by B. J. Scott
“Hold the gate, Seamus,” she shouted. As luck would have it, he had opened the portcullis so a garrison of her father’s men could return from patrolling the estate, and she was relieved to see it still half raised. “You may close it as soon as I am through.”
“Best you wait until we can fully open it again,” Seamus yelled.
To do so would give Andrew a chance to catch up to her, and she wasn’t about to let that happen. Rather than wait, she ignored Seamus’s warning and leaned over the horse’s neck to give her head clearance as she passed beneath the iron spikes. “Give me all you have, Star,” she whispered into the horse’s ear. “We need to put as much distance between us and the castle as possible.”
By catching Andrew off guard and making it through the portcullis before it lowered, she hoped she’d bought herself enough time to get away. Once he realized what was happening, he’d have to wait for Seamus to raise the gate again before he could follow her.
She rode hard, not sparing the horse, or daring to glance behind herself until they reached a copse of trees along the bank of the river. Certain there was no way Andrew could find her, she slowed Star to a walk, then stopped long enough for the horse to get a drink and to fill her wineskin.
She quickly dismounted and knelt beside the stream, smiling when she spotted a doe and her fawn grazing in the meadow on the other side. This had always been, and still was one of her favorite places on her father’s land, a spot she could go when she wanted to be alone. And right now, she needed to have some time to think about her future. It wasn’t like her to behave in a reckless manner. While an independent spirit, she was always cautious and seldom did anything that would put herself or anyone else in danger. Yet when in Andrew’s presence, all common sense dissipated.
“You are still as skilled a horsewoman as always.”
Startled by the deep rumble of Andrew’s voice, Mareal dropped her wineskin into the stream.
“Allow me.” Andrew stepped around her and waded into the water to retrieve the flagon.
Frustrated and wondering how he’d managed to catch up with her so quickly, Mareal rocked back, rested on her heels, and blew out a sigh. “How did you find me?”
Andrew shrugged and handed her the wineskin. “I never lost you. But if I had, I remembered that you often came here when you were a bairn.”
“I dinna think you or anyone else knew about this place.”
“You were na the only one who followed someone in secret.” His lips curled. “Kayden and I knew where all your hiding places were. When you headed off in this direction, it dinna take a scholar to guess where you might go.”
“Why did you insist on following me when I told you I dinna need anyone to come with me?” Mareal stood and brushed the leaves and dirt from her trews. “As you can see, there is no one here to do me any harm.” To emphasize her point, she motioned with a wide sweep of her arm around the clearing. “So, if you’ll leave me be, I can get on with my tasks and tend to the sick.”
Mareal turned to go, but Andrew quickly blocked her path. “I requested that you na leave the castle without an escort.” He crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “Since that dinna work, I am now ordering you na to leave the castle alone.”
“You order me?” With her hands firmly planted on her hips, she returned his glower. “My father may have asked you to come to MacCurtry Castle to assist him with his affairs, but as long as he is alive, I take orders from him and no one else.” She tried to leave, but as she passed by him and their shoulders brushed, he snagged her by the upper arm, then spun her around to face him.
“Listen well, lass, for I am only going to say this once,” Andrew growled through clenched teeth. “Your father has requested that I act on his behalf. That includes making sure you are safe. While he is ill, you will listen to what I say and na do anything that will cause him to worry, or that might put yourself in danger.” He released her arm and took a step back. “Now, if you have finished acting like a spoiled bairn, we can see to those who need your help, then return to the castle together. If that is not a suitable option, we will go back, now.” He again closed the small gap between them, his stare of determination locked with hers. “And be fair warned, I am not beyond tossing you over my saddle and carrying you home if called upon to do so.”
At a loss for words, Mareal blinked several times and her jaw went slack. He was no longer the shy lad she once knew. Before her was a strong, confident warrior, a man who knew his mind and stood firm in his convictions. Normally she dealt with things as they came up, and for the most part obeyed her father’s wishes, but there was something about Andrew that brought out her rebellious side, made her act in a way and say things she normally would not. For that reason, she refrained from comment until she could get her wits about her.
She wasn’t proud of how poorly she had behaved since Andrew’s arrival. He likely did not want to come any more than she wanted him here, but out of respect and admiration for her father, he had answered his summons. For that loyalty, she should be grateful. Racing off and leaving him behind at the stable had not only been impetuous, but foolish. She did not blame him for calling her a spoiled bairn, but if she had it to do over again, she could not honestly say, she would do anything differently.
Mareal squared her shoulders and caught his gaze. “I promised Hamish MacKay I would look in on his wife afore noon. She is with child and due to give birth any day. There is also a croft at the far end of the holdings, owned by Tiran McCabe. He fell while repairing the roof and broke his leg, I need to check on him as well.”
“I know Tiran. It will be good to see him again.” Andrew stepped aside and allowed Mareal to pass. “Is there anyone else you need to visit?” He followed her to the horses and waited for her to mount before climbing atop his destrier.
“Nay. However, I must stop in the meadow at the edge of the forest to pick some fresh herbs for Donella.” She nudged her horse forward, but this time, she did so at a walk.
****
They rode over miles of heather-dotted meadows and rocky terrain. Given her somber expression and silence, Andrew sensed that Mareal was still upset with him, but at least she was not trying to bolt again. He was aware she didn’t like him giving her orders or governing her activities, but if she insisted on sneaking out of the castle alone and putting herself in danger, she’d have no choice. So far, he had seen no sign of threats or reasons for undue concern, but he was not about to take any chances. If he wanted to establish who was in charge during her father’s illness and expected her to heed his requests, he had to stand his ground. A task he was sure sounded easier to accomplish than it was.
“We’re here.” Mareal reined in her horse and slid from the saddle when they arrived at a small wattle and daub hut nestled amidst a copse of trees at the base of a mountain.
Andrew watched as she headed toward the croft, the gentle sway of her trew-clad hips causing his groin to stir. He cursed at his weakness and dismounted. Trained to stay focused on the task at hand, he seldom found himself so easily distracted. Something that could cause him nothing but trouble in the end. He dismounted quickly and followed her.
As Mareal reached the hut, the door swung open before she could knock.
“Och, Lady Mareal, I am so glad you are here,” a man proclaimed. “My wife has been in horrible pain since afore dawn and I think the babe is coming.” He stepped aside allowing Mareal to pass. “I dinna know what to do, but was afraid to leave her alone while I came to fetch you.”
Mareal patted his forearm and smiled. “Dinna fash, Hamish. Babes have been coming into the world for a long time. You did the right thing by staying with your wife. I’ll see to her immediately.”
Hamish studied Andrew for a minute, then asked, “Who might you be?”
“Andrew Fraser,” he replied simply. In her hurry to see to her patient, Mareal didn’t bother to introduce him to Hamish. “I am Lady Mareal’s escort for the day.”
M
areal hurried to the bedside and spoke to the woman who lay there writhing and moaning. “Your husband tells me the pains started early this morn, Hellen. How far apart are they?”
“Every few minutes,” Hellen rasped through gritted teeth.
“When did your birthing water break?”
Hellen sucked in a deep breath and peered up at Mareal through tear-filled eyes. “In the middle of the night. Soon after, the pain got worse.”
“That is quite normal,” Mareal replied. “It sounds like this wee lad or lassie is ready to meet their parents.” She moved to the foot of the bed and lifted the covers high enough to get a look. “Can you raise your knees, so I can see what is happening?”
“I will try, but it is na easy. It hurts so much,” Hellen cried out and began to thrash around in the bed again.
“You must stay calm and remember to breathe.” Mareal placed her hand on Hellen’s round belly and spoke in a soft soothing tone. “I know it hurts, and while it might na seem like it now, everything is going as it should. Afore you know it, you will be holding your babe and forget about the pain.”
Hellen bobbed her head, sucked in a gulp of air, and exhaled it slowly.
“Again,” Mareal prompted. “You are doing great, Hellen.”
Andrew cupped Hamish’s shoulder. “Is this your first?” He could only imagine the man’s concern for his wife, and after witnessing her pain, he couldn’t say he blamed him. While there was no shortage of babes at Fraser Castle, the women of the clan took charge, then presented the father with his wee one after it was born. Were the woman he loved going through this torture, he would likely be inconsolable.
“Aye.” With his eyes fixed on Mareal and his wife, Hamish slowly bobbed his head. “This is our first. However, if I’d known she would suffer like this, I would na have bedded her. She’s a frail lass, and if anything happens to Hellen, I willna forgive myself.”
“I’m sure she will be fine. She is in competent hands.” Andrew believed his claim and was impressed by the way Mareal examined the woman and at the same time managed to get her to relax.
Mareal lowered the covers and returned to the head of the bed. “That was a strong one. It willna be long now.” She glanced at Andrew. “Could you go to my horse and bring me the satchel tied to the saddle? It has the things I will need to assist the babe into the world.”
“Right away.” Andrew raced to where the horses grazed and retrieved the medical supplies. Upon reentering the croft, he noticed Hellen was once again thrashing about in bed, moaning.
Mareal sat on a stool beside her, holding her hand and lightly stroking Hellen’s brow with her other.
“I have the supplies.” Andrew held up the satchel as he approached the bed.
“Thank you.” Mareal retrieved a small dagger and slid it beneath the straw-filled mattress.
“Why did you do that?” Andrew scratched his head, puzzled by her actions.
“They say a dagger under the mattress helps to cut the pain.” She then glanced past Andrew at Hamish—who was now pacing back and forth. “While we ladies see to this wee one’s arrival, mayhap you could take Hamish outside and have him show you around. They oft say if the father circles the outer perimeter of the croft while his wife is giving birth, it also helps to ease the woman’s discomfort.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It also keeps the man busy and out of the way. This is no place for men, and I am sure he could use the distraction. Things will get much more intense before the babe finally arrives.”
“I will see what I can do,” Andrew said. “Is there anything else you need right now?”
“Nay, but after the babe is born, I will need some clean sheets for the bed. She gestured to a small blood stain.
Suddenly feeling queasy, Andrew’s knees buckled, and he gripped the bedpost for support. Mareal did not have to say any more to convince him to keep Hamish occupied, outside. He’d seen men on a battlefield with missing limbs, beheaded bodies, and warriors gutted by their foe, but watching a woman giving birth was a totally new experience.
Mareal peered up at him grinning. “Are you ill, Andrew? You look a tad green around the gills.”
“I am fine.” Andrew returned to where Hamish stood, then steered the man toward the door. “Mareal is right. This is na the place for men and we will serve them better if we are na underfoot.”
As they exited the croft, Andrew paused and sucked in a breath of fresh air, and then another. As his head began to clear and his stomach settled, he glanced at Hamish. “You have a nice piece of land. Would you like to show me around?”
“I dinna think we should wander too far from the croft. What if Hellen needs me?” Hamish wrung his hands and glanced over his shoulder at the hut. “Mayhap we should go back inside.”
Andrew looped his arm around Hamish’s shoulder and ushered him away from the croft. “When I was a lad, I remember the laird saying your da bred some of the finest destriers in Scotland, do you raise them as well?”
“I am na as good at judging horses as my da, but do have a couple of fine mares I am proud of.” He puffed out his chest and pointed at the stable. “Would you like to see them?”
“Lead the way.” Andrew followed Hamish, hoping that showing off his prize mares might take his mind off Hellen. When they exited the stable, the shrill sound of a babe crying caught their attention.
Hamish bolted toward the croft, arriving as Mareal opened the door. “I heard a babe. Is Hellen—”
“Hellen is just fine, and you have a braw wee son.” She stepped aside and waved him onward. “Go say hello.”
Hamish dashed by her and into the croft as Mareal moved into the sunlight and raised her face toward the sky.
“You have had a busy day so far.” Andrew strolled toward her, smiling. “I am glad everything went well, and both the lass and babe are fine.”
“Aye, so am I.” She swept back a stray strand of hair from her brow that flopped back as soon as she lowered her hand. “I must admit I was concerned. Hellen is a wee thing and the babe was coming feet first. But I managed to turn him about, and he came along fine.”
“I was impressed with how you took charge and handled things in there,” Andrew admitted. “Hellen is lucky you came when you did. Hamish was so beside himself with worry, he would na have been able to do what was needed, and the lass and babe might have died.”
“Well they are both fine. I will give them a few minutes alone, then go in and gather my supplies so we can be on our way. I have one more visit to make and still need to pick the herbs for Donella before we can return to the castle.”
Strong, confident, and a skilled healer, Andrew thought as she disappeared into the croft to gather her belongings. All of which were traits he would find desirable in a wife. He gave his head a rough shake, then spun on his heel and walked toward their mounts. She would be a bride soon, the Almighty willing. Just not his.
Chapter Six
Their travels soon brought them to another modest croft on the outskirts of her father’s holdings. Andrew glanced up at the partially repaired thatched roof, then at a broken section of fence beside the hut. “I take it this is the home of Tiran McCabe?”
“Aye.” Mareal slid from the saddle.
Before he could dismount, the door opened and a short, stout, red-haired woman with four unruly bairns tugging at her skirt, and fighting for her attention, stepped outside. “I am so glad to see you Lady Mareal. I was beginning to fear you might na come.”
Andrew guessed the bairns were all under the age of six summers, and by the looks of things, the woman had another babe on the way. With her husband laid up, and given her disheveled appearance, he figured she must have her hands full.
“I am sorry to be so late, Sorcha, but Hellen MacKay just had her babe and we came as soon as we could,” Mareal said. “She and Hamish have a fine son.”
“Och, I hope Helen is well. I remember how frightened I was when my first wee one was born.” Sorcha clucked her tongue. “I s
wore it would be my first and my last. But Tiran had other plans.” She gestured toward her bairns, then slid her hand over her swollen belly. “Hopefully, this will be the last.”
Mareal chuckled to herself as she gathered up her healing supplies before going to the door. “How is Tiran?”
“Tiran is fine, it is me who needs tending.” Sorcha released a heavy sigh. “Since his fall, there isna much he can do except sit there and complain. He has me fetching for him night and day.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Mareal. “You know how men can be when they are ill? The last thing I needed was another bairn to tend to. I am near spent.”
Mareal peeked over her shoulder at Andrew, then back at Sorcha. “I can only imagine.”
“Who might you be?” Sorcha raised a brow, then raked her gaze over Andrew.
“Andrew Fraser at your service, m’lady,” he replied and bowed. “I am here visiting Laird MacCurtry, and Lady Mareal graciously agreed to let me be her escort today.” He wiggled a brow and grinned at Mareal, which gained him an irate glower in return. “I fostered with Clan MacCurtry when I was a lad and knew your husband.”
Sorcha rested her hand on Mareal’s forearm. “How is your da?”
“Not well, I am afraid. Donella is doing what she can for him, but I fear it might na be enough. All we can do is hope and pray.” Mareal lowered her chin and closed her eyes.
“The laird is in our thoughts and prayers as well.” Sorcha stepped aside, allowing them to pass. “Come in. Tiran is resting by the fire.”
Sorcha’s husband sat on a chair beside the hearth with his left leg propped up on a stool. He narrowed his gaze in the dimly lit room as they approached, then tried to stand. “Saint’s teeth, is that you Andrew? It must be eight summers since you returned to your clan. What brings you here?”
