Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Series) (21 page)

“I meant nothing,” she said quickly as she belted her waist and rushed out to greet her visitors.

Anna hastened toward her. “Saints preserve us, Brenna, what have you done to your hair?”

Brenna’s hands flew to her head. She had forgotten about her hair’s shocking new length. “I forgot my scarf. Forgive me,” she said, turning to the chieftain who was now flanked by Duncan. “Tis indecent,” she said.

“On the contrary,” Ronan smiled. “’Tis very becoming.”

“Indeed,” Bridget said as her hand reached out and brushed a curl from Brenna’s eyes. “It suits you, lass.” Then she quirked a brow at Duncan and said in a hushed voice for Brenna’s ears only. “It suits you very well.”

Brenna lowered her head to conceal her blush, but her composure returned easily. She faced her friends with confidence.

“Come,” she said, motioning toward the door. “Let us break our fast, and you can tell us why you’ve come.” But then she froze mid-step and turned, looking sharply at Bridget. “Have you any news? Do you yet ken who seeks Nellore?”

Bridget shook her head. “Nay, Brenna. We are here by Duncan’s request.”

Brenna looked at Duncan with surprise. “You said nothing.”

“I sent Liam to the keep yesterday with a message for the laird and his lady to join us this morning.” His eyes grew darker as he stepped closer. She could feel his heat and smell his musky scent. “Somehow, I forgot the invitation until I saw them descending the hill just now.”

She returned his smile before she cleared her throat and motioned to the table in the center of the room. “Please sit and be at rest. Anna, would you assist me with the morning meal.”

“It would be my pleasure”, Anna said. “I’ve missed our days together.”

***

Duncan’s eyes followed Brenna to her cooking table. The sway of her hips consumed his attention as he forgot everything except the feel of her silken skin and the free deliverance of her body and soul into his hands. His heart warmed with gratitude and disbelief.

Ronan cleared his throat, forcing Duncan back into the moment. The gravity of the current situation was not lost on him. Brenna and Nellore were not only his responsibility, they had become his life, and something or someone threatened that life. Once again, he looked at Brenna and then at Nellore who now sat cradled in Bridget’s arms—exquisite vulnerability that was his to protect.

“I must act, Ronan. I cannot wait idly by while a threat exists, a threat with unimaginable possibilities.”

“Aye,” Ronan agreed. “Regrettably, we ken so little.”

“Which is why we need to find this creature, this woman, before she does more harm than she already has.”

“We cannot call upon anyone else for aid. The scrutiny Nellore would be exposed to might be a danger almost as great as the threat itself,” Ronan said.

Duncan nodded. “Aye, which is why I’m grateful for your help, Ronan.”

Ronan tilted his head, motioning to Bridget. Her long, silver blonde hair and wide grey eyes laughed with delight as Nellore wrapped her little arms around Bridget’s neck. “Nellore is dear to my lady,” Ronan said, and Duncan knew what was dear to Bridget was dear to Ronan.

Duncan smiled with gratitude at Bridget. “Besides her mother, Nellore favors you above all others.”

Bridget’s smile grew so that her whole face was alight with joy. Duncan once again marveled at his lady’s strange beauty, which age had done little to diminish.

“’Tis because Bridget was the one who found Nellore,” Ronan said absently as he laughed at his wife’s antics.

“Of course that would explain their bond, which reminds me…I wanted to know the details of how you found Nellore. I’ve never heard the tale. Mayhap, it holds a clue,” Duncan said, turning expectant eyes on Bridget.

She only shrugged and said, “’Tis no matter. ‘Twas night, and I found her out on the moors.”

“Surely, there is more to the story, Bridget. You make it sound as though you were just out for a moonlit stroll and happened upon her, or is it your habit to wander the moors at night?”

“Nay, of course not,” Bridget replied. Then her eyes sought Duncan’s gaze and their grey depths brightened with silver light. “I knew she was out there,” she said in a low voice.

Duncan furrowed his brow as he considered her words. “How could you have known?”

“I am privy to no more information about the intruder than you, Duncan. I do not know who abandoned Nellore—whether it was her mother or someone who stole her away from her mother’s arms, and I do not know who torments them now. You need not be suspicious of me. I am a friend to this family and lady of this clan.”

Duncan felt Ronan’s scowl. He knew he was angering his laird, but he also knew Bridget was withholding information, which was unacceptable given the woman whom he loved and her child were at risk.

“Forgive me, Ronan and Bridget, but, my lady, I ask you again. How did you know Nellore had been abandoned?” Both Anna and Brenna now joined in staring at him, and he was not certain but he thought he discerned the slightest shake to Brenna’s head as though she was trying to tell him not to pursue his current line of questioning.

Bridget’s only reply was to look away. She would say no more.

“I do not accept secrets or deceit on a matter so dear to my heart,” Duncan snapped. “I am the protector of that child in your arms. She is my responsibility. I deserve to ken what you do.”

Bridget’s eyes darkened like melted steel as she slowly leaned toward him. “Do you really wish to know, Duncan, why I ken what I do?” A slight smile curved her lips as she continued in a whisper for his ears alone. “Why, for example, I know the secrets of your heart?”

Duncan felt a shiver course down his spine as Bridget’s eyes settled on Brenna. He did not know how Bridget knew his heart, but she did. Often had he marveled at her mysterious insight. He realized then the answer to Bridget’s question. Nay, he did not wish to know his lady’s secrets.

Ronan put his hand on the table in front of his wife, shielding her from Duncan’s gaze. Duncan did not miss the message in his laird’s stance.

“Forgive me, Bridget,” he said behind the large, solid bulk of his laird. “You are the kindest lady and mother to us all. Forgive my prying.”

Ronan once again took his seat. Bridget’s face shone with warmth and affection. “I love Brenna as fiercely as I do the daughters born of my body, and there are no words for the love I bear this child. You’ve done naught other than prove yourself worthy of your role.”

Duncan dipped his head in a gesture of respect just as Brenna placed a plate of hot oat cakes and fried herring on the table. Everyone ate their fill, but despite the good food and the fellowship they shared, the atmosphere remained grave. They were plagued by an unknown terror and would find no peace until the intruder was brought to task and Nellore’s safety assured.

After much debate, Ronan and Duncan decided the many caves carved into their isle’s rocky coast would begin their hunt. If someone was hiding outside the protection of a clan, a cave was the likeliest refuge.

When it was time for the men to depart, Brenna and Duncan walked together toward the stable.

“I am afraid, Duncan,” Brenna said, her voice distant as she stared out beyond her land to the strip of ocean, white with rough waves. “I feel as though something dreadful is going to happen.”

“Nay, Brenna,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. Her face burrowed against his neck, and she pressed into him.

He crooked a finger beneath her chin as he forced her to meet his gaze. “You are fierce, Brenna. As fierce as the tempests you love.” He kissed her again and then disappeared into the barn, emerging a moment later astride his horse. Reaching down, he pulled her across his lap. She lost herself in his black eyes and felt her strength come alive beneath their dark coaxing.

“I must go, Brenna.”

“Aye, I know,” she said, forcing her lips into a smile.

He began to lower her to the ground, but then his face suddenly tightened with urgency. “Brenna, there is something you must know. ‘Tis something I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”

She smiled again, pressing her finger to his lips. “The only matter of any importance to me at this moment is your safety and Nellore’s. The longer this threat remains, the greater the risk. Set me on my feet, and tell me the one thing I wish to hear.”

Although it seemed to pain him, he did as she bid.

She stared up at him. “Promise me you will return.”

“Aye, Brenna. I promise you,” he vowed.

“Then ride,” she said, backing out of the way.

He pulled up on the reins, his eyes still locked with hers. Then a hardness passed over his features as he kicked his heels into his horse’s flanks and sped off with Ronan at his side.

Brenna and Bridget stood arm in arm as they watched their men ride off toward the coast, disappearing behind a steep slope.

“A woman spends half her life watching her man gallop away into the distance,” Anna said as she joined them.

Bridget’s lips curved in a wistful smile. “Aye, but the thrill of watching them return almost makes their departure worth it.”

“I admire the love you and Ronan share,” Brenna said, “but is it worth the price? Do you ever miss being Shoney?”

Bridget shook her head. “I’ve never stopped being Shoney. ‘Tis Shoney that Ronan sees and Anna, and now I am blessed to share myself with you. But Shoney is only one of my names. I am also Bridget and mother and lady and healer. We all have many titles and roles, and ‘tis only when we celebrate them all that we find satisfaction.”

Bridget’s hand once again touched one of Brenna’s curls as it caught in the breeze. “You have made peace with yourself, Brenna. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I seemed to have let go of more than just my hair when I cut it. A part of me has always existed that I’ve silenced, not trusting the feelings. For better or worse, Duncan brings everything inside me to the surface—whether I wish him to or not.”

Bridget smiled. “Never deny who you are to those who will celebrate your truth. Life often demands concealment. ‘Tis a gift to be free in another’s company, Brenna.”

Brenna blushed when she remembered just how free she had been with Duncan only a matter of hours ago.

Bridget smiled knowingly as she took Brenna’s hand, guiding her back inside. “I told you these things had a way of working themselves out,” she said.

As the afternoon sun dipped in the sky, the ladies sat around the table with steaming mugs of mead made from burnt honey while Nellore napped.

“Did you forget to let your animals out for the day?” Anna asked as a din emanated from the barn.

Brenna jumped to her feet. “Aye,” she said. “The poor beasts.”

“Anna, watch over Nellore. I shall assist Brenna,” Bridget said.

Brenna started to refuse her lady’s aid, but Bridget sauntered past, heading toward the door. “Two sets of hands will finish the task faster.”

Brenna knelt by her daughter and brushed aside her soft curls, revealing a pink cheek, which she grazed with a kiss.

“You are my sweet lass,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes. Brenna looked to her friends. “Nothing can happen to her.”

“And nothing will,” Anna said, wrapping her arms around Brenna’s shoulders. “Now, go, and be quick before your sheep break down the doors saving you the trouble.”

As Brenna and Bridget approached the barn, Brenna was surprised by the din of the animals. The bleating of goats and sheep mingled with the rustle of wings from restless chickens.

“Good Lord,” Brenna exclaimed as she reached for the thick plank, barring the animals escape.

“Hold,” Bridget said. A shadow passed over the lady’s face as her eyes dimmed.

“What is it?” Brenna asked.

Moments past but still Bridget did not answer.

“Did you have a vision?” Brenna whispered.

Bridget’s eyes cleared as she turned to Brenna. “Nay,” she said. “’Twas a coldness that passed through me. Cut right to my bones and filled my lungs with winter’s chill.”

Brenna stared wide-eyed, apprehension sinking into her heart.

“Something is not right,” Bridget said. “Let us hurry and get back inside.”

Brenna nodded while she threw off the plank and swung the door wide. Her heart pounded as she fumbled with the rope that secured the goats’ pen, but finally it gave way and the animals rushed to the door. Then she turned to see Bridget open another gate, and the sheep poured forth from their stall.

“Shoo,” Brenna said. “Out the door with you.” The animals pushed against the door, but it did not yield.

“It must be stuck on something,” Brenna said as she waded through the animals.

“Bloody move,” she heard Bridget shout behind her at one of the largest sheep who refused to give way.

Brenna turned back around to offer Bridget her hand when a muffled scream filled the air. Their eyes met, mirroring terror.

“Anna…” Bridget said.

“Nellore,” Brenna said as panic gripped her heart. She charged toward the door driven by desperation, heedless of the beasts she shoved aside. Her body slammed into wood, but it did not budge.