Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4) (8 page)

Was this Artis MacKay?

She stuck the pistol in her belt, picked up and sheathed the dirk, and then glanced up at William who just arrived astride his mount and leading
her frightened mare.

William tipped his tricorne at her. “Miss MacKay,” he said, “may I introduce you to my brother Daniel MacKee. We all call him ‘Bear,’ for obvious reasons.”

She turned her eyes back to Bear and opened her lovely mouth to say something, but stopped.

He decided he’d better speak up or he might be forever tongue-tied in her presence. He could see a few scratches on her arms, one fairly deep, but her fair face and body held no wounds. “I am most pleased to make yer acquaintance Miss MacKay. How do ye fare? I have some bandages in my saddle bag. Do ye want me to wrap that deep scratch?”

She glanced down at the scratch and took a closer look. “Nay, it just needs a good washing. Thank ye for yer timely assistance Mister MacKee.”

“Ye are probably still shaken, but yer goin’ to be fine. I assume that’s yer horse William is leadin’?”

“She threw me and ran off when the lion came close.”

“Horses are na too fond of mountain lions.”

“I can na blame them,” she said still somewhat breathless.

“Why don’t ye mount yer horse and I’ll load this mountain lion on mine. Camel is well used to the smell of all the animals I’ve hunted, includin’ big cats like this.”

“Why do ye want it?” she asked.

“So I can skin him and give you the hide,” Bear answered, surprised that she didn’t realize his intention. “These hides are quite valuable, and it is yers if ye want it.”

“Aye, I would, it would likely make a nice blanket.”

“Indeed, it will,” he answered, and stooped to pick up the animal that weighed as much as some men.

She kept staring at him and Bear knew it was likely because of his unusual size. He’d seen the same reaction before from other people.

“Can my brother and I escort you to where you were going?” William asked.

“I would welcome ye, for a wee bit,” she said and strode over to her horse. After deftly mounting the mare, she said, “I was on my way to see my land for the first time. From the directions I received from the Land Commissioner, it should be just ahead at the bend in the road.”

“I’ve been wondering who that land belonged to. We’ll be neighbors. My wife and I have a place called Whispering Hills, a few miles beyond yours,” William said.

While the two spoke, Bear tied the mountain lion to the back of his saddle. “Steady Camel. This big boy is dead. He will na harm ye. Artis and I have seen to that.”

He remounted and followed as William led them both to Miss MacKay’s land.

Chapter 8

A
rtis’ heart was still racing. She had never come so close to death. And hoped she never would again.

And the sight of the immense Scot standing before her, after he’d killed the beast, had been nearly as frightening as the lion. He seemed as strong as an oak and almost as tall. And, as he’d slayed the cat in the blink of an eye, she could tell that his fierce face and swift actions revealed but a glimpse of the warrior within him.

His enormous body looked like a virtual armory. Besides the deadly dirk he’d wielded to kill the lion, he kept a smaller knife, called a
sgian dubh
by Scots, tucked into the top of his tall leather moccasins. Another knife hung from his neck in a beautifully beaded doeskin sheath. A hatchet, which appeared as though it might once have been an Indian’s tomahawk, stuck out from his belt. Two flintlock pistols, pointing in opposite directions, protruded through leather sheaths. And a Kentucky long rifle hung from his saddle.

When she saw him for the first time, her initial emotion had been relief. But something else quickly followed as he’d intently peered at her. Although he’d acted a gentleman and his words were kind, his eyes had raked boldly over her. When other men did that to her, her only reaction was immediate anger and repulsion. She found their gawking degrading. But for some reason, with this man, she didn’t seem to mind. He seemed
to be admiring not demeaning her. Perhaps it was his voice that reminded her of her home or the humor reflected in his kind eyes, but she found his charismatic manner exciting. Whatever it was, she had to admit his compelling character intrigued her.

As they rode side by side behind William’s horse, she decided she wanted to learn more about this rugged Scot. He was dressed in a buckskin hunting shirt and black leather breeches and looked ready to take on anything and everything.

“Mister MacKee,” she said, tingling a little when she said his name, so similar to her own, “where in Scotland was yer boyhood home and how long have ye been in the colonies, if I may ask?”

A sudden sadness appeared on his face. “Please call me Bear, Miss. My parents and I sailed for the colonies right after the first clearance—the bastards took our land and forced us off it. My da and mum both died on the voyage and we buried them at sea.” Bear gazed down and she saw him swallow his emotions before he continued. “I was but thirteen years old, although I was already as big as most men.”

“What happened to ye?”

“New York was just too sizeable for a boy from the Highlands. I had my father’s coins, and used some of it to travel to New Hampshire. I met William’s kind parents, God rest their good souls, in church and soon they adopted me. They treated me like one of their own five sons. Durin’ the winter, Mrs. Wyllie would insist that I stay with them, attend church, and receive schoolin’ with her own boys. But the rest of the year, I wanted to be outdoors. I used the skills me grandfather taught me in the Highlands to become a hunter and rid the area of the threat of dangerous predators, especially bears and wolves.”

“Where was yer family’s land in the Highlands?” she asked.

He turned toward her. “Grumbeg, on the north side of Loch Naver.”

Artis’ heart ached within her breast at the mention of her beloved Loch. She could not stop her eyes from watering and she bowed her head as she
remembered the clear dark blue water lapping against the Loch’s scenic shores. She took a deep breath, looked up, and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry Miss MacKay, did I say somethin’ amiss?” Bear asked gently.

“Nay, I was just rememberin’ our homeland with fondness. Bear, we grew up within a few miles of each other. I’m from Achadh an Eas on the south side of Loch Naver.”

His face lit up and a tiny glow cheered her too. To have found a fellow countryman here in Kentucky was not that unusual. Virginia and Kentucky were full of Scots because the blue mountains reminded them of home. But to meet one who spent his youth so close to her own home, she could only call a divine appointment. God must have arranged their meeting. There could be no other explanation.

And he had experienced the same tragic losses—his home and his parents taken from him. And, like her, she could tell it still pained him.

“I remember my father mentionin’ that he sold some cattle to a man from Achadh,” Bear said.

She smiled at that. “I wonder if it was my Da he sold them to. He owned quite a few Highland cattle. Did yer father raise red or black coated?”

“Black,” Bear answered. “Because they were a wee bit harder for thieves to spot in the night.”

“My Da’s were black too!”

They both laughed and she felt wrapped in the warmth the man exuded.

“I hate to interrupt your reminiscing, but I believe we have arrived at your land, Miss MacKay,” William said, tugging on his reins and pointing.

Artis’ thoughts came back to where she was. She beheld her land for the first time. It was spectacular. A lovely place, with abundant hard woods and a gentle pasture that slopped upward from the road. And she could hear a creek babbling peacefully on the north line of her acreage. Bear and
William followed as she rode Beautiful a short ways into the property and gazed around her. All the magnificent trees were hers! Each shrub. Every blade of grass. Every single rock and piece of soil. Hers!

She savored the thought. For Artis, like most Scots, land signified life itself. As important as air to breathe or water to drink. Its necessity was absolute. For some, property simply signified power or wealth. But this land meant far more to her. It was her new home—a place where she might live and love with a family—a place for her weary heart to rest.

But it would take a lot to make it a home—for now it was just raw wilderness. She would need to find a job, save enough money to build a house, buy livestock and equipment, and plant a garden. She suddenly felt ill-equipped to undertake such an enormous task, particularly with winter approaching. But she would not let worries dampen her spirits. She had come a long way to get here and somehow, by God, she would make it all work.

“It’s a charming place, Miss MacKay. You are fortunate to have it. Land around here is increasingly hard to come by. Were you planning to camp here for the evening?” William asked.

“Yes, I brought a blanket and I have a wee bit of food in my bag too,” Artis said, “and I have a pistol, as you saw earlier, and my dirk.” She couldn’t help feeling proud that she’d actually managed to hit the immense cat, although the lead only managed to weaken and slow the animal’s attack, not stop it.

“Och, ye canna stay here by yerself with na protection save a single shot flintlock and an old rusty dagger,” Bear declared, shaking his head.

Artis narrowed her eyes at the big man. “Aye, I can, and I will, if I choose to!” she shot back. “And an old dirk it is—for it belonged first to my grandfather—but I carry it proudly.”

“My pardons,” Bear said quickly, “I meant na offense, so take none. I was just worried for yer safety.”

“I thank ye for yer concern. But I have taken care of myself since I was
fifteen—seven long years—so I’ve na need of a man tellin’ me what I can and can na do.”

“I did na tell ye what ye could do,” Bear protested. “Just what ye should na do. That is if ye have any sense at all.”

William just sat there watching them, smiling broadly. She gave him a reproachful sideways glance too.

“Bear tends to be on the protective side for all of us, Miss MacKay, not just you. Like a clan chief, he protects and cares for everyone in my family,” William explained.

That made Artis feel better. Perhaps she’d over reacted.

“I guard them all like a mother would her babe,” Bear said proudly.

“Well, I suppose I should be honored to have someone concerned for my safety. I’m just na used to it. Forgive me for lettin’ me temper slip out.”

“Since you don’t have a shelter built yet, you are most welcome to join us at Whispering Hills for as long as you need,” William offered.

“Nay, I do na want to make your home too crowded. You already have Bear to find room for.”

“Bear will be staying with my wife’s father, Mister McGuffin, in the cabin next door. In my cabin, we have an extra sleeping area in the loft upstairs. I’m certain my wife Kelly would relish the company of another woman for a while.”

Artis thought about the attack by the mountain lion and the fact that the woods held numerous other dangers—wolves, bears, and snakes, among them. She quickly decided that she should take the sheriff up on his offer. “Aye, I would love to meet yer wife Kelly and to accept yer kind offer of hospitality.”

She peered over at Bear who sat comfortably in his saddle. His smile was so wide she thought his lips might split. His ruggedly handsome face appeared clean shaven, and his dark red hair looked freshly washed and
combed. Bushy dark brows framed his bluish green eyes. His strong jaw reflected his inner strength and suggested a stubborn streak. But his demeanor seemed kind.

“William and I will be occupied for two days at a meetin’ of appointed delegates gatherin’ in Boonesborough, but when we’re through with our business, we can help ye build somethin’ that will serve as a temporary shelter,” Bear offered.

“Och, I would na want to keep the sheriff from his duties, but yer kind offer to help is appreciated, Sir. I imagine a man of your size and obvious strength can cut a tree down a wee bit faster than I.” She let her eyes slide boldly over his body, and then felt her face flush when she realized what she’d done. She quickly reproached herself. She couldn’t imagine what he might think of her brashness. What was wrong with her?

Bear only chuckled and looked a bit self-conscious. When he smiled warmly at her again, for a long moment she felt as if she were basking in the sun. Her embarrassment forgotten, she decided his nature was not only kind, it was also full of sunshine.

Her life had seen far too many gray clouds over the last seven years. It felt good to feel a little sunshine. But who would have thought it would come in the form of an enormous well-armed Scotsman in the middle of Kentucky?

Chapter 9

Wilmington, North Carolina, Fall 1799

A
constant reminder of the country he’d lost, Patrick Steller heard the accent of Scotsmen or those speaking Gaelic almost everywhere he went. Today was no exception.

He recognized that he was responsible for a good many of them being here, so he averted his eyes and avoided looking directly at others as he walked. His mouth tight and frame of mind grim, most people would avoid him anyway.

As he brooded over what brought him to this point in his miserable life, he grew even more surly and ill-tempered.

At the direction of his former employer the Countess of Sutherland, he’d been efficient in clearing the villagers off her tens of thousands of acres—opening up the land for more profitable sheep farming. But, in the end, the woman thought his tactics too much.

The Countess had learned of his murder of Mary MacKay from Artis herself. Artis had wasted no time traveling the thirty miles to the Countess’ residence, Tongue House, to report the murder and demand justice. He’d learned later that Artis covered the distance to the castle on foot and at night, to avoid being spotted by Patrick or his men.

When she arrived, she described her mother’s slaying in gruesome
detail and told the Countess of the death of her uncle as well. The devious girl tried her best to convince the Countess that Steller should be tried for murder. She’d also demanded that her family’s land be returned to her forthwith.