “Are ye feeling better?”
“Aye, I am. Thank ye. I am sorry for the untimely retching,” Swan said with a light laugh.
“Not at all. I think it was perfect timing. It made them hesitate,” Neely said and laughed out loud.
“And gave us time to come up with a song we all knew,” Kaithria added quietly with a grin.
Swan looked at her. “I think ye should do the singing from now on Kaithria,” she said.
Neely studied her as well, until Kaithria became uncomfortable. “Kaithria?” she asked quietly. “Where did ye come from? Yer accent isnae Scottish at times.”
Kaithria looked at the women around the fire. “’Tis too long a story to tell.”
“Oh, but please,” Cat pleaded.
“I am very tired,” Kaithria said quietly. She laid her head down on her saddle and pulled her tartan over her, then closed her eyes.
The three women looked at each other. Cat shrugged her shoulders and laid down.
Neely looked at Swan. “Ye should sleep as well. Ye need rest. I will stay up and keep watch.” She added with a soft laugh, “Rabbit and I will.”
Neely scooted up against a rock and pulled her tartan over her shoulders. It had stopped raining, thankfully.
She thought of the unusual land that she had been raised in. It was called by many names: Flow Country, blanket bogs, flow lands. The Caithness Highlands was home to vast rolling expanses of peatlands and wetlands. It was also home to many song birds. It was dotted with a myriad of peat and mysterious pools and streams. There were also old Pict and Norse stone structures and beautiful waterfalls that tumbled into fairy pools. Neely loved it, even with all its dangers.
She sighed and fought her heavy eyelids as she stared tiredly into the fire, watching the dancing flames as her friends slept peacefully around the warmth of the fire. Slowly, she worked her fingers through her long, braided hair, freeing it from its confines and letting it drape around her shoulders and fall almost to her hips. She sighed again as she tiredly shook the heavy weight of it. Her eyes were so very heavy as she fought off sleep.
In her dream Neely felt his kiss. She arched her neck up for more, making a purring noise in her throat as she felt his lips again, rubbing back and forth over hers. She could feel his soft whiskers as they touched her skin, smell his breath, hear his light growl as he deepened the kiss. She could feel his heartbeat under the palm of her hand, feel the tip of his tongue as it thrust past her lips, hear a donkey braying—
Neely came suddenly awake, sitting up straight.
Greysteil McKinnon knelt on one knee beside her, a grim smile on his lips as he looked down at her with narrowed, steely blue eyes.
She stared up at him. He looked angry. Again.
But he was so handsome that it made her insides dance.
She frowned back at him, giving him the same scowl he was giving her. Would the happy young man she had known long ago ever return?
“Did ye kiss me?” She finally managed to find her voice to demand an answer from him.
“Aye,” he said softly in the morning twilight so as not to wake the others.
The husky, low timber of his voice made Neely’s heartbeat quiver.
“I didnae say ye could.” Neely tried to speak firmly but her voice shook just a bit. It wasn’t a dream, he had kissed her! She sighed softly. She hoped he didn’t hear it.
“What would ye have said if I had asked?” Steil said quietly.
“Why are ye angry with me?” she asked, afraid to answer his question. “Besides the fact that I left Brough before ye, I suppose.”
“Besides that? Well, there is the interesting fact that I seem to have a wife,” Steil said softly as his eyes narrowed on her further.
He looked at her lips and Neely saw his eyes dilate; his nostrils flared slightly. His fists were clenched tightly where they were resting on his knee.
Neely’s breathing hitched. “Ye are married?” she squeaked.
“Aye,” he said, watching her carefully. He had come upon their camp in the twilight hours of the morning. She looked so beautiful resting there, her hair spread out over her shoulders and breasts in all its glory. Her long black lashes were fanned over her pink cheeks. But it was her full, rosy, red lips that he had not been able to resist. He had never been able to combat the draw of this woman, nor her kisses. I could kiss her forever, he thought with another angry scowl.
She arched a brow at him. “Who is she?” she demanded.
“A vera troublesome lass to be sure.”
“If ye think that, then why did ye marry her?” she said curtly.
He sighed deeply. “I cannae resist her.” He touched her lips. Then his jaw tightened as he frowned again. He stood abruptly. “I was teasing ye Neilina Eunson.” He glanced away from her and then back again. “I ran into two men, twins they were. One had a bloody forehead that he said he got from me wife. That she used an ancient targe on his head. The other mon had a terrible bite on his shoulder and his tartan was torn. He said me wife was riding a giant, black horse like me Ben Nevis and it was me wife’s horse who bit him.” He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. Then he looked over at Mentieth and back to Neely. “He also had multiple lumps on his head from the stick me wife was beating him with.” He arched his eyebrow in question, and waited.
Neely slowly stood up. “’Tis not a stick. ’Tis a golf club,” she huffed out. She squirmed under his sharp gaze for only a moment before she added, with
her chin high, “Aye, we did meet the twins on the road.”
“And?” Steil asked slowly and calmly, drawing the word out through his teeth. Inside he was seething. They had been alone. Unprotected. Defenseless.
“We handled it,” Neely said, keeping her chin high. She could feel her cheeks reddening.
“Oh aye, we did! We were splendid!” came Cat’s voice.
Steil turned towards Cat but then stopped as another man came walking towards camp leading a very tired horse. Steil grinned at him. “It’s about time ye arrived, Lord Keir. I beat ye here well and guid.”
“Aye, ye did Greysteil. Ye and that great, hulking, black mountain of a horse of yers.”
Lord Keir Maxwell walked into the clearing of the camp straight towards Cat. He held his hand out to stop Steil, who had stepped forward. “Let me, Steil,” he said. He kept his eye on the little blonde as he walked with big strides towards her.
“As ye wish, me friend,” Steil answered with a small smile. He held his arms across his chest and watched.
“Catriona, what do ye think ye are doing?” Keir ground out as he walked over to her angrily. He stopped and looked down at her with fury in his face.
Cat stopped abruptly, her face going impossibly paler. “Uncle Keir?” she said with a tremor in her voice. “Why are ye here?”
Cat looked at the two huge warriors who stared down at her with their muscular arms. They were in their Black Watch Army kilts. Their strong legs in a wide stance, with muscular calves encased in finely made, sturdy, tall leather boots. They wore heavy, dark jackets that fit their broad shoulders. Cat’s Uncle Keir had dark hair with a tam slanted roguishly just above one eye. His eyes were dark and fringed with the blackest of lashes. He had an intriguing dimple on his chin. The ladies always swooned over his masculine darkness and that dimple. But Cat did not understand it.
Lord Greysteil was staring at her. Neely was beside him, staring at him.
“I am here because of you!” Keir growled at her. He strode up to her and scooped her into his arms.
“What are ye doing, Uncle Keir?” Cat squealed.
“Ye cannae be here, ye are far too weak,” Keir ground out. “Wolf would never have let ye do such a foolish thing.”
Cat’s face turned to stone. “Ye will put me down this instant,” she demanded in a firm voice.
Keir frowned at her in fury. “I am taking ye home.”
“Nay,” Cat said, “ye most certainly are not.”
“Ye cannae risk yer...” Keir started to say with a grim frown as he held her in his arms.
“I have never felt better!” Cat said quickly as she nodded towards his horse. “But yer horse is exhausted and cannae turn around and make it back to McKay Castle. We are almost to Brough and that is where I am going.” She was serene in the knowledge that he would inevitably do as she told him to.
Kaithria stepped forward. “Put her down, Lord Keir,” she said softly.
Swan and Neely stepped forward as well. “Aye, put her down,” they said as one.
Keir looked at the women that stood resolutely around him. There was something different about Kaithria, Swan, and Neely. They looked stronger, bolder, more confident. Then he looked down at his niece. She didn’t look as fragile as she used to. Gone were the dark shadows under her eyes. Her skin was flushed with health. And happiness.
Keir slowly and gently lowered Cat to the ground.
Cat briskly smoothed down her skirts as Swan stepped forward, trying to break the tension.
“I’ll be taking ye home after ye have had a few days to rest at Brough,” Keir said, brooking no argument. “And ye as well, Lady Swan! Wolf would tear the Highlands apart to get ye back.”
“Aye,” Steil said, taking a step towards them.
“Good morn Steil,” Swan said with a smile at her brother.
Steil nodded tensely at her, but glanced away quickly towards Keir.
“Did ye run into the twins?” Steil asked Keir. “It seems they dinnae want anyone going to Brough. I think it best the women dinnae go there.”
Steil ignored the angry gasps from the women.
“What? Nay, I met no one,” Keir answered with some interest. “The roads were strangely empty. The ravages of the Clearances are apparent here.”
“The women met them,” Steil said, looking at Keir with a raised eyebrow and a frown.
Keir spun back to Cat, then glanced at Kaithria. “Were any of ye harmed?”
“Nay, and we are going to Brough!” answered Cat. “The twins were nothing. Neely was splendid, as was Kaithria and Swan. They sang beautifully. We all fought them off!”
Steil’s lips thinned; just the corners of his lips tipped up into a grim smile. “They sang? Ye fought them off? With what weapons?”
The girls did not answer; instead, they burst out laughing.
Steil and Keir put their hands on their hips as they watched them.
“Let me hazard a guess, Steil.” Keir rubbed a large hand over the stubble of his jaw. “A couple of peat cutters and a stick.”
“’Tis a golf club!” Neely said loudly. “A club! Not a stick!” She huffed out a breath in exasperation. “And I had a targe and Cat had a claymore.” She nodded her head once, firmly. “And we are going back to Brough!”
“What did the twins say to ye?” Steil demanded.
“Och, they wanted our horses and—well, never mind what else, but they wanted our horses and we wouldnae let them have them. And Teeth was magnificent!”
Steil narrowed his eyes at Neely. “I can imagine what else they wanted. Nasty pair they were. They tried for me Ben Nevis as well. Would have shot me dead but it seems they had forgotten their pistols were gone.” He looked at Neely and the other girls.
Neely lightly touched his arm. “Ye were only one against those brutes. Did they hurt ye?”
He looked down at her hand on his arm. Then at the concern in her face.
“They tried.” He let out a short laugh. “But they were no match fer me. Dinnae be concerned for me, Neilina Eunson. If I die, I die. I care naught,” he said coldly. With those words he went over to brush down his horse, Ben Nevis.
Swan was staring at him with tears glistening in her eyes. She took a step forward and stopped, unsure if she should go to him, and if she did would he rebuff her? She did not know how to talk to her brother since he had returned. Not that they ever really had talked. She twisted her hands together worriedly.
Neely put her hand on Swan’s shoulder. “Let me,” she whispered.
Neely walked slowly over to the giant black stallion. She held the back of her hand towards him for him to sniff, then she stroked his neck slowly as she moved around his side to stand before Steil.
“What was that?” she said softly to him.
When he just looked at her with a grim raised eyebrow, she tried again.
“Ye dinnae care if ye die?” She stared up into those beautiful eyes that had haunted her dreams for years. “Yer sister would be devastated if anything happened to ye. Ye are all the family she has left.”
“She has a husband now,” Steil said in a clipped voice.
Neely frowned. “There are others that would care—”
“Who?” he demanded, turning to her. “I have no family left.”
Neely stared at him. “Family is not always who was born under the same roof as ye,” she whispered. “There is family that ye are born into, and there is family that ye choose.”
Steil growled low in his throat and turned back to his horse.
“I would care,” Neely said in a soft whisper.
When he ignored her words she pulled on his arm, hard enough to turn him back to her. She reached up and cupped his face with one hand. “I would care,” she said again, in an aching whisper. She reached up with her other hand and pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. Sweetly, softly.
Steil’s mouth was rigid under hers. But Neely did not give up. She continued to kiss him, trailing her lips over his to
p lip. Then softly down to his bottom lip, nibbling at the corners of his mouth. Running the silken tip of her tongue along the tight seam of his stubborn mouth.
She moved on, gently kissing his cheek. Then his nose, and then his other cheek, as her lips softly trailed over his skin. She lightly kissed his eyelids, and then she placed her lips on his forehead, holding her mouth against his skin.
Hoping. Aching. Wishing that he could feel how very much she did care, and yet wishing that she did not.
Her heart was broken for him, for she knew this hard man was not the boy she had fallen in love with in her youth. What horrors of war had he been through to be like this? She did not know how to mend his broken pieces.
She was frightened for him.
She started to pull away but Steil let out a tortured groan. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her roughly back to him.
His mouth came down on hers, hard. He devoured her lips and mouth with such passion that all Neely could do was give it back to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. Meeting him thrust for thrust, their tongues warring and dancing with each other. He nibbled and bit and licked her lips like a man starving, as he tightened his hold on her. Then his mouth gentled and he kissed her tenderly.
But it was brief, like a flash of lightning, before he thrust her away.
“Leave me be, Neilina Eunson. I am not the mon I used to be.” He turned from her and stalked away.
Neely walked slowly back into camp, her eyes staring down at the ground, deep in thought as she tried not to cry. She was stopped by Swan, who stepped in front of her. Neely looked up. Swan was staring at her with concern as she wrung her hands together.
“Ye love me brother, I know ye do,” Swan spoke earnestly. “Ye always did. He used to think ye were a bit unhinged, how ye’d stare at him with moon eyes and follow him aboot. But now…hold fast Neely. Please, hold fast. Dinnae give up on him.”
Neely was numb. She could only nod her head as she moved past Swan.
They took their time that morning, giving Steil’s stallion and Keir’s scarred war horse time to rest. The camp was quiet as the men dozed and the women took the opportunity to wash in the nearby stream.
