Highland Rake (5 page)

"A MacNeill," Alana said, still considering the possibility, though she did not think Odara had much of a chance to make a union happen between a MacNeill and a Cameron. The two clan chiefs were both too stubborn, both too boar-headed about who was right and who was wrong.

No, her uncle would never agree to the arrangement.

Odara swallowed hard. "I…I think I may be carrying his child."

Alana stared at her in disbelief. "Odara, you should have told me this at once. The herbs I gave you will be all right for the bairn, but I could have given you something that would have done it harm."

Tears filled the woman's eyes.

Alana frowned. "I didna, but I could have. How can you be carrying a MacNeill's child?"

Odara's eyes widened as she looked at her as though she was surprised Alana wouldn't know about such things.

This time Alana flushed, her cheeks flaming with heat. Then she scowled. "I know the way of it. I have delivered a number of wee bairn. I know how they got there!"

Alana had overheard enough conversations between the women in the castle, bragging to each other about what their men did to pleasure them, that she thought she was quite enlightened. Though curious, too, as to what it would truly be like to have a man making love to her. "What I dinna understand is how
you
are breeding." She stared at Odara, still unable to see how it could have happened. The woman seemed so quiet when it came to men, Alana didn't think most men even knew she existed. "I dinna see how you could have a man's bairn growing in your belly when you are no' wed to him." A man who was from the enemy clan of all things!

"We share so many…interests," Odara said shyly.

Alana scoffed. "Och, the sheep are one thing, but…" She waved her hand at Odara. "This is quite another. What are we to do?"

"Naught can be done, my lady," Odara said meekly. "The laird will take my croft, my sheep, and send me away when he learns I am carrying a MacNeill babe."

"Does he know? The father of the bairn? Does he know you are carrying his child?"

"Nay. I didna think I was with child before today. I am still not fully certain."

"You canna wed Gilleasbuig. He would realize you were having a child no' his own if you are. No telling what he would do."

"The MacNeill has a sick niece staying with him also, and he came by last eve to see if you had come to bring me anything to settle my discomfort and wondered if you might check on her. He lives so close to the border, he couldna walk all the way to Craigly Castle to fetch their healer while leaving his niece alone."

"Nay, that wouldna do. What ails the lass?" Alana asked, worried even more now that some sickness was spreading.

"A fever, my lady."

Alana took a deep breath, knowing what she had to do now. "'Tis no' far across the border, you say?"

"Walking, aye, but riding shouldna take you too verra long."

"I will see to his niece and speak with the man you have been seeing about the babe."

If the sheepherder lived close to the border, Alana did not think she would have any difficulty. She was only a woman, not a man leading a group of raiders. Alana had delivered a wee bairn of a MacNeill crofter who lived near their border when the woman could not get help quickly enough from her own clan. Alana could meet Odara's man there, and she was certain no trouble would come of it.

"Where do you meet him?" Alana prayed his niece didn't have the same symptoms as her maid. What if Odara had the same sickness as her maid and the girl? Though if Odara was breeding without a husband, that would not be good either. Especially when the da was a MacNeill.

Alana would get word to him. He had to know what kind of a predicament he had put the shepherdess in and that the bairn was his also. He had to have some say in the matter if he wished it.

"Where, Odara? And what is his name? I will go. I will say that I am looking for the man who is the da of the bairn growing in the shepherdess's belly by the name of Odara and that he must make this right by her. And I will see to the girl. I couldna forgive myself if she died when I might have saved her. Truly 'tis no' too far, is it?"

Odara looked pale again and was trembling so hard that Alana took pity on her, leaned down, and took her hand. Meeting her gaze, Alana said, "I will do this with or without your help. 'Tis the man's bairn also, and he has every right to know about it."

She hoped the sheepherder would come for Odara and take her to his own croft where they could raise his sheep, should they wish it. If he loved her as much as it appeared Odara loved him, Alana felt it could work.

Odara slowly nodded. "Rob MacNeill. He lives near the border. No' far from here."

"Near where I delivered the MacNeill bairn?"

"Nay, nay, north of there. No' south."

Letting out her breath, Alana nodded. She'd have preferred it was in the same area where she had visited before, where she had saved the MacNeill mother and her newborn infant. They would know her there. "I will go and seek out this man."

"What if he doesna want me? What if he only wished to have a little fun and didna intend to wed me?" Odara asked.

Alana straightened. "I will learn what I can. 'Tis early. My uncle willna return for mayhap several more days. He never learned of the time that I had delivered a MacNeill babe. He willna learn of this."

Odara said, "He doesna intend to wed you to one of the McDonald's sons, does he?"

"I dinna know for certain. 'Tis none of my concern as my uncle would say." Though it bothered Alana to admit as much, it was the way of their world. "
Rest
. I will return when I can. I will pay the lad to take care of your sheep until the sickness passes. He will need to be fed…"

"I will feed the lad. You have your mother's ways, my lady, God rest her soul."

"Her temper also and her willfulness, I fear," Alana said smiling, then made for the doorway. "'Tis still early. I will return before dark falls."

The boy was already off with the sheep in the heather, letting them eat their fill, when Alana headed west toward the MacNeill border and the stream that divided their lands. This time it would be different from when she had crossed into the MacNeill land bordering her uncle's. She would not be as welcome as she sought to deliver a bairn and save the mother's life. She would be searching for the father of her clanswoman's babe who might not be willing to claim it as his own nor desire to wed the lass. What if he was already married?

Men like that would not be held accountable. She prayed this was not the case. That he would love Odara and return for her. That she would love him back. And she prayed his niece was not too ill, that she could aid her, and she would soon recover.

She thought her brother might accompany her for a bit. But he wasn't around now. She didn't know what triggered his appearances. Why he would leave her for days, then suddenly materialize into her life again.

She soon reached the stream that separated the Cameron and the MacNeill lands and crossed it, then traveled another hour north. She had seen nothing but emerald green hills, the lacy edge of a forest, a small blue loch, and several streams filled with mossy stones. The lands between the Cameron and the MacNeill were vast, but she thought the shepherd would live close to the border—as Odara had claimed—if he had been slipping over it to see Odara on a regular basis. After traveling a couple of more hours and finding no croft or a sheepherder grazing sheep, she worried that when she crossed the stream dividing their lands, she had headed farther north than the man lived or she was still too far south.

She sat upon her horse, surveying the lavender drifts of heather, purple thistles proudly swaying in the breeze, a hawk winging its way across the blue sky now covered in clouds so blended and flat that it was like looking at a soft pillow of thin white wool cloth.

The air was warm, a steady breeze blowing in her direction when she thought she saw movement on top of one of the green hills only broken up by a cairn and a smattering of trees. Was it him? The shepherd grazing his sheep?

Or was it a bird in the heather, flying off into the sky?

She wasn't certain. She rode toward the hill to see if she might find some sheep. When she finally reached the top, she saw no one. But she heard splashing down below the hill. Curiosity got the best of her.

She moved further to the edge of the sloping hill and stared down at the sight of a dozen or so men bathing in a loch. And froze. They were naked, their plaids, tunics, boots, and belts discarded on the grass, their horses grazing nearby.

A lad was running down the high hill toward them at a frantic pace, arms flying, fully clothed, and she wondered now if he was the one she had seen atop the hill, but he'd moved so quickly, he was like a red grouse flitting from the heather.

"There is a lady," the lad called out, pointing toward the hilltop, motioning toward Alana, not realizing she'd followed him here.

One of the naked men who had left the water was standing on the bank, plaid in hand, but not covering himself, his attention turning from the excited lad to the woman on the hill. The tall man was bronzed and muscled, his hair an earthy dark brown, a sturdy jaw, and dark eyes that stared at her as if he couldn't believe she really was there, staring back at him. Like a statue, she couldn't look away if she'd wanted to.

The other men stayed in the water where it licked at their chests. They were quietly observing her, not saying a word as if they thought she was a spirit or sprite or maybe the fae. Good, let them think that, and they'd stay put.

Breaking free from the shock that she'd felt at spying the naked Highlanders—and she was loathe to admit—fascination she experienced, she didn't wait to see what would happen next. Their grazing horses and swords lying next to their plaids and not a sheep around told her enough. A sheepherder was not among these men. A sliver of panic seized her at once. She tried to remind herself why she was here. That she needed to find the man named Rob MacNeill. To find the little girl who was ill who was his niece. But what if these men might wish her harm?

She whipped her horse around and headed back down the hill from whence she had come, careful to pick her way among the rocks lest she injure her horse.

She would have a good head start as it would take the men time to dress and mount their horses. Or so she thought. She had not taken in account how quickly her own clansmen would throw on their clothes and be ready to leave at a moment's notice when they were faced with trouble.

The men shouted to each, ribald comments of who would catch the Sidhe, the fae, and what they would do with her. "Your brother found a pearl in the sea. You are swimming in a loch and see the vision of the fae, Dougald. Mayhap this is your destiny to capture her and make her your own."

They truly couldn't believe she was one of the fae. Her heart pounding with fear, she attempted to keep her wits about her and tried to remain calm, resolute, determined to find the MacNeill and his niece.

As soon as she reached the base of the hill, she rode as if the devil was after her. The forest was too far away to reach it and hide before the men could dress, mount, and take after her.

She heard horses' hooves impact the earth as they headed toward the top of the hill.

She glanced back and could only see one man sitting tall on his horse's back. She could not see him well from this distance as much as she was running her horse, except for a silhouette against the bright sky. He was wrapped in plaid, a sword at his hip, the hilt poking out of its scabbard. She could not tell the color of his hair, or what he wore in his bonnet that would clue her in as to his clan's affiliation, though he had to be a MacNeill or a man from a clan that allied with them.

She believed he was the man who had been standing on the shore.

She could not tell the expression he wore as he sat quietly observing her. His head turned to survey the land behind her, searching, she assumed, for anyone else who might have come with her. From this, she gathered he was a cautious man, prudent, and for an instant she admired him for it.

Looking again toward the distant forest, she hoped he would think it a trap and would not follow her. Mayhap she should call out to her invisible soldiers and wave in the man's direction. Would he take heed then?

Or mayhap she should stop, wait for him to come to her, explain to him what she desired to know. The man would know she wished no one any ill will. Mayhap he could direct her the right way. Surely if he was riding in this area, he would know of the man called Rob MacNeill. She was getting nowhere all on her own. And the sky would begin to darken before long.

She stopped her horse and turned to see the man still waiting on top of the hill not moving in her direction.

As if she was facing down a wolf—though she did not want to think of herself as a sheep—she remained sitting very still upon her horse, the only movement, the mare's heavy breathing, and her tail swishing back and forth. Alana's own heart beat at just as frantic a pace. Alana couldn't tear her gaze away from the man's progress as he finally made his way down the rocky slope on horseback.

She couldn't decide. Should she continue to run for the forest? Or speak her business to the man? Since only one was coming to meet her, she could do this.