Desired by a Highlander (Macardle Sisters of Courage Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  “You will stay behind me, say nothing, and do nothing that will put you in danger, and on this you will obey me, wife.”

  She barely had time to nod when he continued.

  He lowered his head and his voice to a whisper. “There are three of them. I will see to them and again you will hold your tongue and do nothing.”

  “Is she yours or can we share?” a man called out.

  Willow held herself with courage, but took a step closer to her husband when she saw the size of the one man who walked in front of the other two who approached. He was big, not in height, but in girth, barrel chest and arms that looked as if he could easily crush a man. The other two were slim compared to him, though all three seemed to wear similar grime on their garments and skin.

  “I warn you now. Take your leave or suffer the consequences,” Slatter said with that cock-sure confidence of his.

  The three men laughed.

  “Three of us and one of you.” The big man laughed. “I don’t think it’ll be us suffering the consequences. But don’t worry, we’ll let you watch as we enjoy the woman before we kill you.”

  Willow shivered against her husband as the three laughed heartily.

  His arm tightened around her as he whispered, “Trust me, I won’t let them hurt you.”

  She recalled the last time he had told her to trust him and he had kept his word, while it didn’t seem possible he could keep his word this time, something inside her told her he would.

  “I trust you,” she murmured and watched as the large man rushed at them.

  Chapter 10

  One minute Slatter was beside her and the next he was gone. Willow stood frozen barely able to comprehend what was happening. She hadn’t even seen her husband reach for his dagger in a sheath tucked somewhere she hadn’t noticed at his waist. She only saw the hilt protruding from the one man’s throat, his eyes wide as he dropped to the ground dead. Slatter’s arm hooked the big man around the neck as he grabbed the fellow’s dagger sheathed at his waist and flung it, lodging it in the other slim man’s throat. His eyes turned wide and his hands rushed to his neck but never reached it. He toppled over dead.

  “Your time has come,” Slatter said.

  Willow thought it odd that the man’s eyes bulged from his head as if at that precise moment he somehow recognized Slatter.

  “Mercy, Sla—”

  Willow stared in disbelief as Slatter snapped the big man’s neck with ease and let him drop to the ground. She continued to stare at him as he went and retrieved his dagger from the one man’s throat and wiped it clean of the blood on the man’s garment before wiping it clean again on the grass. He retrieved the other dagger as well, cleaning the blade in the same fashion.

  Willow was speechless when he stopped in front of her.

  He reached his hand out, his arm resting against her chest as his hand closed gently at her throat, his fingers stroking the side of her neck. His hand was warm, his touch tender, and she couldn’t believe that only moments before that same hand killed three men with ease.

  “I will never fail to protect you, leannan, not ever,” he said and kissed her, sealing his words as if they were a vow.

  Willow latched onto to his arm, accepting his pledge, accepting that he would always be there for her, and it calmed her pounding heart and laid her fears to rest.

  “Time to leave,” he said softly.

  He had her up on the horse and they were a distance away before she realized he had kept his body positioned so that the dead men were blocked from her view after the altercation had ended.

  “You are a skilled warrior,” she said, turning her glance on him.

  He was glad his words held some truth as he responded, “I owe that to my da. He taught me well.”

  She quieted briefly in thought before saying, “It appeared as if that the large man recognized you there at the end, your name almost slipping from his tongue. I wonder if he had mistaken you for the man you search for.” She shook her head. “But then he would have recognized you right away. So how would he know your name if he never met you? And why would he suddenly know your name.”

  “You probably heard him wrong,” Slatter said, offering a more reasonable explanation.

  “I suppose I could have, since everything happened so fast,” she agreed, though something told her not to dismiss it so easily.

  There had been such bravado in the large man until something happened to change it all. She recalled the instant shock had claimed his face, but it wasn’t only shock she had seen on it, there had been fear as well. What had caused him to suddenly fear Slatter?

  Your time has come.

  Slatter’s words. It was after that, that fear had gripped the large man, but why?

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Slatter said.

  His brow deepened with concern and Willow was touched that he should worry over her. “I am grateful to you for saving me from another horrible fate. That is twice now you have rescued me.” She chuckled softly. “I wish you had been there when I was smashed on the head and my sister abducted.”

  His body turned rigid, the muscles in his arms and chest feeling like solid rock against her.

  “Who did that to you?”

  His rough tone demanded a response and Willow quickly gave it.

  “Lord Ruddock saw that the person responsible would never bother anyone again.”

  Slatter said no more, though Willow got the impression that he wanted to. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and said nothing, though only for a moment.

  “I will never let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

  “I appreciate that you will keep me safe, at least until we part,” she said, needing to remind him they would not be together forever. Or was it she who needed reminding?

  “Ever, leannan, ever!” he said so empathically that Willow simply nodded.

  Evening found them camped by a stream. Slatter got a good fire going and they sat, shoulders pressed together, as they ate, the night air cold.

  “We stop tomorrow where more food will be available to us and we’ll be safe,” Slatter said and handed her what was left of the bread.

  Willow broke the piece in half and handed the other half to him. “I’m not that hungry.”

  He looked about to argue with her, but forced himself not to by taking a bite of the bread.

  Willow was more tired than anything. She wanted to sleep or perhaps it was that she wanted to escape into sleep if only for a while. The day’s troubling events had worn on her mind and body, and she needed to rest and refresh both. She always thought clearer, more reasonable, after a good night’s sleep.

  Her yawn confirmed how she felt.

  “You’re tired,” Slatter said, his arm going around her to find her slipping comfortably into the crook of his arm.

  “My body aches with fatigue,” she said on a sigh.

  “We’ll sleep and get an early start.”

  “When will we meet up with Devin and the others?” she asked, longing for the warmth of a cottage no matter how small it might be.

  “A day or two,” he said and went to move away from her.

  “No,” she cried out softly, “don’t leave me. I need your warmth.”

  He realized then how much of a toll the day had had on her. Willow was not only practical, she was brave. It wasn’t only the cold that trembled her tonight; it was that she had witnessed him kill three men. As much as she knew it had to be done to protect them both, it was not something that was easily forgotten.

  “I’m going to get some pine branches and fashion a pallet for us to sleep on, so the cold ground doesn’t seep into our bones,” he said.

  She used him to lean on as she slowly and with a few gentle moans began to get to her feet. “I’ll help.”

  Slatter helped her to her feet as he got to his. He’d argue with her that he didn’t need her help, but it would be pointless. It would go faster if he just let her have her way, since she would
anyway.

  They were done in no time and Slatter spread a blanket over the narrow pallet.

  “Keep your back to the fire and your chest pressed to mine and you should stay warm,” he said as he helped her down on the makeshift bed.

  She turned on her side, facing her back to the fire as he suggested, then stretched her hand out to him. “Hurry we need each other’s heat.”

  Slatter spread another blanket over her, then slipped beneath it, easing his cloak around her as he went to tug her close against him. He didn’t have to, she pressed herself so tightly against him that he thought she’d slip inside him. Her arm went around his waist and her one leg pushed its way between his two, not that he objected. They both needed the warmth to battle the cold. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, seeking a spot to keep her face warm.

  He worked his hand beneath her cloak to stroke along her back when she continued to shiver and silently cursed himself. He should have let Tarass’s warriors take her home where she’d be safe and kept warm. But no, he didn’t and why? When he had seen them take her, a fury had raged through him. He would return her home and no one else. After all, she was his wife.

  His wife.

  He had to stop thinking of her that way. Their marriage had been born out of necessity and it would end the same way. And he couldn’t let himself forget that.

  Willow lifted her head to look at him. “I’m so cold.”

  He acted out of instinct and brought his lips down on her trembling ones. It didn’t take long for him to chase the cold and quiver from her lips, though that didn’t stop him from continuing to kiss her. Why would he when she responded so eagerly?

  He had ached for this, ached to kiss her, hold her close, feel something other than the emptiness that consumed him. She tasted of sweetness, kindness, and something else, something he fought to deny, something he thought he’d never find… love.

  The thought poked at him. Lingering there, tormenting him… love. It wasn’t possible. At least not for him. Still though, she tasted so good, warm and inviting, and she pressed against him with a passion that couldn’t be ignored.

  She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He fought against the maddening passion and tore his lips away from hers with great difficulty.

  “I’ll take you here and now if we don’t stop,” he said with feral growl.

  Willow clamped her lips shut, sound reasoning rushing up to grab hold of her as she fought to control the response that had rushed to spew out.

  Take me; I’m yours.

  What was she thinking? This couldn’t be. It could never be. Could it?

  Until she could make sense of things, she’d have no answer and without an answer, without reasonable thought how could she trust herself to do anything?

  She spoke what she felt. “You sway me too easily.”

  Slatter rested his brow to hers. “That is not something you should say to me, mo ghaol.”

  Did her tired mind hear him correctly? Did he just call her my love?

  Be sensible, Willow, you’re tired and are hearing what you think you’d like to hear, she warned herself. Your marriage is a lie. Your husband is a liar. And most importantly, he doesn’t love you.

  “I’m tired,” she said as if it explained all.

  “Sleep,” he urged.

  Please sleep or else I’ll wind up sealing our vows, sealing us together for the rest of our lives.

  A thought that was more appealing than he ever would have imagined, but not at all possible.

  When her body went limp with sleep and her breathing turned light, he couldn’t have been more relieved. Of course, it didn’t help the ache in his groin or ease his thoughts of making love to her. He wanted his wife with a passion he had never known.

  He’d have his need of a woman. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched and when that itch struck, he’d go find a willing woman. This was different. It wasn’t an itch he had for Willow, it was a thirst he feared would never be quenched. He’d always want her and not only to make love to, but to hold, to kiss, to wrap himself around her and sleep more contentedly than he had in a long time.

  Mo ghaol.

  He had called her my love and he had meant it.

  He was in serious trouble.

  Willow woke beyond cold, shivering after rubbing at her eyes to make certain it was a light dusting of snow she saw that covered her and Slatter.

  She smiled when she heard him mutter several oaths.

  “We need to be on our way before this snow worsens,” Slatter said and got to his feet, reaching his hand down to help her up.

  Willow stood with a shiver and her husband was quick to wrap his arms around her. She felt tearful, though no tears sprang to her eyes. She loved the way he always took her in his arms without question. It was as if he knew what she needed from him and gave it to her without hesitation. She would miss that when they parted and the thought rushed a single tear to one eye.

  “We need to go,” he said, releasing her reluctantly. “This snow could worsen.”

  She nodded as she pretended to rub the sleep from her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tear that trickled down her cheek, then gathered the blankets as Slatter turned his attention to the fire that had died out hours ago. They were soon on the horse and on their way. The snow remained light, but after traveling about three hours, the snowflakes seemed to consume the sky as they fell rapidly over the land.

  After another hour, Slatter stopped and guided the horse beneath a tall tree. He didn’t dismount. He brushed what snow covered Willow off as he said, “It’s about another hour to our destination, though with the snow worsening it will probably take longer.”

  “Then we should not waste another minute,” she said, realizing he was letting her know the remainder of their journey would not be easy.

  “It is a warm cottage, good food, and a friendly face that will greet us,” he assured her.

  She smiled. “Then why do you wait? Let’s be on our way.”

  “Keep your cloak up around you and I will keep my cloak over you as well. And keep yourself snug against me for warmth.”

  “What of you?” she asked with concern.

  He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You will keep me warm.”

  Willow did just that. She kept herself cuddled tight against him and she periodically rubbed along his arms and back, encouraging warmth to his flesh, as they battled the snowstorm together.

  Slatter had been caught in many a snowstorm but never one as enjoyable as this one. His wife was intent on keeping him warm and she did, more ways than she realized. She had a caring touch, but it was her green eyes, bold with concern when she looked upon him as her fingers gently brushed the snow from his face that touched his heart the most.

  She truly cared for him and God help her, for in the end he would bring her pain.

  Snowfall made travel difficult. Heavy snow could make travel impossible. Visibility was poor, the path disappearing, markers as well. But he had learned how to combat the snow and so he preceded with confidence.

  It was almost two hours when he recognized the area and was relieved since they wouldn’t have been able to travel much farther.

  “Not long now,” he said, leaning down to let Willow know.

  Shortly after, he spotted the small cottage through the falling snow. He directed the horse to the enclosed shelter that once was home to a horse, but no more. Once close, he dismounted and helped his wife off the horse. He led the horse inside the shelter and saw to his care, smiling when his wife arranged one of their blankets over the horse.

  When done, he took her hand and led her to the cottage, eager to see the woman inside.

  Slatter opened the door, a smile on his face, ready to call out a greeting and stopped.

  The fire was nothing but embers and in the front of the hearth lay a woman with gray hair, the strands having fallen loose from her long braid. Slatter rushed to her and when he turned her ov
er gently, it was to see that blood soaked the front of her garment.

  Willow approached to see the woman’s eyes flutter open and see the worry on her face as she looked upon Slatter and struggled to speak.

  Slatter shook his head at her. “Don’t try and talk. I’m here now. All will be well.”

  From the look on the old woman’s face, Willow didn’t think she believed him.

  Slatter looked to Willow. “Please help her. She’s my grandmother.”

  Chapter 11

  “No, don’t move her yet,” Willow said, stopping her husband from lifting his grandmother in his arms as she hurried to his side.

  “The earth floor is cold and so is she,” Slatter argued and Willow laid her hand on his arm to prevent him from moving her.

  “If she still bleeds, she could lose more blood as you move her, which will not help her. If we stop the flow of blood before we move her it will serve her well. And while I see to that, you can get a fire going and get the room heated which will also benefit her.”

  Slatter was about to argue when he nodded. “Whatever you say, wife, you’re the healer.”

  “Her name?” Willow asked softly.

  “Sara,” Slatter said almost reverently.

  Willow gave his arm a gentle push and he moved and let her see to his grandmother as he got a fire going, though he kept a watchful eye on the two women that meant more to him than he would ever admit.

  “Sara,” Willow said, running a gentle hand across the older woman’s brow and worried over the slight warmth she felt there. “I’m Willow and I’m going to help you.”

  Sara’s eyes fluttered as she struggled to open them, but failed.

  Willow took her hand. “You can squeeze my hand to let me know you hear me.”

  She was relieved to feel a slight squeeze. “Your grandson is here. He’ll take your hand in a moment. He’s getting a fire going and you’ll soon be warm and in bed. But first I’m going to see to your wound.”

  Another light squeeze to her hand told Willow the woman understood, a good sign.