My Seductive Highlander (22 page)

Lilia yanked the shoulder straps off her backpack. She secured the boy's ankles together with one of the straps, pulling the nylon material tight and resealing the hook-and-loop closures. Shoving him over until his hands were behind his back, she tied his wrists together, then pulled that strap down to the one tied around his ankles. She lashed them snug until the unconscious youth was lying bent backward with his hands locked to his heels.

Pulling her cloth headband out of the bag's side pocket, she wrapped the cloth around a small pinecone, knotting it in the center of the strip. She forced the wadded cloth in between the boy's teeth and tied it snug at the back of his head.

There. That'll slow you down.
Between her knotwork and the helluva headache he was going to have, even if he did come around in the next hour or so, it would take him a while to sound the alarm. Almost as an afterthought, Lilia discreetly settled the boy's plaid over the prized part that had kept him occupied while she took aim.
Poor guy. No sense adding insult to injury.

And now for the horses.
Lilia took a deep breath, calming herself as much as possible. She didn't need to transmit her anxiety to the animals. Walking toward them with her hand held palm up, she kept her tone low and soothing. “Hello, my friends. Ready for a bit of a run?”

Both horses studied her, each of them flicking an ear in interest. Lilia untied the smaller of the two from the rope strung between two tall pines and attached the ruddy-coated mare to the back of the much larger stallion's saddle. She made sure there was enough slack in the reins between the two horses before guiding them over to the limestone boulder beside their still unconscious caretaker.

Using the large rock to boost herself up, Lilia launched herself onto the back of the great black brute, settling comfortably in the well-worn saddle. This horse reminded her of Odin. “I hope you've got my friend's stamina and speed,” she said softly as she kneed him forward.

The slack went out of the reins between the two horses and Lilia's mount stopped. She looked back, her heart panging at the sight of the chestnut mare nosing the young man while softly grumbling as though telling him to rise. It was obvious the horse cared for the boy but it couldn't be helped. She didn't dare leave a horse behind for the men. Lilia gently but firmly pulled the reins while at the same time urging the black stallion forward.

The reluctant horse finally took a few steps then stopped again, flicked her ears at Lilia, then looked back at the young man lying just behind her. Deathly still, the pale boy looked an eerie blue-white by the light of the rising moon.

Before Lilia could pull on the reins again, the mare hiked her tail. An avalanche of steaming turds splatted and bounced across the ground, coming to rest in a well-aimed pile plastered up against the unconscious lad's head. The horse bobbed her nose in an up-and-down wave, swished her tail, then trotted past Lilia and the stallion, taking the lead as far as her reins would allow.

Hmm…I guess you don't like him as much as I thought.

Lilia hurried the horses quietly away from the camp, keeping them to the silence of the pine-needled woods. With one last glance back, she barely made out the dark outline of the still form against the moonlit backdrop of the limestone boulder. “Sweet dreams, Carrot-Top,” she whispered.

Clearing the woods and heading to higher ground, Lilia urged the horses to a faster pace. She had a lot of ground to cover in very little time.

Generous splashes of cool spring water helped to wash the grit and weariness from her eyes. Lilia soused her extra T-shirt into the brook, wrung it out, then draped the damp twisted cloth across the back of her neck. She pulled in a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. Where was Graham now? How was he? What were those bastards doing to him?

Stop it. You're gonna work yourself into a panic.
She reached down and splashed more water on her face. Stretching tall, she rolled her shoulders, working the knots out of her muscles. Hours of riding coupled with mounting tension had wound her tighter than a steel coil.

Downstream a few feet, both horses sloshed in the shallows of the softly gurgling stream, drinking long and deep from the clear crystal flow. She'd hated to stop but she'd pushed the animals hard. If she didn't give them some rest, she'd soon find herself walking.

From the position of the sun, it had to be barely past noon. Maybe. Lilia shaded her eyes, studying the azure sky streaked with wisps of white. She wished she'd listened closer the last time Granny had explained figuring time and direction using only the tools provided by nature.

Lilia felt pretty certain of where she was because she and Odin had explored the Highlands many times. She'd also ridden through them during brief visits back to the past to see Granny and her sisters. The Highlands she knew the best were the mountains and glens of twenty-first-century Scotland. But amazingly—not that much had changed. The biggest difference she noticed was the absence of asphalt roads.

Moving to a better position to see past the sparse hedging of trees growing along each side of the creek, Lilia studied the area. Thankfully she was still very much alone. No sign of any rogue Buchanans hot on her trail, nor had she come across the ones holding Graham and Angus prisoner. She'd specifically kept to the higher elevations to avoid catching up with the Buchanans. She intended to rescue Graham and Angus but it was futile to go against a dozen or so men by herself.

I'm good but I'm not that damn good.
A wistful sigh escaped her.
Please let him be okay.
She swallowed hard and scrubbed her knuckles against the center of her chest. She ached to have this over and done. Graham's rescue had to end well. It just had to.

Shaking free of her fears, Lilia made note of the growing harshness of the landscape to her left and the direction of the stream, then she turned to her right and squinted up at the sun again. “Good. That's west and from the looks of those cliffs, the keep isn't much farther.”

Both horses lifted their heads and looked at her.

“Sorry, guys. Talking to myself.” For some strange reason, talking out loud made her feel better. Lilia huffed out a bitter laugh. “Gotta keep myself centered somehow.”

Pulling in another deep breath and blowing it out hard and fast, Lilia firmly shut down, once and for all, the sickening
what ifs
playing through her mind. She refused to acknowledge anything other than a successful rescue. Period.

Moving back to the shelter of the trees, she took some comfort from the fact that the lay of the land was looking more and more familiar.
I'm positive I've ridden through here before.
She was now on MacKenna land and should reach the keep well before nightfall.

A subtle movement in the branches of a nearby tree caught her attention. Lilia moved closer, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight flickering through the shifting foliage.

An owl. A white owl at that, perched high up in the branches and peering down at her with great dark eyes. Around one ankle, barely visible beneath the tufts of pearly white feathers and almost brushing the owl's powerful talons, was tied a ribbon. A purple ribbon.

Lilia smiled. Purple was her niece Chloe's favorite color. The owl was her guardian, Oren. She must be closer to the keep than she thought.

“It's good to see you, Oren.”

The owl spread his wings, silently launched out of the tree, and floated down to a closer branch just above Lilia's shoulder. He primly settled himself more comfortably, turned his head to gaze southwestward for a long moment, then swiveled his attention back to Lilia and slowly blinked.

“I really wish you could talk,” she said.

The owl looked southwestward again, then turned and stared back at Lilia.

“What are you looking at?” Lilia shifted, aligning herself with the owl's line of sight and looking in the direction he seemed to find so interesting. The tightness knotting her shoulders eased exponentially.

Two riders, one tall in the saddle with long, dark hair in a flowing ponytail and the other so tiny as to be almost hidden behind the great horse's head and neck. And what from this distance looked like a half-grown black bear lumbering along in a gamboling run beside the pair of horses. Trulie, Chloe, and Karma.

Lilia vaulted across the shallow stream, waving both arms as she cleared the trees. “Trulie! Chloe! Over here!”

Karma sounded off with a deep baying bark that echoed across the land. He kept up the happy racket as he stretched into the fastest lope his huge body could muster. He plowed into her at full speed, knocking her down with happy yips and well-placed slobbery kisses.

“Oh, Karma, please…stop,” Lilia giggled, twisting and turning to keep from getting her face thoroughly washed. “I've missed you too.”

“Auntie Lil! Auntie Lil!” Chloe's ecstatic squeal made “Auntie Lil” sound like one long Gaelic word meaning “pure delight.” “Get me down, Mama, 'fore Karma gets all the kisses.”

Trulie dismounted, hurried around the horses, and held up her arms. “Jump, kiddo.”

Without a moment's hesitation, Chloe jumped, then wiggled free of her mother's protective hold and hit the ground running. She flew across the short distance, dodged Karma's wagging tail, then nudged the big dog out of the way with an impatient bump of her tiny hip. “My turn, Karma. Move.”

The huge beast immediately complied, sidestepping out of her way. He plopped down on his haunches, his long red tongue hanging out one side in an open-mouthed doggy smile.

“I've missed you, munchkin!” Lilia grabbed up Chloe, closing her eyes as she hugged the child tight.

Chloe squirmed free, smiling up into Lilia's face. “I told Mama ye were here but she didna believe me.” Lightly patting a pudgy hand against Lilia's cheek, Chloe barely nodded, her knowing expression chillingly identical to the look Granny always assumed when one of her plots had come to fruition. “Dinna fash o'er much, Auntie Lil. 'Tis all gonna be just fine. I promise.”

Lilia looked up at Trulie, a mix of emotions raking their claws across her already raw nerves. “Just how accurate is she?”

“She hasn't been wrong yet.” Trulie gently guided Chloe to one side and helped Lilia up from the ground, pulling her into a hug that nearly cracked her ribs.

Trulie finally released her, stepped back, and held her at arm's length. Lilia could see the moisture misting in her sister's eyes. She understood completely. This visit to the past was different. A lot more was at stake.

Clearing her throat with a light cough, Trulie gently squeezed Lilia's shoulders then slowly let her hands fall away. She looked down at Chloe, then gently cupped her daughter's chin in her hand. “Granny says she's never seen the sight so strong in one so young. But she must learn when to speak of what she's seen and when to keep her mouth shut—for her own safety.”

“Auntie Lil would ne'er hurt me,” Chloe defended with an imperious bob of her dark head. Her wild abandon of springy curls bounced as though affirming her statement. “She's not one o' them infernal witch-huntin' bastards.”

“Chloe!” Trulie's eyes flared wide in shock.

Lilia bit her lower lip, holding her breath to keep from laughing.

“You do not talk like that. You know better.” Trulie rolled her eyes and blew out a weary groan. With a frustrated shake of her head, she turned back to Lilia. “She spends entirely too much time with her father and Colum.”

“Ye said it too.” Chloe edged closer and hugged one arm around Lilia's leg, the slyly innocent look on her face a dead giveaway to what she was doing. “So does Granny and Auntie Kenna. Tha's why I called Rabbie an irritatin' bastard when he wouldna leave m'dolls be.”

“When we get back to the keep, you and I are going to have a long chat that you're going to remember this time.” Trulie pointed toward the stream. “Lead the horses over for a drink. Karma will help you. I'm not happy with you and it would be best if you did as you're told and stayed quiet for a bit before I decide to heat up your tail right here in front of Auntie Lil.”

Chloe's shoulders slumped and her lower lip quivered. “Aye, Mama.” Without another word, she shuffled back to the horses, scooped up their reins, and headed toward the stream.

Trulie turned back to Lilia but her irritated glare was still fixed on her daughter. “Granny says her curse worked. I have given birth to a child who acts just like I did when I was that age. Beware if you and Graham have children.”

“I have to save him first.” Lilia's voice broke. She blinked hard and fast against the tears she'd been holding back ever since Graham's capture. “If I can't get him back from the Buchanans, there won't be any children.”

“What?” Mouth ajar, Trulie stared at her, Chloe's indiscretions immediately forgotten.

“The Buchanans found us and captured Graham and Angus.”

Trulie held up both hands, fingers widespread as though to catch Lilia's words and slow them down. “Captured? Wait. Go back and start at the beginning. When we talked to you through the fire portal, you said you were coming back to spread Eliza's ashes but we wouldn't get to see you this time because Graham insisted on coming with you. You didn't want to cause any trouble with the clan and risk being discovered. The three of you were just going to pop in then pop right back out. How did the Buchanans find you? Their lands lie south of here.”

Lilia could still hear the squat disgusting man's words. They were permanently branded into her mind. “Spies.” She turned and looked for Chloe. The child had found a stick and was stirring it in the creek. “The ringleader said the Buchanan chieftain had placed spies in MacKenna Keep. They must've discovered my plans. I don't remember for sure but I think I told Granny where we'd enter.”

“Son of a bitch,” Trulie whispered, her brow creasing with a scowl. Eyes narrowed, she stared off in space, one finger thoughtfully tapping her chin.

Lilia took hold of Trulie's arm and squeezed it. “I don't have time to figure out how they found us. I need Gray's help. His men. The whole fucking clan would be even better. We've got to get Graham and Angus back before they reach Buchanan Keep.” A sudden sense of time slipping away felt like a red-hot iron burning through her chest. She needed them to weapon up and ride out to save Graham now.

Trulie looked at her with an expression that chilled her to the bone. A sense of sadness, even hopelessness, emanated from her like a toxic shadow.

Lilia stepped back, forcing her empathic senses back on lockdown—a rare thing for her to have to do when around her family. She couldn't handle anything else right now. She was already in emotional overload. “What?”

“I don't know that Gray will do that.” Trulie barely shook her head. “The clan heard his pledge in the hall—that if Graham returned from exile, he'd be turned over to the Buchanans. You know what a chieftain's word means to his clan. Gray has no choice.”

“I don't give a damn what the clan thinks. You know what they're going to do to Graham.” Lilia hitched back a sob. No tears—not now. “They'll torture him, Trulie. Kill him slowly to make sure he suffers. You know that.”

“I know,” Trulie whispered, turning away.

“What would you do if it was Gray?” Lilia grabbed Trulie by the shoulder and forced her sister to face her. “Tell me, Trulie. What would you do?”

Trulie set her jaw, lifted her head, and locked an unblinking gaze on Lilia. “I'd move heaven and earth to get him back. I'd do whatever it took.”

“Then help me.” Lilia squeezed Trulie's arm tighter. “Please…help me.”

Trulie's scowl softened. Her attention shifted to a point past Lilia's shoulder. A faint smile curled up one corner of her mouth. “If I can't convince Gray to help, Granny can figure out an angle he won't be able to refuse.” Then she looked back at Lilia. “And if Granny fails, there's always my secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?”

Trulie pointed at her daughter. “Chloe.”