Highlander's Challenge (15 page)

She clamped her eyes closed.
I must have left my brain
back in the twenty-first century.

"I brought you something to break your fast, Ian. 'Tis hoping you have a healthy appetite, I am," Elspeth said, bustling into the room. She placed a tray by his side upon the bed and clasped her hands beneath her ample bosom. "My, you look fine. No doubt due tae Amelia's skilled hand." 139

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"Yes, she is very skilled at healing, and other things," Ian said with a wink.

"Ach, you rascal. You aught not be teasing her after she's taken such good care of you."

She chuckled. "It's okay, Elspeth. I give up. He's got sex on the brain."

Elspeth blushed furiously while Ian laughed. A noise, a bellow actually, caught Tuck's ear and she turned toward the window. Stepping into the small shaft of sunlight, she looked down into the bailey. MacLean stood in the center, yelling something, while everyone around him scurried to do his biding. He looked like a general. Waving toward the lists, he marched across the courtyard, pulled his claymore, and began a mock battle with one of his men.

A soft sigh slipped unbidden from her lips as she watched him wield the hefty steel. He was all man and then some. Remembering his words about not getting his head bashed in, she looked over her shoulder at where Elspeth sat beside Ian, happily spooning some sort of oatmeal into him.

"Think he'll get his head bashed in?" she asked. Elspeth shuddered, nearly toppling Ian's breakfast to the floor.

Tuck grimaced at her blunder. "Ah, geez, I'm sorry, Elspeth."

The woman shook her head.

Ian took her quivering hand and kissed it. "There, there, my sweet. You know as well as I, that nothing will happen to Colin." He grinned broadly. "The man simply won't allow it." 140

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A grim smile on her face, Elspeth rose. "I pray you are right, Ian. I pray you are right," she said then disappeared from the room.

"I didn't mean to spit it out like that," Tuck grumbled. He sighed. "'Tis not your fault. The woman loves Colin as though he were her own son and has loved his father for years, but the old man has never noticed. Now, 'tis too late for them. Colin tells me his father is dying." She took a deep breath. "I know, but still, I didn't have to put my foot in my mouth. I just wish I could—" Tuck let the words die in her throat. These people weren't her responsibility.

Ian pinned his thoughtful gaze on her. "You should be out there training those men. Your added skill would be a great advantage."

"You're off your nut if you think those men would listen to a word I have to say. I'm just a woman, remember?" Turning back to the window, she crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the wall, watching their impressive show of strength. A good group of men, but they used only brute force to overwhelm their opponent. A quick way to wear yourself out and lose your edge. Then again, that's how the other clan would fight. They knew nothing of martial arts and they didn't have a foray of techno dreams to take out the enemy from a distance.

Still, remembering Colin's skill in the woods, his ability to track her when she'd been pegged as "the ghost" in her last platoon, spoke volumes. His determination to bear his clan's 141

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problems, to protect them all was the noblest thing she'd ever seen.

"They don't make men like that anymore," she whispered, riveted by his swordsmanship.

"You are more than a woman, Amelia." Pulled from her thoughts, she shot Ian a look over her shoulder.

"Tuck," he said sheepishly. "You are also a warrior."

"It won't work," she said, shaking her head. He grinned ruefully with a soft sigh. "You are so like him. Stubborn to the core. I have seen you battle. You cannot deny your skill. Do you think I received this wound by chance or poor swordsmanship?"

He rubbed his shoulder. "Hardly, dear heart. I was indeed distracted. Stunned to be precise. The way in which you avoided a fatal blow from behind and swept to your feet, held me in awe. I have never seen a man, so I assumed you to be at the time, move so swiftly and gracefully. It caught me quite unawares. Thusly, I received this blow for my moment of vacillation."

"Okay, I'll admit that I can fight, but that doesn't make me a teacher."

"Any knowledge you could provide would be of help." He paused, a soft hum rumbling deep in his chest. "I wonder where they obtained the extra men. The two clans have always been somewhat equal in size." She shrugged, trying not to show her interest, but this was how she made her living. Explore and extrapolate the 142

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enemy's strategies and discover their weaknesses. Prepare for all possibilities, train to fight, and fight to win.

"Recruitment," she said, unable to remain silent on the subject.

"Not likely. The only others on this island are MacLeans or a relative of sorts."

"What about the mainland or another island?" His brow shot up. "The idea has merit. Banding with another clan would give them the upper hand, and yet the question that remains unanswered is why? What would they have to gain?"

"Do you really have to ask? People want only one thing in this world. Power. The more they have the more they want, and so on."

"A rather cynical view, and one I do not wholly agree with, but you have a point. If the MacKenzies have decided they want the entire island to themselves, they've chosen the only way to obtain it. A clan war, a decisively one-sided war if they have in fact found an ally, and if so who? And what are they offering in exchange for this alliance?" He paused with a soft chuckle. "You know, I rather like this discussion. I do not believe I have ever had such an intelligent conversation with a woman in my life." The corner of her mouth quirked up as she shook her head. "That's because you have only one thing on your mind when you're with a woman. I just happen to be immune to it, leaving you no alternative but to find something else to do." He nodded sagely. "You have a point. But I do not believe you are immune to my charms. I think you've simply found 143

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what you want. And when a woman with your determination makes up her mind about something, there is little I or anyone else can do about it. I do know how to be a pragmatist, when the situation calls for it. Now, as for training the men..."

She shook her head, her gaze still on MacLean. "This isn't my fight, Ian."

"But 'tis yours, if you truly want him." Her head snapped around with his words. "Me and Sasquatch?" she snorted.

"Although my heart is sadly broken, a state I may never recover from..." He pressed a hand to his chest, so full of drama, she nearly laughed. "I honestly think the two of you make a good match. A formidable laird with a rather formidable lady by his side."

She touched his forehead, making a big show of searching for a fever. "What did Elspeth slip into your food?" He sighed. "Very well, I shall leave the topic alone. For now."

"Glad to hear it."

She turned back to watch the men train, doing her damnedest not to let his crazy talk get to her. Even she hadn't let her silly daydreams get that far. Admiration, respect, a little female appreciation for the masculine form, and maybe a few warm twitters in her gut, okay a freakin'

bonfire, but that was it. The idea of them together was ludicrous.

But isn't MacLean the reason you're still here?
A voice whispered in the back of her mind.

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"Christ," she growled.

Her ridiculous stomach acrobatics had sabotaged her brain, sucking every ounce of common sense right out of her head. For hours she'd lain awake the previous night rethinking her plans, finding more and more ludicrous reasons to postpone her escape, never once admitting she wanted to stay because of that irritating ogre.

She had to get back to Jenny, which meant she had a spring to find. Spinning on her heels, she marched to the door.

"You have a fierce look about you, dear heart. What are you going to do?" he asked.

"My job."

She slammed the door closed behind her, turned on her guard, and punched him dead in the nose. He sprawled out nicely on the stone floor. "Sorry, Michael." Shaking her hand to relieve some of the pain, she strode toward her room to retrieve the rest of her things. It was time to leave never-never land.

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Michael rushed across the bailey holding his nose and came to a dust stirring halt before Colin.

"The woman, she's gone," he sputtered behind his bloodied fist.

A snort, followed by several small bouts of laughter, sounded around them, but Colin ignored it. Eyeing the lad carefully, he asked, "What do you mean, she's gone? And what happened tae your nose?"

"She caught me unawares," he said, his eyes darting to the side as the choked laughter grew. "She must have had a bit of stone in her hand or such," he muttered.

"By the saints, not again." Colin rubbed his hand down his face, wearier than he should be for so early in the day.

"Where was she last?"

"With Master Southernland."

He ignored the sudden knot in his stomach. The fact that she'd spent so much time in Ian's room was of no concern. She was tending his wound and nothing more. But his thoughts continued conjuring heated images in the back of his mind.

Michael's voice, full of remorse, snatched him back from his silent brooding.

"I have searched the entire keep and canna find a trace of her. She's vanished," the young man said with awe. Renewed mutterings about kelpies and deviltry, her strange dress, and her odd manner of speech, and something about a witch's dance, circulated among the men. If he didn't 146

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put a stop to this idle gossip, there would be no end to their foolish fears.

He knew her to be a woman, his lust for her was proof of that, but moreover, he didn't believe in kelpies and the like. His aunt may often times know things, see things, but he refused to believe there were creatures roaming about the earth with nothing more than mischief on their minds. He'd seen too much in his travels to believe such childishness. Nevertheless, the lass had managed to turn Highland warriors into a band of sniveling children muttering of witches and fearing their own shadows.

"Enough!" he bellowed.

The garrison fell still.

He pointed to Michael, still holding his nose. "Come with me."

Gritting his teeth, Colin stormed back inside the keep with murder on his mind. It was a sad day when one of his men was so easily overcome by a woman. He knew her to be stealthy, her ability to turn back on him in the wood without his knowledge was proof of that, but in broad daylight?

"Elspeth!" He stomped his way through the great hall toward the kitchens.

His aunt bustled out of the larder, wiping her hands on an apron draped around her plentiful hips. "Stop your bellowing before you bust a gullet."

He glowered down at her. "Where is she?"

"She who?"

His voice laden with grit, he said, "None of your nonsense, woman. Where is she?"

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"Dinnae woman me, Colin MacLean. I changed your nappies and swatted your behind. And I'll swat your behind again, if it needs doing."

He sighed and looked to the ceiling. "Tuck. Where is she?" He refused to call her by her given name, the sound of it silently torturing his mind and tongue.

"If you mean Amelia, in her room, I imagine." She glanced around him to Michael and grinned. "Ach, I see now. Well, then I suppose the wee lass has left." She straightened, clasping her hands in front of her as she gave him her sternest look. "No thanks tae your hospitality, I'm sure. Keeping the lass under guard," she said with a shake of her head. "Ashamed, I am."

"That
wee lass
has been nothing but trouble since the moment I laid eyes on her. And once I find her, she'll get the beating she deserves."

She laughed softly, a teasing gleam in her eye. "
If
you find her." Turning, she waved Michael onto a bench. "Sit, lad and let me tend your nose. I'll warrant there's no real damage. Amelia's not the kind tae hurt you overmuch."

"What do you know of her? Tell me," Colin snapped. She glanced at him, where he stood seething. "She has traveled a long way. I'm thinking she was homesick, although she wouldna say as much."

"She's a kelpie," Michael muttered, his eyes wide. "Ouch!"

"That'll teach you tae talk that way about dear sweet Amelia. She's no kelpie, and I'll not be hearing anymore of that," she said, a determined frown on her face. 148

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"I dinnae think she's a kelpie nor a witch," Fiona said, easing up beside his aunt with a clean damp cloth. "She's far too nice tae be such a thing. I like her verra much." Colin glowered down at her, not believing his ears.
Nice?

That woman had bewitched the entire keep. He looked back to his aunt. "Did you see anything that would help me find the taupie?"

She cocked her head, as she took the cloth from Fiona and dabbed more gently at Michael's nose. "'Tis too far for you tae travel, I'm sure. And there was water. Bright and clean it was."

His head ached with her vague reply. "'Tis all?" She nodded and continued tending his guardsman. With a growl to match his growing frustration, he spun around and stormed the stairs to Ian's room, hoping he had some real knowledge of where the woman had gone. He'd had more than enough babble to last him for some time.

"Water," he muttered, steadily climbing the stone steps.

"Too far tae travel," he snorted softly. No land was too far to travel to find that shrew and bring her back. He stopped, his left foot landing squarely on the upper landing alongside the other.