My Highland Bride (22 page)

The drenching curtain of light mist had changed to the beginnings of a bone-chilling rain. Bits of ice stung his face as Colum patted Rua’s flank one last time. “I leave ye to it, old friend. Keep close to the road, mind the wolves, and watch for my return.”

Rua flicked an ear before melting into the darkness of the wood on the high side of the trail. The crunch of his hooves through the frosty underbrush slowly faded as the horse moved away.

Colum squinted up into the night sky. Not a single star winked back at him. Nothing showed through the tops of the pines but the blue-black softness of threatening storm clouds. He shrugged his plaid higher across his shoulders and silently trotted up the growing slipperiness of the roadway.

As the freezing rain increased in strength, the smell of smoke disappeared. Colum paused a half second, absorbing every sound and scent. Surely, their camp couldna be too far ahead. Anticipation surged through him, heated his blood better than a deep swallow of whisky.

The sleet pelted down faster. Droplets of ice rattled through the trees like pellets poured from the sky. Ice crystals hopped across the sheen of freezing mud along the path. Colum quickened his pace. Sutherland best ha’ made proper shelter for Kenna. His love wouldna be accustomed to the harshness of such a mountain storm.

A pale yellow light winked and flickered through the maze of slick black trunks to the left of the narrow roadside. Excitement tingled through Colum.
Aye, there ye be.
Sutherland’s camp had to be just up ahead.

Colum eased through the trees, rolling his steps from heel to toe, moving silent as a specter. The unmistakable scent of wet animals and cold damp woods hung heavy in the air. The fire’s glow strengthened, spreading farther through the trees. Colum halted and took in the surroundings.

Horses, all with dark plaids draped across their backs, were tethered to a sagging rope stretched between two trees. The soaked mounts huddled close against the inclement weather. The three-sided wagon sat a bit higher up the hillside, its dark wet sides glistening in the weak firelight.

Colum counted the bodies sprawled in huddled piles around the fire. Seven. Was it seven of Sutherland’s men or was Kenna one of the plaid-covered forms curled closest to the hissing flames?

Movement at the opposite edge of the glowing circle caught Colum’s attention. He eased closer, straining to see through the haze of darkness and freezing rain.

Sutherland.
Hatred shook through Colum, tightening every tendon to readiness. The silver of the man’s hair flickered in the poor light as he walked toward the other side of the encampment.

Colum’s jaw cracked as he clenched his teeth. There, with a length of chain wrapped around her waist and shackled to a nearby tree, was Kenna. The bastard Sutherland had tied her off like a hound awaiting the hunt. Rage shook through him. He would wrap that chain around Sutherland’s throat and snap the man’s neck with it.

Sucking in a deep breath of the frigid air, Colum returned his gaze to Kenna’s face. His fury would serve him better later. He had to stay calm and plan well.

Kenna’s skin shone pale and delicate in the flickering light of the fire. Her dark lashes feathered across colorless cheeks as she shivered in her sleep, huddled at the base of the tree. Did the bastard no’ have enough sense to get her closer to the fire or shield her from the rain?

Colum pulled the muted colors of his hunting plaid over his hair and crouched low behind the tangled branches of leafless brush. He had to get closer. His love didna look well at all.

As Colum moved, he kept his focus trained on Sutherland. The silver-haired man made his way ever closer to Kenna with slow calculating steps. Colum slid his dagger free of its sheath and rolled its weight in the palm of his hand. If the son of a bitch so much as touched Kenna, ’twould be the last thing the man did afore he traveled to meet his maker. Colum tensed as Sutherland came to a stop at Kenna’s feet.

Colum couldna see Sutherland’s face, but he could only imagine the man’s lecherous expression. He turned the knife in his hand, gripping the very tip of the blade and taking aim for the throw. From this distance, the knife would easily bury itself into the base of Sutherland’s skull. Perfect. Albeit a bit too quick an end for Colum’s liking, considering the bastard deserved to suffer for all he had put Kenna through.

Colum straightened a bit as Sutherland unwound layers of a dark heavy plaid from about his body and crouched toward Kenna. Colum raised the knife, angling for the throw.

Sutherland took the length of the cloth and carefully spread it across Kenna’s body, then tucked it about her shivering form. The silky material of the man’s dark
léine
glistened with wetness as the sleeting rain poured down his broad back. He reached across Kenna and pulled forward several branches of pine. The boughs were dense with thick tangled bunches of lush green needles. He forced the sharpened ends of the thatched foliage into the muddy ground and bowed them over Kenna into a makeshift shelter. Just before he backed away, he lightly traced a finger along the line of Kenna’s cheek.

Colum lowered the knife as Sutherland stood. The chieftain stared down at Kenna for a long moment, then turned and walked back to the fire. What the hell was the bastard’s plan? He’d decided to leave Kenna to her sleep? Just as well. He preferred killing Sutherland slowly, and with as much suffering as possible. Colum melted deeper into the shadows and headed toward Kenna.

Chapter 25

Kenna’s nose twitched. Pine sap. Wet wool. And some sort of spice? Was it cloves or cinnamon? Kenna eased in a deeper breath as she sank back against the hard curve of the tree. Definitely cloves. She barely cracked open an eyelid, just in time to watch a set of muscular calves and muddy boots walk away. The soothing warmth of the damp plaid bunched about her body urged her to forget her troubles and go back to sleep.
Absolutely not.
Kenna risked opening one eye a bit more and forced herself to focus. She needed to stay alert. She could sleep when she made it back home.

The muddy boots and legs belonged to Ronan. Kenna held her breath as she snuggled the heavy wool farther over her face. Hopefully, Ronan would just think she was searching for more warmth in her sleep and his irritating perception wouldn’t pick up on the fact that she was wide awake.

Thankfully, Ronan remained oblivious to her shifting. The man stood staring down at the fire, his face drawn into a thoughtful scowl.

In spite of all that had happened, Kenna’s heart twitched a bit. Poor Ronan looked so

sad—so alone. Did he still mourn all he had lost? Had he actually loved both of his previous wives? The man seemed frozen in time as he stared unblinking at the flames.

Ronan finally jerked as though freeing himself from some sort of hold. After feeding several more logs to the fire, he propped himself against a chunk of limestone jutting out from the embankment, then leaned back and closed his eyes.

The wet logs popped and sizzled, shifting with a whispered thud and shooting sparks up into the night. Without emerging from her pine-scented nest, Kenna scanned the campsite. Everyone slept, huddled deep in their plaids against the steady sleet shushing down through the trees.

Kenna slid a thumb under the chain wrapped around her waist and yanked.
Dammit
. If only they had given her back her knife. Maybe then she could’ve used the blade to spread apart the twisted links and weaken them enough to snap her bonds. Kenna sighed and released the chain. Unfortunately, her captors weren’t stupid.

A distinct rustling louder than the pelting rain focused Kenna’s attention to the woods behind her.
What the heck is that?
Cautiously, she lifted her head and silently counted the sleeping men scattered around the campsite. Seven men plus Ronan. That was everybody.
Holy crap.
What if there was some kind of animal sniffing around back there, looking for a snack? She’d heard wolves earlier. She shivered and strained to identify the noise.

Kenna yanked harder on the chain around her waist.
Dammit
. Here she was tied to the tree like a big hunk of wolf bait free for the taking. Scooting up into a sitting position, she pushed the plaid away and yanked harder at the chain with both hands.

“Still yourself, lass. D’ye wish to rouse them all?” Colum’s hissed whisper sounded just to the right of the tree, through the thickest layers of pine boughs stacked about her.

Relief flooded through Kenna. She pressed both fists against her mouth as tears of joy blurred her vision. Colum. He was finally here. Then her heart fell as the chain around her waist tugged and sagged back into place. That damn chain. How was Colum going to get her free of that stupid chain?

Kenna scooted back against the tree. Keeping her gaze trained on Sutherland and his sleeping men, she struggled to keep her voice low. “Colum, thank God you’re here—but how are you going to get me free of this chain? The lock is some weird combination-looking thing. I heard a couple of the men bragging about how escape-proof it was because there was no key.”

Colum reached through the thicket of branches and brushed a finger against her check. “Have no fear,” he whispered. “Yer captors were good enough ta gift me wi’ this fine axe. ’Tis an arrogant fool who thinks his enemy so far away he can leave his weapons unattended.”

An axe? Kenna risked a quick glance behind her. She couldn’t make out anything but murky shadows and swaying branches. “They’ll hear you if you try to chop through the chain. Can’t you think of another way?” She squinted into the darkness. Where the devil was he? “Colum?”

“They willna hear me. But they will hear yerself if ye dinna hold yer tongue whilst I work.” The links of the chain quietly rattled, then fell limp to the ground.

Kenna pulled on the chain, delighted when she was able to gather the length of it away from the tree and pile it beside her. “How did you do that? I didn’t even hear a chop.”

“Like this.” Colum snaked the pointed tip of the axe head through the boughs of Kenna’s shelter. He wedged the lethal point of the axe into a link of chain atop a knotted tree root and severed it with a sharp twist. “This chain was no’ meant to withstand such treatment.”

Kenna held her breath against the excitement building inside her. She was free. Escape was finally at hand. With one last glance across the silent camp, Kenna gathered the heavy plaid up into her arms and slid backward through the branches. She bit her lip against making a sound as Colum snatched her by the waist and swung her up beside him.

“I knew—” A silent sob cut off her words, lodging them in her throat. Rendered nearly breathless from the emotions pounding through her, she tried again. “I knew you’d find me,” she whispered. Snuggling closer, she brushed her lips against the warm strength of Colum’s throat, breathing in as he crushed her against his chest. Her heart lifted as the scent of him soothed her in the most basic, primal way. Everything was going to be all right. Colum was here and she was going home.

“Yer mine.” Colum’s hoarse, guttural claiming rumbled against her as he lifted her face and searched out her mouth, then kissed her. Hard. His cold lips opened hers ever wider until his raw urgency pounded through her as well. “Yer mine,” Colum rasped again as he swept her up into his arms and edged them both higher along the steep incline of the hillside.

Kenna pressed her face against Colum’s chest and held on for dear life. Thank goodness he was carrying her. After that kiss, she didn’t trust the strength of her legs.

Colum carried her up through the dark wood as though she weighed no more than a feather. His breath huffed out in a cloud of mist with the steady rhythm of each carefully placed step. Kenna finally stretched and looked back over Colum’s shoulder. Nothing moved in the dark wet wood, and the weak flicker of Sutherland’s fire had finally faded and disappeared. She couldn’t even see the path Colum had made through the tangled clumps of saplings and ragged nettle branches.

Finally, Colum halted. He lowered her to her feet and leaned them both back against the base of an enormous tree. He ran a calloused thumb along her jawline as he stared down into her face. Colum didn’t speak, didn’t pull her into another kiss, just stood and stared at her as though trying to convince himself she was really standing there before him.

Kenna reached up, took his hand, and pressed it to her cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. She closed her eyes against the tears refusing to be held at bay.

Warm lips pressed against the trail of tears burning down her freezing face. “Dinna cry,
mo chridhe.
I beg ye, dinna cry.” Colum’s voice rumbled into a low-throated growl, filled with emotion.

“I knew you would come.” Kenna forced a smile and sniffed back another deluge of tears. “And thank you for saving me without killing anybody.” A quiet giggle escaped her. Even in the darkness of the wood, Kenna could make out the murderous glint in Colum’s narrowed eyes. “I know you probably wanted to kill them all, but I really appreciate the fact that you didn’t.”

Colum took the plaid, still bunched up in Kenna’s arms, shook it out, and draped it around her. “Ye have no idea how much I wished t’see them all die.” He jerked the plaid tight about her shoulders, his face close enough for Kenna to clearly see his rage. “I still wish t’see them all die. This is no’ over yet.”

Kenna hooded the folds about her head and swaddled the remaining yardage about her body. “I know you do, but it
is
over now. All we need to concentrate on is finding Rua and getting home.”

An alarmed shout echoed up through the darkness below them.

Colum frowned down the hillside. “It appears Chieftain Sutherland and his men have discovered yer gone.”

Kenna grabbed Colum’s arm and tugged. “Then come on! If we don’t find Rua before they find us, we’ll never get away!”

Colum yanked Kenna back and pulled her in the opposite direction. “Stay close t’me. This border tract of MacKenna land is treacherous. Many a man has lost his life among these hills.”