by Jane Stain
Chuckling and sheathing his own sword on his back, Peadar started following.
“What did she say?” Vange asked as she hurried to keep up with the Scots’ long strides and get away from the ghastly scene.
“She does say the trews come in handy in a fight, and that she thinks on wearing them all the while.”
That made Vange smile again. Thinking that OK, maybe Peadar’s sister was alright, she climbed over roots, ducked under branches, and wove around the large trunks of some of the trees.
It seemed like Peadar was paying Vange as little attention as possible and had only grudgingly answered her question. However, he was lagging behind his sister.
Peigi noticed. She turned around and urged him on, and even if Vange couldn’t understand what she said, her meaning came through loud and clear:
“Quit flirting with her and hurry up.”
Yep, that was the gist of it.
Because Peadar blushed a little. And then he yelled something about their da that also had Vange’s name in it.
“Ug, let’s get this over with,” Vange said, starting to jog. She smiled when she thought she detected the tiniest of nods from Peadar.
Just barely keeping up with the two Scots, Vange jogged along through the thinning forest as long as she could—which was about twenty minutes. And then she sat down along the bank of a stream the Scots were crossing by leaping from stone to stone.
“I need to rest.” Vange managed to call out after them through the deep breaths she needed to take. While she rested, she dipped her Grayl Quest Water Filtration Cup into the stream and popped a replacement piece of bubblegum in her mouth.
Peigi said something impatiently.
Vange took a long drink of her water and called out, “You guys should come over and wash yourselves off in this stream anyway, Peigi. You don’t really want to greet your fella while you’re covered in blood, do you?”
She’d said that in jest, but they were getting close to that farmer’s market. Did these Scots really think nothing of showing up there covered in blood?
But Peadar must have found that hilarious, because he stood there laughing with his hands on his knees, staring at all the blood on his sister’s arms.
Peigi rolled her eyes and sighed, then made her way down to the bank beside Vange and washed her face and hands. Apparently deciding the weather was warm, so why not, she waded in and sat down, rinsing the blood off her trews, as well.
Laughing, Peadar waded in and was washing too.
The two of them splashed each other and laughed some more.
That was when Vange noticed.
“Peigi, you’re bleeding.” Vange dug in her pouch and pulled out an Ace bandage. “Here, let me bind that for you. It’ll slow the bleeding at least.”
Peigi was moving away from Vange with a wary look in her eyes until Peadar spoke to her, and then she only hesitantly allowed Vange to apply the Ace bandage to her lower left arm, just below the elbow.
“I think that will stop the bleeding. Doesn’t that hurt?”
There was a gash in the tanned part of Peigi’s forearm, remarkably close to where Emily’s scar was.
Both MacGregors laughed.
“OK, you guys’s sense of humor escapes me. What’s so funny about Peigi’s arm being hurt and her maybe bleeding to death?”
That only made them laugh harder.
“Fine,” Vange pouted, “I don’t care why you think that’s so funny, so there.”
And then smiling at her, they both quickly showed off all their scars. They had so many. And most of them were nasty jagged things.
“You guys get in lots of fights, huh.”
Still smiling, they both nodded and reassembled their clothing.
Vange put her stuff back in her pouches, got up, and got what she thought was a head start on walking.
But before long at all, Peigi called out, “Nay, we go this way,” and pointed along the tree line, around the clearing with the market in it.
“Aw, but fruit sounds so good right now.” Vange had been headed for the market. She was excited to see what one was like in this old-fashioned time, and she’d been contemplating trying to trade some bubblegum for some fresh fruit. “Can’t we go see if they have any?” Vange looked ahead to the market longingly.
“Nay,” said Peigi, ripping the Ace bandage off of her arm and throwing it at Vange.
Vange ducked. Who wanted a bloody Ace bandage? She’d get another one at Walmart tomorrow.
“Nay,” Peigi said again more forcefully, “we must needs be going. The Campbells will find their kin soon and seek vengeance. Anyhow, we will not be stopping any more for you, Vange.” She stormed off along the tree line at a quick walk.
With one nervous glance at Vange and a subtle tilt of his head to indicate he wanted her to come along but was not going to request it outright, Peadar followed his sister.
Vange hurried after him, but she had the feeling they were going the wrong way. She got out Emily’s phone and brought up the map while she walked. Yep, they should be going past the farmers’ market, up the mountain on the other side, and then down, and they would be there.
“Peigi. Peigi, it’s over there to the right, not this way.”
Peadar kept looking over his shoulder at Vange, but she had to call out ten or twelve times before his sister was persuaded to listen.
Even so, Peigi stood there with her hands on her hips and waited for Vange to come to her, rather than backtrack one step. She even stomped her foot.
Already so tired she was huffing and puffing with the exertion, Vange ran over to Peigi and tried to explain while showing her the phone map with its dot indicating their position and the line to where Peigi wanted to be.
Trying to show her, anyway.
Peigi shied away from the phone as if it were a bomb or something.
“Wow, what a difficult woman you are.”
Vange held up the phone and shook it. “You know what? I can just use this to go home right now. I’m sure you two don’t need me.”
She waited for Peadar to tell her he wanted her to stay.
That he enjoyed her company.
That he was sorry for his sister’s behavior.
The last thing Vange expected to happen was for someone to grab the phone right out of her hand.
And that was just what did happen.
“Hahahahaha.” The kid who had taken it sure was amused that he had, too. He ran up the mountain into the woods laughing, in the opposite direction from where Peigi needed to go.
Vange knew that if she had been alone, she would have just stood there in shock until she collapsed in a heap and cried herself out, she was so tired and so out of shape.
But Peadar barked some Gaelic at Peigi, gently pushed his sister in the direction Vange had said she should go, grabbed Vange’s hand, and started them running after the phone thief.
If they didn’t catch him, the situation was dire.
But Vange was in Heaven.
Peadar had ditched his precious sister in order to help her. His hand was warm in hers. Oh, and she was pretty sure he would get Emily’s phone back too, although she almost didn’t care.
13 Vange & Peadar 1
Vange clung to Peadar’s hand as they crashed uphill through the 1560 highlands forest, chasing the kid who had stolen Emily’s phone and the Time Management app. She tried to hold her skirts up with her other hand, but her inner skirt kept escaping her grip. Over and over, it fell down and tripped her, so that every few steps, Peadar had to pull her upright again.
She was gasping for breath.
“I can’t run anymore.”
“You must, lass.”
“I’ve already run more in the last hour than I did last year.”
“Heh ha ha. You cannot mean that, lass.”
Vange started to fall, she was so tired. Just before she hit the leafy ground, she felt Peadar’s strong arms catching her and then hoisting her up. And then he was carrying her lik
e a baby.
“Just set me down.”
His voice was steady as ever as he ran on, even jumping over fallen branches with her in his arms.
“I cannot. I must run after the wee phone we did lose, you ken?”
Oh, she kenned that he was running, alright. Her body was being jostled in a way that was keeping her from catching her breath. The feel of his strong arms holding her was dimly stirring other thoughts, but she was so tired she couldn’t even enjoy them.
“I’ll rest here while you catch the little creep.”
He laughed some more.
And he kept running, which was not what she had asked him to do.
“Put me down, Tarzan.”
He didn’t get that joke.
Of course not.
How would he?
One forest looked just like another, and Peadar was so … distracting. She kept forgetting they were stranded there until they got Emily’s phone back.
“Lass, and I put you down, you would not be there when I returned for you.”
“I won’t go anywhere. Please, I just want to lie down.”
What she really wanted was to lie on the couch eating some of her mom’s homemade lumpia rolls while she watched an episode of Outlander on demand.
But just lying down would do.
“You be lying down now.”
She pounded on his arm, but it just hurt her hand.
“I want to lie down on something that isn’t moving.”
“And I lie you down on the grass, the first man to pass by will pick you up again. Nay, I will not.”
She let that sink in for a minute and decided he was right.
“Thank you for carrying me.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Vange.”
At that, her other thoughts were definitely stirring. She gazed up at the handsome face she’d been daydreaming about ever since she met him two weeks before.
But he had crowned a ridge and stopped at the top.
“Why are we stopping?”
He put her down then, and while he spoke he pointed to three different pathways down through the woods.
“I did not see which way he did go, lass.”
“Let’s take the path less traveled by.”
Vange chuckled, proud of herself for remembering that poem they had read in 10th grade English class.
And then she remembered he wouldn’t get that joke, either. Man. She needed to get some things in common with him quick, or her joking touch was going to go stale.
“Can you walk now, lass?”
“Uh, yeah, thanks.”
Vange picked up the middles of her two long skirts with both hands this time and firmly hitched them over her belt. Now that her clothes dangled around her knees, she didn’t trip a once. But she missed holding Peadar’s hand.
They walked over to the pathway on the left, which was not even half cleared of stray branches, making it slow going unless they wanted scratches all over their faces. Both of their arms were covered with long linen sleeves. His chest was protected by a tunic and hers by a bodice. They both wore muffin caps. She wished she had on trews like he did.
No, who was she kidding? She wished he were wearing his kilt. She should never have let Emily talk the two of them into wearing English clothes. No Campbells had seen them…
“Why this pathway, lass?”
“I figure a thief doesn’t want to be seen.”
“Ah, aye, that be a good reckoning.”
He put his hand over his mouth and spoke at barely a whisper.
She took the hint and got quiet.
The barely-a-pathway led down into a ravine, and a creek ran down the center of it from above.
They whispered some more.
“This looks like a thieves’ den to me.”
“Aye, lass.”
He put his arm in front of her then and deftly tucked her behind him while his other hand drew his claymore from its scabbard on his back.
Without thinking about it, Vange put her hand on Peadar’s back to let him know she was right behind him as they crept along the scratchy pathway.
She whispered to him.
“Do you see anything?”
“Sh.”
He kept one hand on his sword and put the other behind him to shush her.
Vange felt a flicker of resentment at being treated like a child, but she got over it once she understood he was listening for any sign of their thief. Or his accomplices.
Peadar didn’t have to listen for long.
Vange felt an itch in the middle of her back and moved to scratch it, only she made contact with someone else’s hand.
“Huh.” Vange gasped.
So fast she didn’t see it happen, Peadar whirled and had his claymore at the throat of a little man.
“Who be you?” said the little man in English. He sounded incredulous, like he couldn’t believe someone had gotten the drop on him. He was dressed all in green stuff that looked more like romaine lettuce than clothes.
“I be Peadar MacGregor, and you will be giving back to Evangeline the phone that was stolen, brunaidh.”
Incredibly, with a sword pressed to his throat and all, the brunaidh chose to argue.
“I don’t have it, and anyway what is a phone?”
Peadar had opened his mouth to speak, but Vange put a hand on his arm to stop him. She took over with the discipline methods she had learned last semester, preparing to teach second graders. After all, this guy was about that size.
She wasn’t much taller, truth to tell.
“Never mind what a phone is. Just hand it over. It isn’t yours.”
She used the technique the teacher college had taught her. She held out her hand as if she fully expected the child to give her his phone. She’d wondered if people really bought phones for seven-year-olds, but now she was glad they might.
Meanwhile, the little man was struggling in the chokehold of Peadar, who pressed the sword up against his throat.
“I don’t have it.” the brunaidh whined, finally afraid.
Wow, he was a tough discipline case.
Vange crossed her arms and gave him a stern look that she hoped would brook no nonsense. She was bigger than him. A little. She stood up, straight and proud. Among her family members, she was considered tall.
She decided to try intimidating him with deduction.
That was an advanced technique. She’d gotten an A on her in-class demo of it.
“Well, you obviously know what we’re talking about, so if you don’t have it, then tell us where it is.”
The brunaidh screamed then.
“He took it.”
Peadar pressed the sword right into the little man’s neck, but Vange knew it was too late. The other brunaidhs had doubtless heard that.
“Aye, that we do know, lad.”
Vange tried once more, leaning into him this last time, to intimidate by proximity.
“Where did he take it? Which way did he go?”
Instinct made Vange duck down so that she was eye-to-eye with the little man when she said this, and Peadar followed her. It was a good thing, too.
Fwip. Fwip.
Two arrows raced through the area where their heads had been and juttered in a nearby tree.
“Tell them, ‘Do not shoot.’”
Peadar looked angry now, which was good, because Vange was so scared she could no longer speak. Her knees gave way in fact, and she landed on her bottom, making all the leaves poof out from under her.
“Do not shoot.”
As the little man yelled, his eyes definitely looked in more than one direction, which meant she and Peadar were surrounded.
Great.
Sure enough, a dozen people the size of seven-year-olds crept forward out of the trees around her, all dressed in romaine lettuce clothes.
Vange wanted to laugh, but they were all threatening her and Peadar with spears. It was still hard not to laugh. They were so cute and small, they almost seemed harmles
s.
Their leader was a bit taller than the rest, but not even as tall as Vange. He slowly advanced until his spear was at Peadar’s throat.
“Peadar MacGregor, tell us what the phone is, and we will spare your lives.”
Peadar kept his chin up, and he kept a firm grip on his claymore and on the brunaidh whose throat it was at.
“Nay, brunaidh. You must tell us where the phone is, and I will spare his life.”
All of them gathered around behind their leader and whispered then. Their discussion got quite heated. They would glance at Peadar now and then, but none of them looked at Vange even once.
Hm.
Hadn’t they noticed her?
This was like the part in the movie where everyone yelled at the woman, “Help him, for goodness sake. Don’t just stand there.”
But she was out in the woods.
There weren’t any vases she could break over anyone’s head.
Maybe she could sneak away and then somehow help Peadar get away? She had to do something.
Vange slowly lowered herself to the ground in preparation to crawl backward.
Oops.
That had been a bad idea.
Apparently, they had noticed her but had just dismissed her as not a threat, because now that she was moving, they stopped her.
That was all she really knew.
One moment, she’d been starting to crawl backward. The next moment she was flat on her stomach watching Peadar dance around over her with his sword extended out, batting away at the circle of spears that surrounded them.
He was pretty amazing to watch. It was as if he were in a carefully choreographed dance where all the spears came at him and he moved between some and batted some aside and jumped over others.
But it wasn’t a dance.
He might die.
Vange held her breath, afraid even the small puff of air coming from her lungs might mess up Peadar’s delicate balancing act.
But the brunaidh they had captured was running around loose now, and laughing.
“Ha ha ha. That is one stupid woman you have there, Peadar MacGregor.”
The others joined in on the taunting.
“Ha ha. What have you to bargain with now?”
“Naught. That be what.”
Peadar put up a good fight, but in the end he was one man with a sword and they were a dozen with spears. At least they didn’t kill him. Not before they knocked her on the head, anyway.
