Highlander's Challenge (6 page)

"Would someone get her out of here?" the boy grumbled with a muttered curse.

Maighread's fury grew, and Colin feared he would have to step in. But Elspeth quickly took the matter in hand.

"Maighread is our healer," she softly explained. "She knows what needs tae be done."

The lad straightened, planting his bloodstained fists on his hips. "Look, I'm sure she's real good at home remedies and stuff, but this isn't a simple scratch."

"Not to worry, Elspeth. Tuck has many unusual talents," Ian said, a wry grin on his face.

The boy's eyes narrowed at his friend, but Ian said nothing more.

Elspeth glanced back over her shoulder to Colin, and he gave her a nod.

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"'Tis all right, lass," Elspeth said to Maighread. "You go and see tae your other duties. I'll tend tae Ian." Maighread spun around with a huff, a sharp frown on her face that vanished the moment she laid eyes on Colin. He held back his groan. When would the woman leave well enough alone?

"Colin, I've missed you terribly," she cooed, latching her bony arms around his neck. Her raven hair caught in his beard as she burrowed her face into his shirt. He heard a snort from the other side of the room and locked eyes with the lad. "Dinnae you have something tae tend tae, you dolt?"

The boy turned back to Ian, a sour smirk on his face. Prying his cousin loose, he said, "Do as Elspeth tells you, lass."

"But Colin—"

"Go," he said firmly, and she scurried out of the room. Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched the lad remove the last of the bandages.

Elspeth examined Ian's shoulder with a tsking sound. "A jealous husband, no doubt, finally caught up with you, you rogue."

Ian chuckled and winced. "Now, Elspeth, my sweet, why would I tarry with another woman when the most beautiful one is here." He took her hand and kissed it soundly.

"Ach, even bloodying up my good linens, you still have a need tae tease me."

"I need alcohol, and plenty of it, sutures and clean bandages," the lad rattled off.

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"Alcohol?" Elspeth asked, shaking her head. "Sutures?" The boy looked up at her, his face grim. "Oh, uh—whiskey and, um, needle and thread. They'll have to do." Colin barked out into the hall for the supplies and feet scurried bringing a scowl to his face. Maighread was likely hovering about waiting for him. The woman would never leave him be. She dogged his steps day and night with her wooing nonsense. Surely she must realize his father intended him to marry Aileen MacKenzie. There'd been a verbal agreement between the clans since he was a lad. He stroked his new beard with the thought. As soon as he was certain Ian was well taken care of, he would seek out his father. If he was to marry Aileen, then why had her kinsmen attacked him? Or had the lad been their real target?

Within moments Fiona, one of the kitchen maids, appeared with the drink and other items. The boy snatched the bottle from the young girl's hand, and to Colin's surprise, poured it directly into Ian's wound.

Ian bolted up in the bed with a vivid curse. "For the love of God, are you trying to kill me?"

"Stop being such a baby," the boy said, pressing his forearm against Ian's chest to hold him down as he continued his unusual torture.

Colin crossed the room in two strides and snatched the lad's wrist, tilting the bottle away from Ian's shoulder. "Have you gone daft?"

The young idiot glared hotly at him. "It has to be thoroughly cleaned. Now either let me go so I can sew him up or you can do it yourself."

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He clenched his teeth, at a loss as to whether or not he should risk leaving his friend in the hands of this stranger or toss him out on his arse.

"Let her finish, my friend," Ian said through clenched teeth, his eyes bright with pain. "I have the oddest notion she knows what she's doing."

"All 'tis well, Colin," Elspeth said, her hand gently patting on his arm.

He withheld a shudder, easily imagining his friend's pain by the grimace on his face and the tone of his voice, but he trusted Elspeth's intuition. If Ian was in any danger from this stranger, she would know.

Releasing the boy's hand, Ian's words cut through his anger.
She?
His pain must indeed be great to mistake the lad for a woman. Unless...

Colin stepped back, looking the stranger over carefully, noting the smattering of freckles, the pert nose, and deep green eyes. The face he'd done his best to ignore in the wood, as he'd found the lad uncomfortably attractive.
The devil take him. He was a she!

A faint bit of relief that he was his usual self settled over him with that truth. The unusual covering she wore hid her bosom well, or else he would've noticed from the beginning. Moving his gaze down her body, over firm long legs, he felt a stirring deep inside, but adroitly shoved it aside. He had no time for such things.

She gave what was left of the drink to Elspeth, then turned and threaded the needle. Holding her hands over a basin, she 54

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said, "Pour some of the whiskey over my hands, then give it to him, he'll need it."

Elspeth did as she was told without a word, then handed Ian the bottle.

Colin observed as the woman clad in dark blue trews gently shook the excess moisture from her hands, then spoke over her shoulder. "Drink up, Prince Charming. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more than the whiskey." Her voice, he noted, was firm and strong. Not the irritating twitter he was used to hearing from females like Maighread, with the exception of when his cousin was stewing over something. But not only was her tone different, the words this woman used were strange. Her speech vaguely similar but not exactly that of a Sassenach. He found himself struggling to understand much of what she said. He grumbled lowly as the puzzle twisted and turned.

Watching her slender fingers as they skillfully worked at Ian's torn flesh, he remembered those same hands snagging him by the belt and tossing him to the ground. His anger rose with every stitch. Luck had been more than kind to her that afternoon. She could've been killed by any one of those men. Although, he thought while scratching at his scraggly beard, she had been quick and sure.

He dropped his hand to his arm, his scowl deepening. She was still a woman. One he intended to learn more about, like what was she doing on MacLean land dressed as a lad, and what connection did she have with the ambush? What purpose could she have for traveling in disguise?

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Several minutes later, she dried her hands on a bit of cloth. "There, the worst is over. You'll survive." Ian, now several shades paler than when he'd first been brought into the room and likely a bit light in the head from drink, grinned. "Thanks to your tender loving care, my dear." She sniffed and shook her head. "You're a real piece of work."

Lifting her head, she looked at Elspeth, who had watched her with utter fascination.

"We need to keep the wound clean," Tuck said. "The bandages will need to be changed regularly. Never touch his shoulder without first washing your hands thoroughly with strong soap or whiskey. The last thing we need is for an infection to set in. Assuming there aren't any antibiotics lying around."

Elspeth shook her head slowly.

"No, I didn't think so," she said with a heavy sigh. "Then I've done all I can. Let's just hope it's enough."

"If you are quite finished,
woman
, I'll have a word with you," Colin snarled, growing more irritated by the minute.
An-
ti-bi-ot-ics? What was she blathering about
?

Ian chuckled softly and took hold of her slender fingers.

"Ah, so the truth comes to light. Do not be afraid, dear heart, he's harmless." He pressed his lips to her hand. "Most of the time," he added with a broad smile and a wink. Her mouth opened a fraction then snapped shut as she pulled free of his grasp. "Not much scares me." Crossing her arms, she turned and met Colin's gaze openly. "And the name is Tuck. Not lad, not woman. Tuck. I 56

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suggest you use it, or you'll find yourself becoming better acquainted with the floor."

Clenching his jaw, he bit back the urge to throttle the shrew. He traversed the room in a breath and towered over her. "I'll call you whatever I like ...
woman
." He hated the twitch of pleasure he got from the deep green fire glinting in her eyes. "Tell me what you have tae do with the MacKenzies."

Her brow furrowed, and he took note of the spark of confusion on her face before she expertly hid her thoughts behind a blank mask.

She dropped her fisted hands by her sides. "I don't have a clue, nor do I care who the MacKenzies are."

"They're the ones who ambushed us, you taupie!" He ignored Elspeth's soft gasp, she would know the details soon enough. First, he had to deal with his present problem. The irritating woman growled, her rosy lips parting over her perfect white teeth. "You listen to me, Sasquatch. I was minding my own business, when you followed me into the woods. And, I might add, if it weren't for me, you'd be dead right now!"

"You'll be wishing I were, if you dinnae watch your step."

"As amusing as this is, I think I would prefer it if you took it outside," Ian said with a soft chuckle. Their heads snapped to the side, facing the bed.

"I have caused enough grief for poor Elspeth here," he continued, patting her hand. "I do not think she would appreciate any more blood being spilled on her fine linens." 57

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"Ach, my, no." Elspeth glided to the woman's side and took her by the arm. Pulling her toward the door, she said, "Come with me, lass, and we'll get you cleaned up and proper." The bothersome female shot Colin a look over her shoulder as Elspeth led her from the room.

Ian grinned like a buffoon as the door closed behind them.

"She's amazing, is she not? Never in my life have I met a more captivating woman."

"You've gone daft from too much drink, mon. That—" he pointed toward the door, "—isna a woman. Not in the way you mean."

Ian grinned broadly. "I can see you like her as much as I. Well, my friend, you shall have to wait until I am fully recovered before we can fight over her."

"If you weren't already wounded, I'd be happy tae break your nose."

"Come now, Colin. Even you have to admit, she has an unusual fighting skill. And she did do you a great favor by pulling you off your horse," he said with a chuckle, then winced. "A sight I never dreamed I would see. Colin MacLean, unhorsed by a woman."

"'Tis not funny, and you'll not mention it again."

"Quite right, quite right, but 'twas so—" he gripped his side with laughter.

Colin spun on his heels and stormed from the room.

"Damn Sassenach."

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Tuck followed the woman down the hallway, her thoughts jumping around in her head like Mexican jumping beans. Where was she? How did she get here, wherever here was? And why did she feel the oddest urge to grab that stubborn, bull-headed Scot by the shirt and—no she wouldn't finish that thought. If she did it meant she'd finally gone over the edge. Sex had no place in this delusion. If it was a delusion. That explanation was rapidly losing its validity. Everything felt too real. All of her senses, and a few she rarely ever used, were operating at peak performance. She could smell, touch, taste, see, hear everything around her. And those unused senses, the ones her hormones ruled, were doing some very bizarre things. But she was determined to ignore them.

It was bad enough that Ian's teasing and that kiss to her hand had thrown her for a loop, but MacLean was a different story entirely. Parts of her body were tingling eagerly. It was enough to make her stomach twist into knots.

"Are you not well, lass?" Elspeth asked.

"Oh, um, sorry. I guess I'm just a little tired. It's been a rough day." A fatigued sigh escaped her lips. She hadn't felt this drained since boot camp.

"We'll get you cleaned up and in some proper clothes then you'll feel like yourself again."

"Proper clothes?" She glanced down at her jeans, not happy with what the woman was insinuating. But if she was being inducted into this reenactment thing then proper 59

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clothes meant a dress of some sort. Women didn't go around in jeans in the—whatever century she was supposedly in. She took a deep breath, letting that thought settle into place, but her rational side didn't exactly buy it. Nor did it buy the only other explanation left to her.

Time travel.

She snorted.
Right. Time travel. I must be insane
. She could not, would not accept that possibility. It wasn't tangible. It scored right up there with fairytales, wishing wells, and water sprites.

"Water sprites," she rasped, stumbling to a halt.

"What's that, lass?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud." What had Jenny said about the fountain and a water sprite? There had to be a connection. Or was she really going off the deep end?

She rubbed at her temple where one doozy of a headache was forming. Her only option at this juncture was to go along with whatever came her way and adapt as she saw fit. The blood was real, and so was that finally honed steel MacLean had held at her throat.

Regardless of where or
when
she was, whether she was crazy or sane, she had a job to do, and the best way to accomplish that was to gather all the information she could. She needed to know whom she was dealing with before she could plan her next move.

"So, Elspeth. What's your relationship to MacLean?" she asked, making her tone as light as she could, which was just this side of a demand, but for Tuck it was as good as she got. 60