Tess and the Highlander (7 page)

“That just shows you that I am much smarter than
Makyn.”

Tess tried to not be affected by his low rumble of
laughter, by his warm breath caressing her ear.

“Makyn is still nervous. We need to approach her
very slowly and quietly.”

“Do they all have a name?”

“Only the animals that I decide to keep.”

“Very insightful. The thought of having a ‘David’
skewered and roasting over the fire is not very appetizing.”

“It could be worse.”

“How?”

Tess moved away from him. “We could have a ‘Colin’
roasting over the fire.”

“In that case, I feel much, much safer having a
name.”

“And another thing, you should remember that in
approaching sheep, never look at them directly.”

He was beside her again. “Very well.”

Tess felt his hand take hold of hers. Stunned
momentarily, she turned and looked at him.

His eyes were sparkling with mischief. “I thought it
might be helpful for you to look at
me
as
we approach her.”

He was simply too handsome for her comfort. “And why
should I want to do such a thing?”

He shrugged. His smile was warm enough to melt
through a sea fog. “Perhaps because I enjoy looking at you.”

“And why should
you
want to do such a
thing?”

“You are beginning to ask far too many questions.”
He shook his head. “You might pick up my good habits…and not just
the bad ones.”

“You have good habits?”

“Some,” he said softly, his blue eyes searching
hers.

Tess’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she felt
his gaze brush over her face. In sheer panic, she took a half step
back.

“I…I think Makyn is calm enough now for…for us to
tend to her.”

Colin’s eyes had turned a smoky blue—almost gray—and
Tess felt her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn’t sure what he
intended to do, or what it was that she
wanted
. Stopping,
though, seemed to be the best course.

He seemed to read her thoughts, and his friendly
smile returned. “Very well. You lead and I’ll follow…or just tell
me what to do.”

“I’ll catch and hold her. You spread the salve on
her feet. Or we can do it the other way around, if you like.”

Of course, she could have done the whole thing by
herself, but she suddenly didn’t want him to go away.

“I don’t think my stomach will allow me to get too
close to that cauldron. Tell me what to do, and I’ll catch
her.”

She took him by the elbow and brought him a little
closer to Makyn. “Without looking at her, get a bit nearer. When
she is within your reach, quickly reach out and grab the wool under
her chin. Just tip the head upward. This will keep her off balance
and easy to hold. Now if she turns her back to you, just grab her
by the rear flank.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll bring
the medicine to you.”

As Tess went for the cauldron, she could hear the
muttered curses erupt from the Highlander, followed by a loud
complaint from Makyn. When she turned around, she almost laughed
aloud at the sight of man and sheep tangled together on the ground
by the wall.

“I don’t know which of us is winning this battle,”
Colin muttered when she settled beside them. “But please make sure
you put that foul faerie brew on the
sheep’s
foot.”

“Hmm…but ‘tis so easy to mistake one for the other.”
She started rubbing the salve on Makyn’s front hooves first.
Teasing, she reached for one of his boots.

“If,” he said sharply, “you want any of those
precious shells of yours left intact, you won’t even
think
about putting any of that on me.”

“Do you mean the shells that you have already
crushed by the hundreds?”

“There are a few left, I believe.” He sat the ewe
back on her hindquarters so Tess could tend the back feet.
“Actually, there is something soothing about the soft crunching
noise these shells make when I…”

His blue eyes widened as Tess held the salve up
before his face.

“I am done with Makyn. You must be next.”

Though the storm’s force had lessened somewhat, the
wind continued to lash at the island. It wouldn’t be long though,
Colin thought darkly, before his brother’s ship reappeared.

He worked alongside of Tess as she went about her
chores, tending the animals, drawing water from the well inside the
priory walls. She was capable and beautiful. Yet she was quick to
discourage any advances he might make. Though he was not entirely
surprised, given the lack of society here on the island, it was
still somewhat disconcerting for him. To have a woman shy away from
his touch was not something Colin was accustomed to.

Oddly, though, Tess’s gentle rebuffs only managed to
entice him more, for he knew it was not a coy game she was playing.
She was as genuine as the sea was deep.

“Thank you for bringing this wood up from the
strand.”

Colin straightened after stacking the last of it
inside the door. She had just come down the stairs. “‘Tis enough,
do you think?”

“So long as you don’t start another fire in the yard
as great as the first night. What a waste of wood!”

He smiled. “’Twas a grand trick to draw you out,
wouldn’t you say?”

“I shouldn’t be bragging about that too
much…considering you’re still trapped on the May with me and no way
off.” She brushed past him and went outside.

‘Trapped’ wasn’t the word he’d have used. If she
only knew. Actually, he was beginning to think this arrangement was
not bad, at all. Still smiling, Colin followed her into the
yard.

“What’s next?”

“Usually Garth would be turning over the garden
about this time of year.”

“How long ago did he die?”

“December. Little more than a fortnight after
Charlotte.” A deep blush immediately crept up her cheeks, and Colin
saw Tess’s gaze turn warily to him.

She had blundered again and told him more than she
had meant to. If Garth and Charlotte were the old keepers, then
Tess was totally alone. He turned away, looking absently at the
ruined buildings that stood within the priory walls.

Concern for her slipped unexpectedly into his chest
like the blade of a dagger. What was going to happen to her when
the Macpherson ship came back for him? He frowned at the skies with
the broken clouds scudding across occasional patches of blue.
Determined not to press her for answers that she was obviously not
ready to give, he turned back to her with a smile. Reaching out, he
tucked a wind-whipped, silken lock of hair behind her delicate
ear.

“Would you show me around the priory before the rain
starts again?”

Tess gave a small nod and turned toward the ruined
buildings surrounding them.

“Sailing past the island, you never get a feeling
that this place is even livable.”

“Is this what you do? Are you a sailor?”

“I suppose I am.” If he wanted her to trust him
enough to answer his questions, Colin knew he needed to set the
precedent. “I have sailed on Macpherson ships for as long as I can
remember. I have traveled from the Orkneys to Africa. But up to
now, I’ve been more student than sailor.” He glanced out at the
stormy sea. “But now that I am finished at the university, I
suppose you can say I’m a sailor.”

Tess pulled the hood of her cloak up. The wind—wet
and cold—was picking up. She started toward the building Colin
guessed had been the original church. A long ago fire had taken the
roof and the door was gone. Looking in, he could see a chancel with
a stone altar at the far end. He could almost envision gray-robed
monks chanting their prayers there. The end wall was half gone, as
well, and several gray and white sea birds were perched on the
bottom ledge of an arched stone opening that had once undoubtedly
held a stained-glass window.

Her voice broke into his thoughts. “May I ask how
old you are?”

“Twenty.”

“You’ve accomplished so much already.”

“Would you tell me how old
you
are?”

She paused first, but then answered.
“Seventeen.”

“Seeing how well you take care of yourself and
everything around here, I should say
you
have accomplished
quite a bit.”

“’Tis hardly the same,” she whispered.

He saw the flash of sadness in her eyes. “Why do you
stay here?”

“This is my home…where I belong.”

“But you were not born here.” He held her gaze when
she looked up at him, startled by his words. “Tess, I told you I
have sailed these waters. For as long as I can recall, there was
never any word of the old keeper and his wife having any
children.”

“I have been here a long time. If no one knew about
me, that is because these good people were trying to protect me.
They were afraid of what might happen to me if people knew I was
here—the sailors of passing ships…or the fishermen from the
mainland…or even the occasional pilgrims coming here during the
warmer weather. Auld Charlotte and Garth wanted to keep me
safe.”

“I am not questioning what they did. What I am
wondering is where you came from. Who is your family?”

She moved away from him without answering, and Colin
followed, fighting back his frustration. At least she was no longer
trying to feed him stories about her family being out fishing in
storm-tossed seas. He caught up to her.

“With Garth and Charlotte gone, how will you stay
here all by yourself? What if you should fall ill? or break an arm
climbing the cliffs for birds eggs? or slip on one of those damned
shells and crack your head open?”

She turned her back to him. He wasn’t giving up,
though, and moved around her. “What the keeper and his wife were
concerned about before is nothing compared to what you should fear
right now. You are a beautiful young woman, Tess. Do you have any
idea of the dangers that…”

“Do you
want
to see this priory or
not
?”

Temper had moved in with the speed of a Highland
storm, altering her mood immediately. Colin knew he needed to
restrain himself from pressing on his argument until she understood
her dilemma. At the same time, he understood her stubbornness…and
her desire for independence.

He nodded resignedly, knowing full well that they
were far from done with this argument. The wind seemed much
stronger as Tess walked away from the cluster of buildings and led
him to the middle of the old cemetery. Looking about him, beyond
the walls, Colin couldn’t help but be affected by the wildness and
the beauty of the terrain—so much like the young woman who stood
beside him.

“For such a small island, there are a lot of
graves.”

“Garth told me that more than one person is buried
in many of the graves,” she answered.

“How did he know?”

“In his years here he had to bury a number of
pilgrims who died of their illnesses while visiting. He told me it
was common to dig and find two, or three bodies buried in the small
grave with only a layer of shell sand separating them.” Tess stayed
to the grassy path. “A few years back, I came upon some record
books in the old chapter house. I believe the monks who lived here
before left them. They are accounts of births and deaths on the
Isle of May going back some three hundred years.”

The rugged terrain seemed too uninhabitable. “’Tis
hard to believe families actually lived here.”

“I don’t believe any families did live here,” she
answered, turning her back to the wind and facing him. “Not for any
length of time, anyway. For all the years I looked back through in
the books, there was only a record of one birth, and that was
immediately followed by the woman’s and the child’s death. But
there were many, many deaths. I think most of the pilgrims who came
to visit St. Adrian’s chapel and monastery were very ill. Some
might have been cured and left here. But many died and were buried
on the island. The accounts of it seem to have stopped, though,
when the last of the monks was recalled to the mainland. Or perhaps
he died, too, because no one took the books with them.”

Tess continued to talk, but Colin’s mind was focused
on what she had said about reading the account books.
Reading
. Not many families in Scotland taught their
daughters to read and write. The puzzle of her past continued to
intrigue him. He doubted that Garth and Charlotte would have been
able to read.

As a light rain started to fall, they headed back
toward the huddle of ruined buildings.

“Does the Crown own the island now?”

“Nay, I remember Charlotte saying that St. Andrew’s
Cathedral Priory has held it for more than a century. Not that they
are doing anything about it.”

“But they were the ones who sent the husband and
wife here, didn’t they?”

“Aye.” Instead of going back inside, she turned her
steps toward the sheep.

Colin followed. “Don’t you think they should be told
that Garth and Charlotte have passed away?”

“I am doing everything that they were doing. The
place is not getting any worse because of me.” Tess searched among
the sheep.

“I am not being critical of your abilities. What I
am trying to say is that a big part of the keeper’s job had to do
with taking care of the pilgrims that come here in the better
weather.”

He watched Tess crouch before the ewe lying in the
grass.

“What are you going to do when people arrive looking
for food and shelter? You told me yourself that most of them are
very ill. Now, how are you going to help them when you are hiding
in some cave across the island?” He didn’t give her a chance to
answer. “And if you
were
to show your face and try to help
them, how long do you think it will take before the news reaches
the abbot at St. Andrew’s?”