Highlander Undone (Highland Bound Book 5) (14 page)

Shona closed her eyes. There was no predicting what would happen once her husband ducked under the threshold of the tavern. There was no guessing at whether those within would help, or harm.

“Be safe,” she whispered, and, “I love ye,” because there was nothing else she could say. Nothing else she wanted him to think about when he was walking into a potential trap.

“I will,
mo chridhe
.” And then he kissed her, pressing his lips to hers with such passion, such fervor that she felt it all the way to her toes. “I love ye so much,” he murmured, never taking his mouth from hers.

She hated what this heated kiss represented. A possible goodbye, for she knew that was what it was. His tongue swept over hers in arcs and she worked to memorize every line of his body with her hands as though she hadn’t already.

Flames of desire, of need, of desperation engulfed her.

“Ye’d better come back to me.”

“I will fight until the end to be at your side.”

The drunken outlaws who had attacked them before were no match, no threat even, and they were nothing compared to what she’d seen. What she herself had done in the past. She’d killed a man who endangered her life and Ewan’s, leaving her husband for dead. But she’d healed many more. She had a place here, a purpose, unlike back in present day where she felt like she aimlessly walked the streets searching for the meaning of life. Her only solace had been the company of her sister, the mixing of herbs in their spice shop. Even back then—or before? How did one differentiate?—she had a gift for herbs and healing, and many loyal customers. They likely missed her, but there were others, there were hospitals. Not here. The doctors were just as likely to kill a person in the 1500’s than providing succor. Here,
she
could really help.

There was no doubt where she wanted to be. And thank goodness her sister was now with her, too.

But Ewan… He was her whole life! Without him, even the mixing of her herbs would hold no appeal. She’d not be able to save anyone if she couldn’t save herself, and if something happened to him—well, then she’d be lost, devastated, life would cease to exist.

Shona clung to him. They’d not been married long. About a year, and yet so much had happened.

The MacDonalds still lay low, an occasional raid to keep the Grants on their toes. Emma had admitted that she was a time-traveler, had told Shona all about her and Logan’s love. So deep and intense. The same as what she felt for Ewan.

She could have stayed here, hiding behind a thick oak, kissing her husband, until the end of time, but she knew they couldn’t. With one last, long, deep kiss, she pulled regrettably away from him.

“Go now, before I tie ye to this tree.” The words hurt coming out. How could she tell him to leave her? To willingly walk into danger.

“How about I tie ye to the tree when I come back?” he murmured against her ear. “I’ll pleasure ye for hours and ye’ll not be able to escape my touch.”

“I will hold ye to that promise.”

Ewan’s smile was wicked and filled his face. Even his eyes twinkled. “I knew I married the perfect lass, but each day that passes shows me even more just how right I was.”

“And ye’d best remember it walking into Hildie’s Tavern…”

Ewan chuckled, tweaking her chin. “Jealous?” But before she could answer, he swooped down and kissed her hard once more. “Ye’re the only woman I want. I love ye.”

“I love ye, too. Now go.”

Ewan nodded curtly, taking her hand and leading her back to her sister and Rory. They stopped short when they happened upon the other two in an embrace. Shona had known Rory for years, and before he’d disappeared, he’d not once entertained a woman. Now she knew why. All the time that had passed seemed not to have lessened Moira’s and his affection for one another.

Ewan purposefully stepped on a fallen stick, snapping it to pull the two of them from their embrace, but that didn’t work. They’d not even seemed to hear it. Their passion clouded all their senses it would seem, or else they were ignoring them.

Ewan cleared his throat.

That didn’t work either.

“Saints, but they must be really into it,” Ewan muttered.

“There’s been several times the two of us have felt the same.” She leaned against him.

“Aye, but we’ve work to do.”

“Truth.” Shona cleared her throat and then sang out softly, “Moira.”

That seemed to get their attention. They finally broke apart, her sister’s face completely flushed.

“I’m going in.” Ewan kept his gaze on Rory. “If I’m not back in five minutes, take the women to safety.”

“My cottage.”

“Aye. If for some reason I am waylaid, I will meet ye there.”

Rory nodded.

Shona couldn’t let go of Ewan’s hand. “Be careful,” she said.

“I always am.”

And then his hand was slipping from hers and he was walking with confident strides toward the front door of the tavern. Without saying anything, Moira came to stand beside Shona, her hand slipping against her sister’s, silent comfort.

From their place in the woods, they were hidden from sight of anyone inside the tavern who peered out a window, but they had a good view of the front door of the building. Ewan reached a hand to knock when the door was flung wide. A long, slender arm stretched out, grabbed onto his and tugged him inside, quickly slamming the door shut. On instinct, Shona lurched forward, ready to go investigate where exactly her husband had just gone and with whom, but Moira held her back.

“No,” Moira whispered.

“The countdown begins,” Rory mumbled.

The minutes ticked by like an eternity. None of them spoke. The air vibrated from their nerves. What was taking so long? Was that Hildie’s arm? Was Ewan safe?

“What are ye doing here?” Hildie hissed.

Ewan didn’t know whether to be relieved that Hildie looked exactly the same, or worried at her panicked tone and shifty eyes. She tugged him to the left of the door into a private dining room and away from the main barroom, shutting the door behind her.

“I need your help,” he said. “What’s happened?”

“Everyone knows ye’ve gone missing and Logan has declared war on the MacDonalds—who by the way seem to think your wife is something pretty special, or that she knows something that could help MacDonald’s cause.”

Ewan prayed it had something to do with Rory, or even Shona’s skill, and nothing to do with her bloodline.

“I need to ask ye an odd question.”

“Honey, nothing could phase me in this place. Ye wouldn’t believe the things I’ve heard.”

“How long have I been missing?”

“We need to get ye out of here. Ye’ve been missing for going on two months.”

Ewan glanced around the room, taking in the familiar setting. A small round table with several chairs. A stained tablecloth. Candles. Jugs of wine and whisky on the sideboard. “Why do ye need to get me out of here?”

Hildie looked behind her at the closed door, and held her finger to her lips. Ewan strained to hear what she heard, but other than the commotion from the men drinking beyond, the creaking of the floorboards above his head, and the occasional moan, nothing seemed to out of the ordinary.

“MacDonalds,” she whispered. “In the other room.”

Rage filled Ewan instantly. “How many?”

“Six perhaps. They came to whet their whistles, dip their wicks.”

“And?” Ewan raised a brow.

“They’ve been talking a lot of nonsense, but enough to scare me and my lassies.” She looked back at him, fear in her eyes. “Ye need to go. And ye need to go to Castle Gealach.”

It was only then she seemed to notice what he was wearing.

“It’s worse than I thought,” she murmured.

Ewan didn’t ask, because he had no doubt with the number of people Hildie saw in a given month, he was probably not the only one dressed oddly.

“Have ye got any spare clothes? ’Haps enough for two men, and maybe even a couple gowns?”

Hildie put her hands on her hips, her eyes lowering to slits as she tried to figure him out. “Getting greedy are ye?”

“Ye know I’m good for it. I’ll bring ye the coin, double the coin. And I need provisions. A couple horses if ye have them.”

Hildie stared at him hard, nothing getting passed her. “Who do ye have outside? Is it your wife? Ye need to get her to safety. The MacDonalds want her.”

“More than her.”

“Dear lord.” Hildie crossed herself, a motion he’d never seen her do and never in all his days would have guessed she would. “Ye’re going to owe me. If they find out I helped ye, they’ll skin me alive and rape my dead body.”

“I will give ye whatever ye want.”

“No ye willna, because what I want, is tucked inside that awful getup ye’re wearing.” She pointed at his cock.

Ewan grinned. The same old Hildie. “Would ye settle for coin? I’d have to bring it back to ye from Gealach.”

She nodded and winked. “A lot of it.”

Hope surged. “Then ye’ll help us?”

She jerked her head in a semblance of nod. “Ye’re my favorite, always have been. Besides, I hate the MacDonalds with a passion. Wish every one of them would burn in a fiery, painful death. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the back of the room toward a servant’s entrance.

They walked through a storage room with several accesses, taking the door on the far left. It opened to the outside.

“Ye know where the stable is. If some of the horses go missing, what do I know about it? I’ll gather some things over the next quarter hour and put them outside this door. I’ll hold up a finger to let ye know how many more bags I’ve need to put out. When I make a zero, ye’ll be coming to get the stock.” Hildie continued to check her surroundings as she spoke and Ewan had the distinct impression this was not the first time she’d had to help someone escape. “I’ve got to make certain I’m not missed by the men in the other room, and I’ll have my lassies keep them plenty busy. Lay low in the woods. Good luck. I dinna want to hear about your head on a spike. Nor that of the lass that claimed your heart. Ye’re a good man, Ewan. If I was the type of woman who could love, I would have loved ye well.”

Ewan grinned, leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Ye did love me well, Hildie. I thank ye.”

Hildie’s eyes, for the briefest of moments, sparkled with unshed tears. “Go, ye sorry arse, afore I change my mind and force ye to give me the payment I truly want.”

Ewan kissed her cheek once more, mumbled his thanks and then sprinted toward the woods. He cut his way back toward where he’d left his party, finding a rusty sword at his throat the moment they came into view.

“Good to see ye’re on your game,” he said to Rory, a tense smile on his face. “Try not to slice my head from my shoulders.”

Rory quickly took the blade away. “Apologies. Heard someone sneaking up on us.”

“We need to move quickly. The tavern is full of MacDonalds. Lucky for us, it’s only a couple months past when we left.”

“Thank god,” Shona murmured.

“Nay. ’Tis not good at all. But let’s get around the back first. We have to stay quiet.”

The four of them stuck to the edge of the woods, just beyond the trees and out of sight, until they were close to the back of the tavern. Hildie opened the door and dropped a satchel. She held up two fingers, looking towards the woods but not seeing them, then shut the door.

“She’ll be dropping more,” Ewan whispered.

“Is that Hildie?” Shona asked.

“Aye. Since we’ve been gone, Logan declared war on the MacDonalds. He thinks we were taken by them, and the MacDonalds are plenty happy to wage war, but they want something else.”

“What?” Rory asked.

“They’re looking for Shona.”

“Me?”

“Aye, love.”

“Why would they possibly want me?”

“There wasn’t enough time to ask, and I’m not certain she was privy to it. They cannot know of your relation to the Bruce, so it must be your healing powers they seek. Or maybe any information ye hold on Rory.” Though he spoke the words with confidence, Ewan was not at all confident in what he said. MacDonald had been able to ferret out the secrets of Gealach before, what’s to say he didn’t know about more of the country’s deeply hidden secrets?

“Well, if I am one of those princesses, I’d be long dead,” Shona said.

“Aye.” Ewan didn’t want to point out that they were not the only time-travelers. Nor did he want to point out that if she weren’t one of those princesses, she and Moira could still be descendants, which would put them in line for the throne.

“He’ll not be getting his hands on ye, love,” Ewan said. “Ye needn’t worry over it.”

The back door opened and Hildie dropped another satchel, holding up one finger, then she disappeared.

“Why is she willing to help if the enemy is within her building?” Rory asked. “Are ye certain she’s not buying them time to come and find us?”

Ewan shook his head. “She hates the MacDonalds. They rarely pay their bar tabs and stiff her lassies all the time, leave many of them with bruises which puts them off the bargaining table for the next customer.”

“Makes sense then.”

Shona looked at Ewan with raised brows, waiting for him to expand his answer, but Ewan just shrugged, and flashed her a rueful smile.