Kate Robbins - The Highland Chiefs Series 03

Two years ago Freya MacKay walked away from the only man she would ever love, her family’s bitter enemy, knowing her clan would never accept their love. A fragile alliance has been forged and now he has returned to warn of a terrible threat. Freya MacKay is torn between the familiar surge of passion he evokes and her promise to wed another man.

Ronan Sutherland has lost everything to a cruel uncle who will lay the entire north Highlands to waste if he is not stopped. There is only one who can help—but seeking alliance with his former enemy, Fergus MacKay, means encountering the woman who left him two years ago, breaking his heart.

A bitter feud keeps their clans at one another’s throats and it seems nothing will stop one from destroying the other. Will Ronan ever forgive Freya for leaving him? Can he trust her again? Or will the decades of hatred and deceit between their families prevail?

ENEMY OF THE HIGHLANDER

The Highland Chiefs Series, book three

Kate Robbins

Published by Tirgearr Publishing

Author Copyright 2014 Kate Robbins

Cover Art: The Killion Group

Editor: Amanda Stephanie

Proofreader: R.L. McCoy

MacKay Clan Crest brooch depicted on this cover is used with the kind permission of Gaelic Themes Ltd. Special thanks to Licensed to Kilt.

Photograph by Vanessa Noseworthy.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please log into the publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

DEDICATION

For Michelle O, who gets every word of this story, and helps make them count.

And to my street team: Nicole, Debbie, Kimi, Barb, Adriana, Ann, Fern, and Melba. You are all amazing and I am so lucky to have you. MWAH!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you once again to my beta readers for their fabulous insight, and especially their passion in helping me work out the wrinkles: Vicki, Vanessa, Nicole, Barb, Nancy B, Michelle O, Kellie, Kimi, Fern, Lesleyanne, and Karen E!

Thank you especially to Vicki and Michelle O for listening to my endless ramblings and questions.

Thanks to Kemberlee of Tirgearr Publishing for her guidance and encouragement, and for always finding the right thing to say to make me laugh.

Thank you again to Vanessa and Ian for their photographic expertise and patience!

And thank you to Lynnette and Tracy for their design fabulousness and their help on my cards and banner! You all rock!!

Thanks to the awesome writers in the RWAC loop and to my Scribe Wenches for your support. You’re always there to help and provide advice.

Thanks to my Guardian sisters, Ceci, Sue-Ellen, Suzan, Tarah, Lily, and Kathryn, for all your amazingness. You are the bomb, ladies!!!

Thanks to Dave, Nicholas, and Daniel for your incredible support on this crazy ride.

If I’ve missed anyone, please accept my sincerest apologies. I hope you all enjoy reading Enemy of the Highlander as much as I enjoyed writing it. This book marks the third and middle of the Highland Chiefs series. I had to consider all that had come before in the previous two books and all that will still happen in the next two. Can’t wait to dig in!

I hope I’ve captured the magic and mystique of the north of Scotland as it exists in my memories and dreams. Come away to the Highlands and see for yourself.

ENEMY OF THE HIGHLANDER

The Highland Chiefs Series, book three

Kate Robbins

Prologue

Strathnaver, Scotland

He had her this time, and her furrowed brow and deep frown proved it. Ronan Sutherland shuffled the pouches and set them in front of his younger sister, Muren. Though there was three years between them, she had bested him at this game many times. Today, he would prove he was superior.

“No fair, Ronan. You changed the strings on the pouches.”

“All is fair in games of chance, Muren. Do you know which contains the shell and which contains the stones?”

Her bottom lip quivered. She did not know. Somehow, that show of defeat in her quelled his victory. She was only four, after all. And he had changed the strings as she suspected, but as his father always said upon his rare visits, all is fair in times of war.

Muren reached her hand out and hovered it over the middle pouch. Ronan worked hard to keep from grinning. The shell was on her right. He watched and waited as she grappled with her decision. Her hand never wavered from above the centre pouch as she worked out the solution in her mind.

“I know which it is.”

“Do you? They why do you not choose?”

She looked up and met his gaze, grinning. And then to his surprise, moved her hand and laid it on the correct pouch. How did she know? Ronan shook his head. She must have some sort of magic in her, was all he could figure.

Just as he was about to challenge her again, the extra stones for their other games bounced on the floor. They both regarded the strange sight of the small pebbles hopping up and down.

The door to their chamber burst open just then, and their mother raced in. “Ronan, take your sister out the back way and go to the chapel. Now!”

“Mama, what is it?”

She pulled them both up by the armpits and pushed them toward the back door. “There is no time to explain. You must go to the chapel and tell Father Andrews I asked him to keep you safe. Go, Ronan, and do not make a sound.”

Ronan grabbed his sister’s hand and raced out of the cottage. He had taken his time walking down the steps so Muren would not fall. He also wanted to see what had scared his mother so. It scared him too, though he could not put a face to it, and made him squeeze his sister’s hand a little too tight. She yelped.

“Hush. Mama told us to be quiet.”

“You are hurting me, Ronan.”

He eased up on her hand as they found the path to the chapel. Once through some low-lying brush and away from the cottage, he dared to look back. He wished he had not.

Dozens of giant horses, with the largest men Ronan had ever seen, were visible from the side of the cottage. He heard an angry man’s voice yelling something he could not make out. The man must be inside with his mother.

Ronan released Muren’s hand and ran back to the cottage. What could a boy of seven do against all those warriors? He did not know, but he was not about to let his mama face them alone.

When he reached the cottage, he crept around to the back. He crawled up on the old stone that rested underneath a window and peered inside. His mother’s face was in her hands and she was weeping. A large man had his back to her with his hands on his hips. Ronan took in his appearance. Tall and powerful looking, he wore a bright green cloak, and his hair was dark and loose about his shoulders.

He then turned around. His papa! But why did his mother cry? Ronan climbed down from the rock and only then noticed Muren had followed him back.

“Stay out here, Muren. I will go inside to see what is happening.”

“I want to come too. I want Mama.”

“Shhhh. Stay out here or I will not play any more games with you.”

Her bottom lip quivered again. Did she do it on purpose? Ronan took her by the hand and made her sit on the rock.

“I will be back for you in a moment.”

“Ok, Ronan.” Her voice was weak. He could tell she was scared too.

Ronan slowly opened the back door so as to make no noise. He then moved to the kitchen door and peered through a small opening between the boards. His father’s big, meaty hands were on his mother’s shoulders shaking her.

“Where is he?”

“I do not know,” she said between sobs.

“How is it you do not know where our son is?”

“He is playing and probably will not be back for hours. Please, there must be another way.”

“There is no other way. Artagan is dead and Ronan is my only other son. He must come with me and learn his place among the clan and as future Earl of Sutherland.”

Ronan put his hand over his mouth. Go with his father? But he was happy here with his mother and Muren. He did not want to go anywhere.

“You cannot take him from me, Artair.” Her voice was full of pleading. “He is my son too. I will never see him again.”

“You do not get to address me in such an informal manner, whore.” He grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled so that she had no choice but to look into his face. “Now, tell me where he is or I will burn your home to the ground with you in it.”

Ronan’s mouth was suddenly dry. He threw the door open and raced toward his mama and papa. He jumped and landed on his father’s shoulder and tugged at the arm holding her hair.

“You let her go!”

His father reached around and grasped Ronan by the scruff of his neck and pulled him clear with little effort. For a moment or two, he dangled from his father’s grip, wondering what would happen next. He did not have long to wait.

“Put him down!” His mother screeched so loud it hurt Ronan’s ears.

His father tucked him under his arm and proceeded to the door. All Ronan could see was his mother chasing after him and Muren coming in the back door.

“Ronan, Ronan! Where are you going? We have to finish our game.”

Outside, his father walked with them to his horse and flung Ronan up so that he sat astride the beast. He then hopped up behind him and wrapped his big arms around him so tight he could hardly breathe.

“Mama, make him give Ronan back.” Muren’s cries were like individual daggers piercing Ronan’s heart. He could not bear to watch his mother and sister weep.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You go home with me to take your rightful place as my heir.”

“I do not want to go. I want to stay here with my family.”

“You will go with me and you will do everything you are told, or I will come back here and take it out on them. Do you understand, lad?”

Ronan was certain he would lose the contents of his stomach at any moment and fought the urge. He swallowed but the lump lodged in his throat would not go away.

“I do not want you to hurt them.”

“And I will have no reason to do so if you do what you are told. Do you understand?”

Ronan took one last look at his mother and sister. The decision was easy.

“Aye, Papa. I understand. I will go with you and I will listen.”

“Good, now say farewell to your mother and sister. You will not see them again for a long time.”

Ronan drew a deep breath and held his tears at bay. His mama and sister approached at his father’s bidding.

“You may say your farewells now. If all goes well, I may return with him from time to time.”

Ronan looked into his mother’s eyes, wishing with all that he was worth that he could wipe the tears from them. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and he wanted hers around him.

“Be my big, strong lad, Ronan. Will you do that for me?”

“I will, Mama.”

“Who will play with me now, Mama?”

“I will play with you, Muren.”

“Be good and listen to Mama, Muren.”

“I will, Ronan.”

“Enough of this,” his father said.

His father turned the horse and kicked its sides hard. They galloped away from Ronan’s home and his family. He did not know what awaited him at his new home, but his belly was full of dread.

“Ronan Sutherland, you are now heir to the earldom and future chief of our clan. From this day, you must always remember who you are, first and foremost. No one person is ever more important than the needs of the clan.”

“But what about Mama and Muren?” He was very near to tears now. He could not let them spill for fear his papa would hurt his family.

“You need to forget them. As far as you are concerned, from now on, they do not exist.”

Ronan wished in that moment that he did not either.