My Highlander: A Cree & Dawn Novel, page 10
He closed his arms around her, hugging her tight, and he was pleased that her arms returned the hug with a strength that proved she was growing stronger.
He gave her lips a quick kiss. “You are up early, wife.”
Dawn’s smile remained strong as she nodded and patted her chest.
“You are feeling good.”
She nodded again, pleased that the aches that had haunted her every day were barely noticeable today. She truly was healing.
As if the heavens agreed, the clouds parted and the sun suddenly appeared.
“A walk through the village before the morning fare?’ he asked and took hold of her hand, clasping it tight, leaving no room for her to refuse.
Dawn locked her hand around his just as tight, so as not to let him get away from her. This was something they had done often, just the two of them, and other times with the twins. It had been something she thought and dreamed about, while away, something that she held on to, told herself she would do once again with her husband, feel his strong hand wrapped around hers, holding tight, never wanting to let her go.
She smiled at her husband, pleased this time it was not a dream.
“I do not think I will ever be able to stop telling you how much I missed you,” Cree said as they walked.
Dawn patted her chest and touched his arm, so he would know she felt the same.
The village had come to life with morning chores and many greeted the lord and his lady with smiles and well wishes.
“You have brought life back to the clan. I was a miserable bastard without you,” Cree said.
Dawn scowled, tapped her lips, then pointed to him and shook her head.
He gave a chuckle. “You admonish my tongue, but bastard is the only word that suits my horrid nature in your absence.”
Sadness filled her heart, thinking of what he had been through, thinking her dead. At least, she had known that he was alive and that somehow, someway she would return to him, but he had thought her gone forever. Her heart ached at the terrible thought.
“Worry not, she will be released tomorrow morning,” Cree said.
Dawn looked to see Ann in the stock and realized he thought her sadness was for Ann. And while she was sad for the woman’s plight, Cree had been right. If Ann had spoken up about the stranger in the woods, the secret Lara had kept, could have prevented the whole ordeal and saved Lara from dying.
If Ann had spoken up. If the secret had been revealed.
Was she not presently doing the same? Keeping a secret? Not speaking up?
She had to tell Cree. He had to know what happened before someone else told him.
Dawn realized they had stopped walking and when she looked to see why, she took a step closer to her husband.
A large man, thick with muscle, though not heavy in body was drawing the attention of many. He had long dark hair and his mouth seemed to disappear into a bushy beard that covered his lower face. A sword was strapped to his broad back and a knife handle protruded from his one boot. His plaid was dark green with what appeared to be lines of faded yellow running throughout. He walked with a slow, cautious gait, his eyes alert to his surroundings. But what caught the eye the most was the iron shackle attached to his one wrist.
“Go in the keep and wait for me,” Cree ordered, not taking his eyes off the stranger as he let go of his wife’s hand.
Dawn tapped her husband’s arm twice after wrapping her arm around it.
Cree turned a scowl on her. “No?”
Dawn nodded.
“Dawn,” he warned with a low growl.
She smiled and kept hold of his arm.
Sloan seemed to appear from nowhere, approaching the man. They exchanged a few words and the large man nodded and turned and made his way through the village again.
“What brings him here?” Cree asked as Sloan neared them.
“He is passing through and needs shelter for a night or two and some food if we can spare it,” Sloan explained.
“Why does he wear a shackle?” Cree asked.
“He did not say and I did not ask.”
“His name?”
“He did not offer and I did not ask,” Sloan said.
“Give him what he needs and keep an extra watch on him, and see he does not stay more than two nights,” Cree ordered.
Sloan nodded and took his leave.
“My stomach tells me it is time to eat,” Cree said, hungry himself but wanting his wife to eat, her body still not having recovered the weight she had lost.
Dawn smiled at her husband’s attempt to get her to eat, though it was not necessary. She found herself famished and was eager for the morning meal.
The twins joined them in the Great Hall and it was a lovely family meal with smiles and laughter, and Lizbeth sneaking Beast food. Dawn and Cree both saw, but said nothing, letting her enjoy her little secret.
Secret.
It kept coming back to secrets, reminders of what she needed to do, but finding her courage waning every time she thought of it. She could not say that there had not been times it had been easy to tell her husband something, that she had been with child had been one of them, since they had not been wed at the time. Time and circumstance changed much, but then so had this abduction. She would find the right moment and be done with it and leave it to fate to sought out.
After the morning meal, Cree and Dawn walked through the village with the twins. Lizbeth hung on to Beast the whole time and Valan charged ahead with his wooden sword as if in battle.
Dawn could not have been more content and because she was she grew anxious. It seemed when moments were the happiest, something dreadful always happened. She did not want to think that way, but it had been the way of things and she could not deny it.
Ina and Nell joined them, time for the twins’ nap, and though the two protested, several yawns suggested it was necessary.
“You need a nap as well,” Cree said, having seen Dawn yawn almost as much as the twins. “Go rest, I need to see my warriors off on a mission.”
She was about to agree, feeling more tired than she would have liked when the bell in the village tolled, announcing the approach of a troop.
Cree’s first thought was to see his wife safely in the keep, but one look at her and he could see that she was not going anywhere. She would stay by his side, but then she belonged there.
He walked her to the steps of the keep to wait and whispered, “Hold your tongue, wife, I will handle this.”
She chuckled silently and shook her head at him as he smiled at her. She always found it funny when he told her to be silent, and she also found it heartwarming that he treated her as if she had a voice all could hear.
Sloan suddenly rushed through the village to stand in front of Cree, trying to ease his breathing so he could speak. “Macardle.”
Cree stared at him a moment. “Are you saying a troop from the Clan Macardle approach?”
Sloan nodded, his breathing having yet to calm.
“Tannin has not left yet with Evin, has he?”
Sloan shook his head.
“Good, keep them here until we see what Macardle has to say,” Cree said and watched as three men approached on horses. “How many in the troop?”
“About twenty wait outside the village.”
“See that they remain there,” Cree ordered and he kept his eyes on the approaching men while he spoke to his wife. “There is nothing for you here. Go and rest.”
Dawn shook her head and moved closer to his side.
Cree wondered over her insistence. There was nothing here that concerned her so why was she so adamant about staying?
The three men dismounted once near the steps of the keep, two remaining by their horses and one approaching Cree. He was of fair height, with dark hair and dark eyes, and good features except for the crook in his nose. He was lanky, though had muscles and he carried himself with confidence.
“Lord Cree, I am James and I have come on behest of Angus of the Clan Macardle,” he announced.
“What does Angus Macardle want of me?”
“He wants you to know that the Clan MacLoon lies to you.”
“It is you who lies,” Evin called out as he ran toward them.
“Silence!” Cree said, his shout carrying with strength over the crowd that had begun to form. “You both will join me in the keep to discuss this.”
Keeping their distance, the two men glared at each other, but bowed to Cree’s command.
Cree walked arm and arm with his wife a distance ahead of the two men. He kept his voice low as he said, “You will—”
Dawn squeezed his arm, interrupting him and pointed to an upper window in the keep.
“You are going to our bedchamber,” Cree said pleased that she would take her leave of her own accord. He did value her opinion, having received invaluable insights from her on many occasions. But he preferred that she rest.
As Dawn went to let go of his arm after they entered the keep, he kept firm hold of it for a moment.
“We will talk later.” Cree released her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before he let go and as he continued walking through the Great Hall, he called out, “Flanna, drinks in my solar.”
As usual Flanna appeared from the shadows, gave a nod, and the shadows swallowed her up once more.
Cree took a stance in front of the cold hearth and pointed to the two empty chairs after the two men and Sloan entered the solar.
The two sat, though James protested before taking a seat.
“This is not a matter to be discussed with a messenger.”
“I came in the name of Chieftain Walsh MacLoon,” Evin said, his young head held up high.
“Whether it is a matter to be discussed is for me to decide,” Cree said, settling it. His hand went up when James attempted to continue his protest. “Question my decision and you will be escorted off my land.”
James clamped his mouth shut, appearing to fight hard to keep it that way.
Flanna entered then with a servant who placed a pitcher and four tankards on the table between James and Evin. The lass filled all the tankards, picked up two and handed one to Cree with a bob of her head and gave the other to Sloan before serving the other two men, then took her leave along with Flanna.
“Tell me why you believe a parcel of MacLoon land belongs to the Clan Macardle,” Cree said with a nod to James.
“A parcel, for now, it is all of MacLoon land we will claim shortly,” James said and continued before any protests could be made. “The Clan MacLoon does not own that land.” James turned to sneer at Evin. “And he knows it. The land was gifted to Angus MacLoon by the Lord of Fire on the day the Clan MacFiere was no more.”
“The Lord of Fire will return home,” Evin argued.
“It has been almost six or seven years since the Lord of Fire deserted the keep. And with the agreement the Clan Macardle had with the Clan MacFiere, that if there came a time the Clan MacFiere was no more, then the Clan Macardle would take ownership of the land and all its holdings. The same applied the opposite. If the Clan Macardle ceased to exist, then its land and holdings would revert to the Clan MacFiere. I believe the agreement was made by both previous clan chieftains to make certain that one of them would keep rule over the area. From my understanding, the last MacFiere is near death. When that happens, MacFiere land and all its holdings revert to the Clan Macardle.”
“The last MacFiere has yet to die,” Evin said.
“Twilla is old, ill, and feeble, she has little time left,” James argued.
“Is that a threat?” Evin challenged.
“It is fact and it is of no difference to me at the moment. It is the parcel of land that is to revert back to the Macardle once the keep is no longer occupied by a MacFiere that concerns me now.”
Evin tossed his chin up in defiance. “The keep is occupied.”
That had James turning a startled look on Evin.
“Twilla occupies the keep,” Evin said proudly.
“You let an old, ill woman live there alone?” James asked, shaking his head.
Cree did not care for Evin’s smile, it boded trouble, and at that moment he wished he could ring the of Lord of Fire’s neck for leaving him with this mess.
“Someone visits her often and tends her,” Evin said. “Someone you know well.”
James’ brow narrowed in question.
“Sorrell,” Evin said with a bigger grin.
James shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Sorrell,” Cree repeated, the name sounding familiar. “Is she one of Angus’s three daughters?”
“The middle one,” James admitted reluctantly. “Though her strong opinions and endless chatter will probably do the old woman in before any illness or age can get her.”
Cree had to keep himself from laughing.
“She is a good woman,” Evin said in defense of Sorrell.
“You are too young and inexperienced to have any idea what makes a good woman,” James reprimanded. “Do you not see, Lord Cree, that he is just a lad who knows nothing?”
Cree held his hand up when Evin went to protest. “Evin is here on his chieftain’s behest and will report back all that was said and happened here. So while he may be young, he has ears to hear with and eyes to see things for himself, and his chieftain must have confidence in him to have sent him on such an important mission.”
“What news will he take back with him?” James asked.
“Evin will return home with a troop of my men, led by Tannin, a warrior of mine who has proven his worth and skill. Tannin will talk with Chieftain Walsh of the Clan MacLoon and also speak with Chieftain Angus of the Clan Macardle and report back to me. Only then will I decide what is to be done.”
James got to his feet. “You have no right in making any such decision. It has already been made by previous chieftains of both clans.”
Cree took a quick step toward James, so quick that James startled and fell back, plopping down in the chair.
“The Clan MacLoon is under my protection, so until I can determine what you say is true, I suggest you do as I say. Or you will find an army of my warriors descending on the Clan Macardle,” Cree said and was startled himself, though did not show it, when a loud bark sounded at the door.
Sloan swung the door open as Cree rushed to it, his stomach clenching, worried that something had happened to Dawn.
“Da,” Lizbeth said, standing beside Beast, her small hand gripping a bunch of Beast’s thick fur at the back of his neck as if she had used him to guide her there, and a huge smile on her pretty face.
Cree reached down and scooped her up in his arm and before he could say a word, she planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek, and, of course, his heart melted.
“Love you,” Lizbeth said.
“I love you too,” Cree said and kissed her cheek. “Did you come here alone?”
She shook her head and her smile grew as she pointed to Beast.
“Beast brought you here?” Cree asked.
She nodded and tapped his chest.
Cree had noticed how Lizbeth often used her mum’s gestures, sometimes along with words and sometimes not, to speak with him and others.
“Did you ask Beast to bring you to me?”
She nodded again.
“Lizbeth! Lizbeth! Where are you?”
Cree heard the frantic shouts echo down the corridor.
Lizbeth giggled and buried her face against her da’s chest as if trying to hide.
Nell turned the corner and her body sagged in relief and her eyes turned wide in fright, seeing Lizbeth tucked in her da’s powerful arm.
Nell bobbed her head as she approached. “I am sorry, my lord, I do not know how she got away from us.”
“Or down that long flight of steps?” Cree asked, his tone letting Nell know he was not pleased.
Lizbeth raised her head. “Beast helped me.”
Cree looked to Nell.
Nell trembled as she spoke. “She sweet talks the dog, my lord, and he does anything for her.”
Cree glared down at Beast and the large animal turned his head away as if not wanting his guilt to show.
“Where is my wife?” Cree asked.
“Lady Dawn grew tired and went to rest,” Nell said.
“Go with Nell, Lizbeth, and stay with her until I come to speak with you,” Cree said and handed his daughter to Nell, glad to hear his wife was resting.
Lizbeth threw him a kiss as Nell turned to hurry off with the little lass.
“You stay with me, Beast,” Cree ordered as the animal went to follow Nell.
Beast gave a growl as he entered the room and James and Evin jumped out of their chairs.
“Sit!” Cree snapped sharply and the two men sat instead of the dog.
Sloan turned his head away not able to hide his laugh.
James stood when he realized his mistake and mortified at his quick obedience to Cree’s command for the animal said, “Much luck with your daughter, you will need it. She has a mind of her own just like Sorrell.”
Chapter 11
“Lizbeth has to learn she cannot go off with Beast on her own,” Cree said, his arm around his wife and her head resting on his shoulder as they sat braced against a tree trunk watching Lizbeth and Valan running around in play.
Dawn glanced over where Beast lay, looking as if he rested, but he was not fooling her. She saw the way his eyes remained focused on the twins. He had taken to the pair, though mostly Lizbeth, but then she had taken to Beast as if they had been long lost friends.
Dawn nodded, agreeing with her husband.
“She could have fallen down the stairs and seriously hurt herself or worse,” Cree said the idea of a senseless and avoidable accident claiming her life an unbearable thought. “She is as stubborn as her mum.”
Dawn turned a grin on her husband and patted his chest.
“I am leader of this clan, I need to be stubborn… and obeyed,” he said, tapping the tip of her nose playfully.
