“Still, Ina knows when to hold her tongue.”
Liam laughed. “When did Ina ever hold her tongue?”
A smile tickled the corners of Rogan’s mouth. “I remember when she was but six years and claimed that she loved you and that you would one day be her husband, then continued to remind you of it through the years.”
Liam nodded, his smile growing wider. “And reminded me of it yet again just before we took our vows, though I think it was more of an I-told-you-so.”
“You are a lucky man to have a woman who loves you that much.”
“That I am, and grateful for her every day.”
Both men watched as Emma turned her horse and rode toward them.
“You are the tracker?” Emma asked, fairly sure he was since she had seen him earlier studying the ground.
“I am,” Liam said proud of his skill.
“Then what are you doing here prattling on like a gossiping woman when tracks need to be watched?” She did not give either man a chance to respond. “Come with me, I want to show you something.” Again she gave them no chance to respond. She rode off, expecting to be followed.
“One day…” Rogan said through gritted teeth.
“I was waiting for her to discover the problem,” Liam said.
“What problem?”
“There are two sets of tracks. They divide where Emma had stopped. The question is who do the two tracks belong to and why would the two diverge?”
Rogan followed Liam to see for himself.
Emma slid off her mare and studied the tracks. If one did not have a good eye for tracking, the fact that one set of tracks converged with the other would not be noticed. She followed along the one trail a few feet, and then turned and followed the other one.
Liam dismounted and did the same.
Rogan remained on his horse watching the pair, though his eyes mostly followed Emma. It did not surprise him that her extensive knowledge included tracking. It was widely known that her unique skills had greatly benefitted the Macinnes clan. Their harvests were more than bountiful and their livestock well-bred. Winters saw no shortage of food for the large clan and, due to Emma’s expanding knowledge of plants, illnesses were not as rampant as in other clans. It was the reason his father had requested that she accompany Heather. He wanted her to show him what needed to be done so that the MacClennan clan could flourish like the Macinnes clan.
Liam turned to Emma. “It would appear that the group that captured Heather divided, leaving your sister Patience to make a choice as to which trail to follow.”
“So it would appear,” Emma agreed, “though knowing Patience she would have sent a warrior or two along the other path so as not to choose the wrong one and waste time following a worthless trail.”
“That would mean that since no reverse tracks are here that she had chosen the correct path to follow,” Liam said with a satisfied nod and looked to Rogan and pointed. “We go that way.”
Rogan and Liam were both surprised when Emma mounted her mare on her own. With her own strength, she pulled herself up and onto the horse and without a glance to either man, she followed the trail her sister Patience had taken.
Once on his horse, Liam turned to Rogan. “I will scout ahead.”
“Keep an extra eye out,” Rogan warned. “Emma had said that no one had been spotted before the attack. Her injured warriors had also commented on how their attackers appeared out of nowhere like ghosts.”
Liam stared at him for a moment, as if fearful of speaking what he thought.
“I know what you are thinking, for I have thought the same myself. It sounds like the work of the Dark Dragon. His warriors appear out of nowhere and vanish to God knows where.”
“No one has ever tracked him or at least lived to tell about it,” Liam said. “But what would he want with Heather?”
“My thought exactly. And though many reasons have run through my mind, none make any sense, except one.”
Liam felt his gut tighten, for he was sure he had reached the same conclusion as Rogan.
“The Dark Dragon wants Heather for himself,” Rogan said, fighting to keep his anger at bay.
“No!” Emma said empathically.
Both men turned, seeing that she was only a few feet from them.
“Do not say such a thing. A vile creature such as he could not have Heather.” Emma fought back tears at such a horrible possibility. She turned pleading eyes on Rogan. “Please, we must find her.”
“We will,” Rogan assured her, his gut wrenching at the pain he saw in her eyes, and he turned to Liam. “Follow the trail ahead and alert us to any changes. Keep a fast pace, for we shall as well.”
Rogan did as he said. They traveled at a sharp pace, not deviating from the trail Patience had taken. Emma was sure that her sister had kept a fierce pace, not wanting to take a chance that Heather would be lost to them. And she felt the same. She hoped, though more prayed, they would come upon her sisters safe and waiting from them to come to their aid, but as the day wore on her hope faded.
It was just before nightfall that Rogan ordered his troop to stop, and though Emma wanted to protest, she knew it would be a foolish thing to do. They had ridden long and hard and needed the rest so that tomorrow they could begin anew. Patience had always warned her that strength needed to be maintained if one was to succeed in her endeavor. Whether hungry or not, one was to eat and whether tired or not, one was to sleep. Otherwise a battle, a mission, a task would fail.
Emma ate heartily when presented with food that night, her sister’s words ringing in her ears, reminding what she must do, though her stomach had no use for sustenance. Sleep was harder for her to achieve, and she found herself staring at the flames until, unable to deal with her worrying thoughts, she sat up.
She walked soundlessly around the camp, listening to the warriors snoring and wishing she and her sisters were home and that this was nothing more than a nightmare.
“Sleep eludes you?”
Emma startled, though gave no shout of alarm, another thing Patience had taught her. A sharp cry could alert the enemy to your whereabouts, and Patience had put her through grueling tests until Emma no longer yelped in unexpected fright.
“More like worry keeps sleep at bay,” Emma said as she approached Rogan’s shadow on the outskirts of the camp. “You stand guard?”
“I do not ask of my men what I would not ask of myself.”
“My father felt the same until his illness intruded.”
“Your father is a good man and a wise leader. I was sorry to hear that he had taken ill.”
“He has improved, though has not returned to his full vigor—in time—I hope.” Emma was glad for the dark, for she did not want this mighty warrior to see the tears that stung her eyes. She worried endlessly about her da. He was, as Rogan said, a good man, but more than that he was a wonderful father. She could not bear the thought of losing him, which was why she worked so hard in treating his many maladies.
“I am sure he will do well, especially with a daughter such as yourself to help him. I am pleased he has agreed for you to remain with my clan for as long as necessary to show me what must be done to make the MacClennan clan thrive like the Macinnes clan.”
Emma found herself speechless, though only for a few moments. “My father made no mention of such an arrangement to me. I was to show you what I could while my sister visited with you, and then I was to return home with her.”
“He probably forgot,” Rogan said, thinking nothing of it.
It was possible, Emma thought. Her father had seemed a bit forgetful of late, but to agree before discussing it with her was not like her da. And though she and her sisters had not agreed with all his decisions regarding them, his word was always final, and they respected and obeyed it—with a little of their own meddling of course.
“I suppose,” Emma said, “but until I hear it from him, I will not be extending my stay at your home.”
Rogan stepped further out of th
e shadows and closer to Emma. That he was an impressive size did not fail to catch her breath. And the faint light from the sliver of the moon fell across his face and made her breath catch twice and her stomach clench. Never had she seen such a handsome man. Heather and he would make a perfect pair, one more beautiful than the other.
Rogan placed his face an inch from hers and his words suddenly caught in his throat. Shadows wrapped around her like a protective cloak except for her face. And he could not help but see how flawless and smooth her skin was, not pale like many women, but more creamy as if it begged to be touched and kissed.
He realized at that moment he was growing aroused and he grew annoyed, and his tone grew brusque. “You will be staying with me as long as I want you—and need you.”
His words gripped at her heart, though she was well aware that he did not mean it as her heart had taken it. And why had he paused, brief as it was, to add and need you? And why did her body feel as if it had suddenly come alive? It was as if her skin was more sensitive and she could feel the heat that drifted off his body tickle her flesh and send gooseflesh running over every inch of her.
She fought against the pervading sensation, though she would have much rather surrendered to it. The sinful thought had her coming to her senses and she gave her chin a toss. “You are not my father or my husband, therefore, I do not take orders from you. I will do as I please.’
Why the bloody hell was her defiance spiking his arousal? More annoyed than ever, he said, “You will do as I say.”
“Not likely.”
He gripped both her arms and her bright green eyes challenged defiantly.
Kiss her.
The thought was like a punch to his midsection. Whatever the hell was he thinking? He did not want to kiss her. Then why had he grown so aroused? She was a bold, mule-headed woman who needed to be—kissed.
Rogan let go of her and stepped away. He had no right thinking such thoughts. She was the sister of his intended.
“Go and sleep,” he ordered, wanting her away from him since his hands itched to reach out and take hold of her once again and give her a good solid kiss. God help him, but he ached to kiss her senseless. Never had he felt such a strong desire to kiss a woman as he did right now. “Go,” he ordered again.”
Emma turned and hurried off, her stomach fluttering as madly as her heart. She stretched out on her blanket and shut her eyes tightly. Whatever was the matter with her? For a moment, a sheer moment, she thought Rogan was about to kiss her. And worse, she wanted him to.
This was utter madness. He was Heather’s intended and even if he was not, he was a mighty warrior who dictated far too much to her liking. She had to keep her distance from him. She had to, or chance doing something she would regret.
Chapter Five
Morning had dawned cloudy and Emma prayed that it would not rain. Tracks would be that much harder or impossible to follow since the previous rainstorm had already done a fine job of making tracking difficult. Add to that possibility, her sleepless night and troubling thoughts and the day was proving more than challenging, and it was only mid-morning.
Emma had done her best to avoid Rogan, spending more time with Liam. He was an exceptional tracker and Patience would have been impressed by his knowledge and want to learn more from him. But they had to find her first and find Heather. Emma would not return without her sisters. She would search no matter how long it took, though she prayed endlessly that they would come upon them soon and all would be well.
The attack came without warning. Warriors rushed from the woods and dropped out of trees so fast that Rogan’s men barely had time to react, leaving quite a few injured before swords were drawn.
Emma watched the melee in stunned silence. Not once did an attacking warrior approach her. It was almost as if she was invisible or she was ignored on purpose. Rogan and his men fought valiantly and impressively, yet the attacking warriors outfought them at every turn. It was as if they could not be touched, as if the warriors were ghosts.
The attack ended almost as quickly as it had begun, the enemy warriors disappearing as fast as they had appeared. Several of Rogan’s men lay wounded on the ground, though none had lost their lives. And not a single one of the foe lay dead or wounded badly enough to have been left behind.
Rogan was the first to move, his men looking around as if in shock, as if not comprehending what had just happened. Emma followed his lead, dismounting and hurrying to tend the wounded.
“You know what to do,” Rogan shouted and his men startled and hurried to obey.
Warriors formed a circle around the area, swords in hand, in case the ghost warriors returned. Others warriors went to help the injured, though when they realized that Emma knew much more than they did, they followed her command.
Rogan went to Liam. “You saw no signs of this?” He did not accuse. He was more shocked, Liam never having failed to alert him to anyone in the area when they traveled.
“Not a single sign,” Liam said upset. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “I cannot believe I missed this.”
“What you and I cannot believe—do not want to believe—is that we were attacked by ghost warriors, which means that the Dark Dragon is involved in this.”
“They barely left a footprint,” Liam said, as if not believing his own words. “They struck with such precision, and then vanished. Look around. They have wounded half of our men.”
Rogan did not have to look. “I have already realized that. They weakened my troop.” He knew what that meant and he knew what would be his wisest move.
Liam voiced Rogan’s thoughts. “They will attack again and keep attacking until you have no warriors left and have no choice but to retreat. You need to return home and gather a larger contingency of men.”
“I do that and I take a greater risk of not finding Heather.”
“They will not stop. This is only the beginning of their assaults. And since we cannot see them, we will not know when they will strike again, leaving us vulnerable.” Liam voiced what Rogan already knew, but then they thought much alike.
Emma approached the two men. “Injures are either leg or arm wounds, leaving them unable to fight. It would be best to send them home, since I do not have everything I need here to tend them, and they will require rest to heal.”
“Then you will go with them,” Rogan said, seeing a problem that had plagued him since last night, now solved.
“I will not,” Emma said most empathically.
“You will,” Rogan ordered just as strongly.
“Have you learned nothing?” Emma said, her finger rushing forward to jab him in the chest.
Rogan’s hand grabbed her wrist just before her finger could hit him, his large hand circling her delicate bones with ease. One good squeeze would see it crushed, so he was careful as to how hard he gripped her. “I have no time for your nonsense. You will do as I say and that is final.” He let go of her wrist with a toss and turned and walked away.
“The best way to help your sister is to do what Rogan says,” Liam advised.
“You have eyes for tracks, yet you see nothing else?”
Liam scrunched his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Did you not see that I was completely ignored during battle? It was as if they could not see me or purposely avoided me. For some reason they have kept their distance from me, which means I am safer than anyone else here. I do not care if I am the last one left, I will continue to search for my sister or perhaps they will take pity on me and bring me to her. But either way, I will not be leaving.”
Liam watched her turn and walk away, going once again to tend the wounded. He turned and hurried to Rogan and related what Emma had said.
“I saw that myself when I made ready to go and protect her. She was removed from the battle, not a single warrior charging her. I thought it odd, though I had no time to reflect on it. Now, however, it seems so very strange.”
“This whole abduction is strange,”
Liam said. “You should return home and—”
“I cannot. I must continue my search for Heather.”
Liam gave a nod toward Emma. “She will not be left behind.”
“She has no choice.”
“If you force her to go, she will leave the troop and follow us or, Lord forbid, go on her own.”
Rogan shook his head. He had foolishly thought his problem had been solved. The idea that she would try searching for her sister on her own angered him and made his stomach clench, as if a hand had gripped it and twisted tight.
“As Emma said, she is in less danger than any of us,” Liam said.
“But for how long? How long before her persistence grows unwelcome? Then what?” Another twist to his gut had him spewing several oaths.
“She twists you in knots,” Liam said with a grin. “I have never known a woman who could do that to you.”
“Mind your mouth that it speaks such foolishness.”
“Too bad you are already spoken for,” Liam said, his grin growing. “Emma might just be the one who could challenge and win against a pig-headed bastard like you.”
“You are lucky that I call you friend.”
“And you are lucky I call you friend, since there is no one else who would speak so truthfully to you,” Liam said, “which is why I say turn around now and go home.”
“You know I cannot do that.”
“Duty,” Liam said sadly. “It forever haunts you and you are forever beholden to it.”
*
When Emma finished seeing to the injured men, she approached Rogan. She was not sure what she would say. She only knew that she could not be sent home, especially his home. She had to keep on her sister’s trail. She had to find her before it was too late.
“You cannot send me away,” she blurted out when she was but a few steps away from him.
He saw the desperation in her eyes, the rise of her chest as her breathing labored and how her hands trembled even though they were locked together. She had been unsure about approaching him and yet she had done so anyway. She had not let her fear stop her and for that he admired her.
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