Highland Stone (9 page)

Kara and Alaxandar rode in silence for a while, sharing only an occasional glance which was fine. She studied the fields of wild raspberries and elderberries. There were apple trees alongside the trail. The Highlanders managed quite well in the warmer seasons with the fruits. She itched to analyze the soil content and study the rock formations. With that information, she might be able to make helpful suggestions to plant crops, thereby providing more food and in turn, create less need for raids.

At the top of a huge hill they stopped and looked out over the glen. "I can smell the heather, and the flowers are so pretty." Kara sighed.

"This be good land," Alaxandar said. He dismounted and helped her down so they could walk a while.

"Where are we?"

"If we ride hard that direction for half a day," he pointed to the southeast, "we would be on MacKenzie land."

"What about that way?" She pointed north.

"That be Ross holdings. Ye never did tell me where ye come from," Alaxandar prompted.

Yep, those dive bombers were getting a workout today. "I came from there," she said, and pointed west.

"Ye came from the Minch?" He tilted his head.

Minch, Minch, what the hell was Minch? "Uh, huh. I came from the Minch."

Alaxandar frowned. It would explain much if she had come from the Minch on some sort of sailing vessel.
He still couldn't understand why she would journey alone.

Sunset fast approached. "We need to start back," he said and walked around to help her mount. While he held the reins she bent over to pull the skirt between her legs providing him with a view of her posterior. Instantly, his cock enlarged. Wicked visions of throwing the skirt over her head, grabbing her hips, and thrusting into her over and over made him growl.

"Did you say something?" she asked as she straightened.

"No." His cock was so hard now he could bang it against a tree and be better off.

Without further comment, he gripped her waist and all but threw her atop the mare. A creamy bare leg brushed his arm. Before he did something stupid, Alaxandar slapped the mare's rump then jumped upon his steed.

"Thank you for this," she said.

"For what?"

"For showing me the beautiful countryside."

He bowed his head. "Dunvegan 'tis over that rise." He indicated the slope and hill in front of them.

Kara cast an amused glance his way. "I'll race you back."

"Kara, 'tis not wise to be reckless."

"If I win, you agree that we'll do this again." She grabbed the reins tighter.

"And if I win?" Numerous ideas scrolled through his mind.

She took off at a high gallop laughing wildly, her blondish-brown tresses blown into disarray. Alaxandar decided he'd let her win so they could ride again, but he wouldn't let the victory come easily. With that thought, he bolted after her at lightning speed.

They entered the bailey at full gallop, Kara's mare beating him by a nose. At the stables, Alaxandar jumped off his mount and grabbed her as she slid from the horse. With a stern look and still trying to catch his breath he said, "Ye dinna race fair, minx. Ye started afore the terms were set. The next time, I shall know not to trust ye."

"I'll wait anxiously 'till the next time," she said, laying her hand against his cheek.

Alaxandar smiled as she left. Confusing, mysterious, and coming from the water, perhaps she was fae.

Too many strange things had happened. The young lad's story as told to his father earlier in the day didn't help point them toward the unknown enemy. He'd been too frightened to stick his head out from the thicket where he'd hidden to see a face or a symbol. In war, you knew your enemy. You faced him on the battleground sword to sword. There be no honor in killing women and children or sneak attacks on helpless villages late at night.

Ramsey's report about the King of England did not shed light on the current situation, but foretold of battles to come.

Kara's sudden appearance and his cousin's behavior around her unsettled him as well. He headed to the back of the keep and his favorite thinking activity.

Alaxandar attacked the wood pile with a vengeance. His arms fell in smooth, powerful arcs to split logs. He oftentimes came here when he wanted to think without distractions. It cleared his head. He'd been at it for over an hour and his muscles screamed with each swing. The recent attacks on his clan cluttered his thoughts. They were in areas void of stout clansmen with swords who could fight back. The fear was that they had someone on the inside. Kara? She would be the first choice, but she has someone with her at all times except when she is abed. There was no way she could be getting messages out without him knowing. And, she didn't have access to information that would be of use to a rival clan. A movement caught his eye and he stopped, the ax suspended in mid-air over his head. Kara leaned against the wall of the bake house, her slender arms stretched above her. The damp shirt stretched tight and outlined sumptuous breasts. That she would flaunt herself before him in such a manner snapped his temper. He threw down the axe and marched toward her.

"What 'tis wrong with ye?" Alaxandar ground out. "Ye kin see right through that shirt."

Kara's arms dropped and her chin lifted as she faced him. "I'm fully clothed and not your concern." She stabbed his chest with her finger.

In one swift motion, Alaxandar gently twisted the offending finger and hand behind her back and with the other hand recklessly caressed her neck. He kissed her hard, fusing their lips together. With the same abruptness, he ended the kiss then rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. A finger brushed her cheek, trailing down while one thumb stroked her plump bottom lip. His blood fired hot and fierce as he took her mouth again. This time, she opened allowing him to delve into sweet darkness. He broke the contact. "Go now, lass, afore I take ye here in the yard."

Her eyes glazed with vulnerability, and a touch of anger. She slipped under his arm and rushed back to the bake house.

Her interludes with Alaxandar MacLeod were becoming explosive. The next time, she didn't think he'd stop and she might not want him to. That worried her most of all. At the edge of her thoughts, she registered someone yelling.

"Fire, fire!"

Kara ran around the keep toward the bailey. In the distance, she saw flames and thick smoke. Women scurried, gathering supplies and medicines, while others loaded wagons and mounted horses.

Kara ran to the gate. "Alaxandar," she called, but he was already on a horse heading toward the burning buildings. She jumped into the last wagon. "What happened?"

"Raiders attacked," Leelah cried. "They set the huts ablaze afore they left."

"God help them," Kara murmured.

When the wagon stopped, Kara hopped out just in time to see Alaxandar run into the burning building and disappear behind a wall of fire.

"No," she screamed.

Cuilén grabbed her around the waist. "'Tis too late. He went in to save the babes."

Kara fell to her knees. The orange flames shot into the twilight sky. She covered her mouth to silence the sob. Pain cut through her chest.

She couldn't breathe.

Tears filled her eyes as she rose. Hers were not the only cries of agony.

The men formed a line and passed battered buckets of water to douse the fire. Others moved bales of hay, baskets and wood bins where foodstuffs were stored. Firewood that wasn't already in flames was moved out of the way. They worked tirelessly to keep the fires from spreading. Kara tried to join the water line, but the men wouldn't let her in. She wanted to help.

Kara noticed a small, round woman held up only by a man's arms. "There, there, Fia," she heard him say. The terror on Fia's face left no doubt that she was the mother.

Kara moved closer and hugged the woman. "I'm so sorry." Fia stared at her with anguished eyes.

She was in shock.

Kara's tears mingled with Fia's.

"Look," someone shouted.

Kara saw Alaxandar coming around the back of the hut with a squalling child dangling from each arm. Fia screamed and ran to them with Kara right behind her.

"Bless ye," Fia intoned as she grabbed her children and kissed them. The man braced Alaxandar in a hug before following his family.

Kara approached him, her heart pounding. He was alive, covered in black soot, coughing out smoke, but alive nonetheless. "You're bleeding." She reached out to touch him, but he shrugged her off.

"'Tis nothing." He crossed the yard to speak with the men who'd chased the raiders. They'd returned empty handed.

She followed.

"Sorry, Chief," the man said to Drummond. "We couldna catch 'em."

"Get some water, Tolmie." Drummond faced Alaxandar with a worried frown. "Good spot of work, getting the bairns. Are ye hurt?"

"A scratch."

His father's head bobbed, then he left to check on the rest. Alaxandar rubbed his tense neck.

Kara reached up and grabbed the hand of his injured arm. "Let me see this."

"I need to be helping. I canna stop now."

She frowned. Was he putting distance between them? Did he believe she had something to do with this?

Her heart plummeted.

"The fires are dwindling from everyone's hard work. Let me look at your arm."

He surveyed the situation, nodded, and pulled the shirt over his head. She poured water over the gash across his bicep and the burn on his forearm. He hissed and jerked from her grasp.

Alaxandar's intense gaze settled on her. The dying flames were alive in his eyes. Kara wrapped Alaxandar's arm. "There, good as new."

"Thanks." Again, his eyes captured her.

"I'll, uh, go see if anyone else needs tending."

He was quiet but she felt his gaze follow her.

When Kara returned to the keep with the other women, she saw the high-ranking men in a clan meeting with the chief. She stopped to listen.

"The rains will come soon," the chief said. "We need to check the roofs on all the buildings. The violent raids increase the need for our preparations. Take men with ye, Alaxandar, and see 'tis done, but beware for we dunna know when or where the bastards will strike next."

Alaxandar inclined his head. "On the morrow at first light."

"I dunna want less than ten men out o' the gates at a time. This be a game of life and death."

The others agreed.

"Cuilén and Iain kin start with the buildings here, Father. Jamie and Ramsey will go with me to the north section. We be telling all the clansmen to move closer to Dunvegan."

"Aye, 'tis best," his father agreed. "I shall meet with Sutherland. A rider left this morn."

"I should go with ye."

"Nay, Alaxandar. I will take Patrick, Murdo and Archibald. Ye have your hands full with the work here. Dunna fuss. I dunna believe it be the Sutherlands. 'Tis an unknown and I shall speak with each clan till I find the bastards and make 'em pay." Drummond stepped closer to Alaxandar and placed a hand on his shoulder. "If something happens to me, it falls to ye."

Alaxandar's jaw clenched, his mouth a forbidding straight line, as he nodded his understanding. A long look passed between Ramsey and Alaxandar, then MacLaren turned and left.

Kara hugged her waist. Unspoken dread and apprehension filled the place. Part of her ached to spend time with Alaxandar, but understood his inability to be with her right now. He left the hall without acknowledging her.

Jamie MacLeod's gaze fixed on her with malice. His gray-green eyes narrowed and she got an uneasy feeling. Jamie would see her blamed for these atrocities. The whispered accusations would flare again. The attacks were getting closer to Dunvegan.

Her stomach knotted.

She still had no idea how to find her ancestors to return the stone. Kara yearned for sleep and wished to wake up in her own century.

* * * *

Alaxandar found Ramsey saddling his horse. His trained movements Alaxandar knew only too well. MacLaren was lethal in warfare, born from untold years of forced survival. Even he didn't know everything his friend had faced, for Ramsey never spoke of it. "How long will ye be gone?"

"A day," was Ramsey's brisk reply.

"I dunna suppose asking ye to stay would matter."

"Nay."

Sighing, Alaxandar said, "Watch your back. These bastards be crafty."

"Aye." Ramsey hopped on his horse and rode away.

Alaxandar walked the battlements. Hopefully, Ramsey would find something. Despite the seriousness of these events his thoughts strayed to the winsome Kara Malone. He liked her feistiness. Desire and lust were constant companions since she'd appeared. Normally, he was always in control. That had not been the case of late. Disgusted, he went to find ale, a lot of ale.

* * * *

Kara was startled awake when the bed dipped. Pulling the sheet around her, she smelled alcohol-soaked breath as Alaxandar leaned in and touched her cheek.

"Dunna be frightened, 'tis me."

"What are you doing here so late?"

"I be going out o' me mind from wanting ye."

She sighed. "Alaxandar," she whispered. "You're drunk and I think the alcohol has saturated your brain. In the morning you won't remember this."

"I canna forget." He sat up again. "That be the problem." His fingers raked through his hair.

Kara raised to her knees and wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders, hugging him with the honest-to-God need of human touch. She laid her cheek against his head and rocked slightly to the side as she would a young child. She inched back and kissed his neck, tasting salty skin and inhaling his male scent. He held her hands in front of him and let her rock him before pulling her around his side and across his lap. His firm lips pressed against her mouth, their tongues danced around each other. Each contact upped the level of desire.

"I want to touch ye," he said in a slurred, husky voice.

Kara twisted her fingers in the front of his tunic. Her body yielded to sweet exploration with clumsy touches. Heartbeats were wild. It was hard to catch a breath. Even inebriated, Alaxandar knew right where to touch and stroke to melt her will.