Craved By The Highland Wolf (The Clan MacGregor Book 3)

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Craved By The Highland Wolf (The Clan MacGregor Book 3) Page 6

by Stephanie Marks


  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “And I’ve sent two of the girls out to gather some more. They should be back shortly.”

  “I hope that the other towns are using this time wisely to prepare. I hate the thought of them being caught unaware.” I looked out the window to the pale blue sky. Afternoon was coming to an end and it wouldn’t be long until we had to pack our things and head back to the castle.

  Mrs. Fletcher came and stood beside me. After a moment she slid her hand into mine. Her skin was thin and papery, and even though I could feel the hard calluses she bore from a life of hard work, the skin on the back of her hand was still very soft.

  “Our men will have ridden long and hard. They know what is at stake. They’ve been sure to tell the others what’s needed if we’re to survive this, Lady MacGregor. I’ve know doubt of that. Everyone will be preparing themselves, just the same as us. And when the Campbell men take their first foolish steps onto our land, they’ll find themselves living their worst nightmares. Ye don’t just walk into a wolf’s woods as bold as ye please and expect to come out alive. They think we’re devils and demons? We’ll show them hell, no doubt about it.”

  I nodded and squeezed her hand. “You’re a fine woman, Mrs. Fletcher, and I’m proud to be working alongside you in this.”

  “And I you, my lady. I’ll not deny that when ye first came to us, I had my doubts,” she said gruffly. “But I’ve come to see that you’re just as much a MacGregor as the rest of us. The MacGregor couldn’t have picked a finer woman as his wife.”

  “Thank you,” I told her, touched by her admission.

  “Come now,” she said, pulling her hand from mine so she could smooth the wrinkles on the front of her serviceable brown gown. “There’s more to be doing around here and not nearly enough time to be doing it in.”

  ***

  I walked out of the church as the sun was beginning to set and was surprised to find Alastair waiting for me outside. He was sitting atop a large white horse and his hands held the reins of a second mount that I assumed was meant for me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  He looked weary. Deep lines were etched into his face, and though he sat straight in the saddle, I could make out the effort it took him to keep his back rigid. He would not want to show any sign of weakness.

  The two guards who had been sent to protect us were heading toward their horses with Mrs. Fletcher and the kitchen maids who had been assigned to us for medical duty. Alastair moved to dismount but I held up my hand to stop him. I was easily able to climb up onto my horse without any assistance.

  “We were finished sooner than I expected, and I wanted to escort ye back to the keep. I’d like to spend as much time with ye as possible while we can,” he said. As soon as I was seated he took my arm and tugged me sideways, then leaned closer to press a quick kiss to my lips, headless of those around us.

  I pulled away to see Donald looking at us. When he saw that he had my attention, he wiggled his eyebrows at me and blinked boldly. I could feel my face growing warm as I blushed lightly. I loved when Alastair kissed me, but I sometimes felt self-conscious when he did it in front of others.

  “Come on, lad, we canna be sitting around all here all night while you make calf eyes at your wife,” Donald barked jokingly as he kicked his horse into a trot.

  I dug my heels into my horse’s flank and started off after him, laughing instinctively at the scowl Alastair leveled at his uncle’s back. I was caught off-guard by the sound. I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard laughter since we got word that the Campbells were soon to be on the move.

  Alastair looked over at me and grinned widely. The strain of the day seemed to fall from his shoulders as he pulled his horse just ahead of mine and picked up speed. I urged my horse faster and faster, until its nose inched past the nose of Alastair’s mount.

  Tossing my hair back over my shoulder, I leaned forward in my saddle until Alastair was fully behind me. I looked back at him and laughed. Accepting my challenge, Alastair urged his horse faster to keep up with me and we continued to race out of Fortingall and down the road toward the castle, our horses staying neck and neck with one another.

  Because they could not risk losing sight of us, the others joined our race, and soon our entire party was laughing as we galloped down the winding road, each of us trying to pull ahead of the other, enjoying for the moment the freedom from worry and doubt.

  Suddenly, Ian jerked in his saddle and his horse stumbled. I watched as one hand went to his shoulder while he tried to gain control of his horse with the other. Even as he struggled, Ian’s head was up, scanning the trees on either side of the road, his head whipping back and forth. When he turned in his saddle I saw a large arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder and I too scanned the crowd for attackers.

  Ian’s brother was soon at his side, his sword drawn, ready for another attack, determined to defend his brother.

  Ian took hold of the arrow shaft and pulled, wrenching if free from his shoulder just as a second arrow flew past, just barely missing Alastair.

  “They are tipped in silver!” Ian yelled in warning.

  “Spread out!” Alastair yelled. “Find them! Glenna, guard the women!”

  I wheeled my horse around and herded Mrs. Fletcher and the girls into a tight circle. Whipping my head around, I took note of in which directions the men were headed into the trees.

  My shock that Alastair would leave me to defend the other women by myself was quickly replaced with pride and then determination. This was what I had wanted: a chance to prove that I could be useful when the time came.

  There was a rustling in the trees and I tensed, preparing myself to lunge from my horse and shift, but it was not needed. Alastair emerged from the trees, a struggling man bound tightly in his grip, cursing Alastair’s name. When they reached the road Alastair held the man up in front of his chest and Liam pressed the point of his dirk to the man’s throat.

  “Ye shot my brother,” he snarled at the man, pressing until a bright spot of blood welled up and the crimson bead rolled down his throat.

  “I was trying to shoot the MacGregor,” the prisoner snarled, “but I canna say I’m sorry that my arrow found a new target.”

  “How many more of ye are there?” Alastair demanded as Liam leaned in menacingly.

  “I’ll never tell ye, so you’ll just have to kill me, and then you’ll ever know, will ye? So ye might as well get on with it, then.”

  I could hear a low, menacing growl coming from Liam as he grabbed the man by the throat and shook him roughly. “How many!” he shouted.

  “I’ll not tell ye a thing!” The man spat in Liam’s face and grinned triumphantly.

  “Look away, Glenna,” Alastair said quietly.

  The simmering rage in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I quickly turned away from the sight, directing the other women to do the same.

  A loud crack rang out and the man’s agonized screams tore through the air. I risked glancing over my shoulder to see tears streaming down the man’s face and his left arm hanging strangely. I had no doubt that the arm was broken and that he would have been doubled over in pain if it were not for Alastair holding him upright so that Liam could continue to question him.

  “Now, I’ll be asking ye for the last time. Are there any more men in the trees?”

  “No,” the Campbell man said, shaking his head. “There’s no one but me. I was just meant to keep watch. But when I saw the MacGregor riding by, I thought I’d take my chance and rid the highlands of the devil spawn myself.”

  Alastair jerked him roughly and the man groaned in pain. “How far away are the rest of the Campbells?” Alastair demanded. “How many are coming for us?”

  “As many as we could find.” The man tried to laugh but he trailed off weakly, his bravado slipping away.

  Alastair grabbed the man’s injured arm and pulled on it and the man screamed again. His face went bone-white and his
Adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically, as if he were trying to keep himself from being sick.

  “How many!” Alastair shouted.

  “Hundreds,” the man hissed. “Enough to wipe ye and your cursed filthy clan from the earth and send ye back to the hell from where ye came. We’ll be upon ye before ye’ve blinked.”

  “We’ll be sure to keep our eyes open, then,” Alastair said calmly, with a nod to Liam.

  Liam sheathed his dirk and placed his hands on either side of the Campbell clansman’s head. Then, with a swift twist, he snapped his neck.

  “They are almost here,” Alastair proclaimed. “He wouldn’t have risked this, even if he saw an opportunity for himself to try to kill me, if he didn’t know that the rest of the men would soon be here.”

  “We must go back to Fortingall,” I said, understanding.

  “Yes.” He nodded swiftly. “Donald and I will ride back to the keep alone to gather the men. Ian and Liam will take you back to town. Donald, once we arrive at the keep, it is your job to defend it. I will take my group of men out to meet the Campbells before they can get too near us.”

  I stepped forward and Alastair reached out to me, pulling me tightly to his side, but he didn’t take his eyes off his men as he gave them their orders. “We will likely meet one of our lookout riders on the way. With the Campbells so close, they will have been spotted. We’ve no way to know how many other villages and croftings have already been hit along the way. We have gained precious time here. Don’t waste it.”

  Alastair looked up to the setting sun and then back at us, his eyes steely and determined. “Night is almost upon us. We have the advantage.”

  The others strode away to remount their horses and Alastair turned to me, his long fingers digging into the flesh of my arm. I reached up and took hold of him just as tightly as we stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Do not be doing anything vera foolish, do ye hear me?” he said.

  His gaze roamed over my face with such intensity it was if he were trying to commit every line to memory. I was suddenly very scared.

  “I could say the same to you.” I grasped at his shirtsleeves and tugged him closer until our bodies were pressed up against each other with barely enough space for a breath of wind to pass between us.

  “You stay alive, Alastair MacGregor. Do you understand me? You stay alive, and you find me once this is done!”

  Suddenly the air was gone from my lungs as I was crushed to him. Clinging to him in desperation, I poured all of my love into our kiss, determined to will him into surviving. If God was watching us at that very moment, I wanted there to be no doubt in His mind that we would not tolerate being taken from each other. Not now.

  We broke apart, panting slightly, short of breath. Fire burned in Alastair’s bewitching green eyes that I knew was reflected in my own blue ones. He ran a hand through the soft waves of my hair before clenching it in his fist. “Be safe,” he whispered before releasing me. “And know that I love you.”

  Without another word he turned from me and climbed up onto his horse. With one final glance he nodded to me before wheeling his horse around and galloping down the road toward the castle.

  I stood there in the dirt road as the dust from the horse’s hooves swirled around me, praying with all my might that this was not going to be the last time I saw the man I loved.

  CHAPTER 10

  We rode back to Fortingall as fast as we could, our horses’ hooves flying. We kicked up dust behind us as we raced against the setting sun.

  The last rays of sunlight were just beginning to fade behind the horizon as we rode up to the first of the homes. Silently we spread out, but always kept within sight of one another as we alerted the people to the Campbells’ imminent arrival. The air hummed with tension as we spoke in hushed voices, hurrying from house to house, ensuring that everyone would be prepared.

  Weapons were drawn and windows were shuttered as people clung to their loved ones, waiting in tense silence to hear the first sounds of war.

  Mrs. Fletcher, Sarah, Anna, Molly and I sat in silence as well. Others had come to defend the church with Ian and Liam, wanting to ensure that anyone needing to get inside for medical attention would be able to find their way through.

  The maids sat shivering, despite the warmth. It was not a chill in the air that wracked their bodies, but the pervasive, lingering scent of fear. They clutched at each other’s hands, heads bent in prayer. No matter the outcome of this night their lives, all of our lives, would be forever changed. Even if we defeated the Campbells, would others come? Would our secret be spread throughout the highlands for others to condemn? Would other clans decide to join the Campbells’ cause and become determined to wipe us out?

  These were the questions that ran through my head as I sat silently in a pew of the old church. I stared down at my hands clasped tightly in front of me and barely glanced up when Father MacGregor came and sat down beside me. We sat together like that, without saying a word, and waited, time passing by unchecked.

  “They may not come tonight,” said one of the girls behind me. Without turning around I could not tell which one.

  Suddenly a wave of guilt crashed over me. It was possible that one or all of these young women could die tonight and yet I did not know them well enough to be able to tell them apart by voice alone.

  My hands shook as I tried to bury the guilt. I tried to convince myself that it was unrealistic of me to want to know every single man, woman and child of clan MacGregor, let alone know them intimately. But the guilt would not abate.

  I spun around in my seat and stared at the three girls, trying to memorize every detail about them. Sarah with her blonde hair and sweet laugh. Anna with eyes like bluebells and a tongue so sharp it often got her in trouble with Mrs. Fletcher, earning her a quick swat with a spoon. And Molly. Molly was quiet, but always had a spark of intelligence and determination in her grey eyes.

  Mrs. Fletcher sat slightly apart from the girls. She had been watching them closely but looked at me then. I felt as though she could read my mind and knew exactly what I was thinking. But I did not feel shame. Instead I felt an awareness and kinship. It was then that I understood that she had been doing the same thing. Even though Mrs. Fletcher had worked with these girls in the kitchen for years, she also felt a need to watch them, study them, and commit them to memory.

  Sometimes, no matter how well you knew someone, it just wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

  I thought back to the way Alastair had examined my face before leaving me just a few hours before.

  No, it didn’t matter. You would always feel as though you should have listened more, loved harder, paid closer attention. You would always regret that you hadn’t cherished each moment, that you’d done little more than simply breathe the same air as the people around you.

  I looked back over my life, reflecting fondly upon my father and my brother Flynn. And as I sat there, trying to examine the tapestry of my life for any signs of black threads of regret, I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered that I had none. No matter what hardships I had faced up until now, there was not a single moment I would have chosen to do differently.

  My back straightened as a great weight lifted off of my shoulders. I was not yet ready to die, but if there was some other plan for me in the coming days I knew with all certainty that I could face my death without regret. And somehow, knowing that filled me with a great peace.

  “We canna know for certain that they will come tonight,” said Sarah. Her eyes shone with a tentative hope.

  “You’re right, Sarah,” I told her with a sad smile. “None of us know for sure. They may not come tonight after all.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and let her shoulders sag with relief. I did not want to take her hope for the chance of one more peaceful night away. She was right; there was no guarantee. We did not know for sure that the attack would come tonight.

  But I could feel it. I knew with absolutely certainty that the night had come
. And while I didn’t know what had happened to our riders, I trusted my instincts.

  We should have had warning from our own men, but there was a very good chance that our scouts were being held captive even at that very moment and had no way to send word.

  Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered. I could smell it on the wind and taste it on my tongue. The truth of it hung in the very air.

  I stood and walked to one of the church’s windows to look out into the night. A clansman walked past the window, not bothering to look inside, and instead continued to scan the area around him, tense and at the ready. I looked past him as far as I could deep into the black night. The muscles in my body were tight, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

  It almost came as a relief when a few moments later the first screams tore through the air.

  ***

  “I need more light over here!” I yelled to no one in particular without raising my head. We were all busy, but a moment later another lit candle was shoved toward me, helping to illuminate the wound I was attempting to dress.

  The young man’s forehead was covered in sweat, and droplets were dripping off of his ear onto the damp, makeshift bed beneath him. I longed to blot the moisture from his brow, to make him more comfortable in some way, but the slice across his chest was more important than the rivers of sweat that were running into his eyes.

  My hands trembled lightly as I drew the thread through his overly warm flesh, trying to stitch the wound closed as carefully as possible.

  I had never cared much for needlework when I was younger, and my tutor had considered me adequate at best. There was no denying that I had been far more adept at sitting a horse than I had been at needlepoint.

  I focused intently, determined to stitch the wounded man back together to the best of my ability. I had never been so grateful for my father insisting that I continue with my lessons.

  When I was finished I stepped back and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re all done now. Take some time to rest. I’ll be back to check on you when I can.”

 

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