Highland Destiny (30 page)

"Pregnant?" she squeaked out. "Oh! I hadn't even thought...I mean, I can't be...I couldn't be..." she trailed off.

"Oh," she whispered, "What if I am?" Her panicked eyes flew back to his. "Oh Lord, Connor, what if I am?" Her hand instinctively dropped to her belly. "What would we do?" she whispered to herself. Mackenzie's eyes left his, lost in their own thoughts. He thought he saw a tear fall.

The naked panic Connor saw on her face saddened him.

She claimed to love him, but she didn't want his child.

"Would it be so terrible?" Connor softened his voice, trying to hide the misery he felt.

Her eyes refocused on his and she said, "Connor, it's not that I don't want the baby, but what if something happens.

What if this wasn't supposed to happen? What if
we
weren't supposed to happen? What if we mess up the whole space-time continuum thingie because we couldn't control ourselves? What if the world ends because we met? I can't even think about this...what if this is wrong?" her strained voice trailed off.

What could be wrong about this? Connor didn't understand what Mackenzie was so upset about. And Connor hadn't missed the fact that she still hadn't committed to staying with him.

When he'd seen that she was still hiding something from him, he'd tried to make her understand that he could be 292

While Connor didn't understand Mackenzie's reaction to the possibility of a child, he especially didn't understand what she had meant when she'd said that they shouldn't have

"happened." He glanced over to her as she fumbled with her stays. She was lost in her own thoughts as Connor helped lace her up. Since she didn't appear to notice his assistance with her laces, he gathered up the remnants from the meal they'd barely touched, and prepared the horses.

Pregnant? Mackenzie couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of that. How could she be so stupid! Of course it was possible. She'd been here for two weeks already, and it's not like she could go pick up a box of condoms or something. It was one thing for the Campbell to kill her, but to kill the baby as well...she couldn't allow that. She wouldn't. But wait, she didn't even know if she was pregnant, so she squared her shoulders and tried to shake off the uneasy feelings. But she knew she was. Now that Connor had brought it to her 293

She wanted to laugh at the irony and unfairness of it all; she had found everything she'd never even known that she wanted here, two hundred years before she would even be born. She greedily wanted it all, too. How selfish could she be? She had to get to the Campbell's keep and stop his evil plan...but now she knew she had to survive this all. Her hand fell to her stomach again. She would stop him and she would make it out alive, but how? Her eyes darted to Connor. And at what cost?

Connor was silent on the ride home; and for once Mackenzie didn't try to break the silence. She was lost in the tangle of her own thoughts. She had vaguely noticed when he'd packed up their picnic and helped her mount her horse.

But it wasn't until they were well on their way home that she felt uneasy. Her horse seemed nervous, and she felt as if she was being watched, but she couldn't focus on anything other than her growing fear. What would happen to her if the Campbell found out she was pregnant? And that it was Connor's baby?

* * * *

The sound of something whizzing by her ear startled her, causing her horse to rear up, nearly throwing Mackenzie in the process. She held onto both the reins and her horse with a death grip and miraculously stayed astride. Connor was swearing under his breath as he yanked the reins from her hands and urged both horses into a gallop. Mackenzie knew something was wrong, but she had no idea what. Suddenly she was knocked backward, and a fiery pain radiated from her shoulder down her arm to her fingertips. She scrambled to stay mounted and reached with her right hand to feel what was wrong. Her stomach heaved at the warm, wet feeling that was becoming too familiar to her, before she felt the long shaft of an arrow jutting out from her left shoulder.

It took everything Mackenzie had in her to not scream, or faint, or cry. She tried to yank it free, and had to bite her lips to keep from screaming. It must have gone straight through her shoulder, because it hitched as she pulled. She stayed upright on her horse, at full gallop next to Connor.

And he had no idea that she'd been shot.

His face looked angry, and his eyes were roving the trees, but he hadn't glanced at Mackenzie. The way back to his castle was much more direct and much faster than their meandering route from earlier. For that, Mackenzie was intensely grateful. Now, she was not only gripping the horse to stay upright, but she was trying to maintain a grip on her fading consciousness as well. When they were on the stone 295

Once they were inside the yard, Connor jumped down from his horse and turned in time to see Mackenzie finally lose her tenuous grip on her consciousness and slump limply from her mount.

When Connor leaped from his horse to make sure Mackenzie was safely inside the yard before the yett slammed down, his blood ran cold. There was an arrow sticking out of her shoulder. He vaguely noticed that it was through and through, which was good, easier. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she slid from the saddle. He was there instantly, catching her before she hit the ground, but the force of her fall knocked him to one knee. His heart and breath had both stopped. It wasn't until he saw her chest moving with rapid, shallow gasps that he calmed enough to lift her and run to the castle, shouting for his brother all the while.

Once inside, Connor rushed her to their room. His brother met him with some whisky and a cauterizing iron. After gently setting an unconscious Mackenzie down on the bed, Connor pulled out his dirk and sliced the sleeve off of her gown, rather than wasting time unlacing the front of her bodice. He delicately slid as much of the sleeve off and did the same to her sark. Her stays weren't in the way, but he yanked them off as well. Mackenzie's face was pale, and her lips were white. His eyes met Liam's as he rolled her to her side.

Connor held her down while Liam took his sword and sliced 296

Liam went to the fireplace where the flat end of the cauterizing iron was heating in the fire. Connor gingerly removed any material near her wound and as his brother was about to weld her flesh together, Connor gripped Liam's wrist tightly and met his gaze. Liam wordlessly handed it over to his brother. Connor laid her gently against the pillows, and traded places with Liam. The pain of a thousand daggers through his heart would have been easier to endure than the thought of hurting Mackenzie. She didn't even moan or twitch as he pressed the white hot iron into her soft flesh. The smell was nauseating. Connor had smelled the scent of burning flesh more times than he cared to remember. He and his brother had both cauterized many wounds out on the battlefield, he had even had it performed on him once or twice, but never before had it tightened his chest, or caused him so much pain to watch. Connor wished he could be in her stead.

He had Liam hold her up, her head lolling against his shoulder, and Connor repeated the cauterization on the exit 297

Liam's hand on his shoulder brought Connor out of his absorption.

"Any change?"

"Nay, brother, none at all."

"Dougal and Robbie caught the man who shot her."

His eyes flew to Liam's and he grinned in angry joy. "Let's have a chat with him, shall we?"

"We've already begun. Robbie says that he'd be one of the Campbell's men, for sure. All he has gotten from him is that he was aiming for you."

"He had better pray that she wakes soon, else I'll aim for him!" Connor declared it so firmly that had Liam never met Connor before that night, he'd have believed it. "And I won't miss."

Connor's eyes were molten fury. He wanted to beat the truth out of the man with his own two fists, however, the desire to stay with Mackenzie and to be here when she opened her eyes was equally as strong. He didn't want to leave Mackenzie's side. How could he?

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"Aye, Liam, you're right, I ken ye are, but I canna bring myself to leave her." Connor stared at Mackenzie, silently willing her to open her eyes.

His thoughts moved to the possibility that she might be carrying his child. A wound like this wouldn't ordinarily affect any other body part on a man, but Connor knew little of how a woman's body worked, especially one with child. Women were supposed to be soft, and warm, and delicate. Would her delicate body withstand an infection?

"Brother?" Liam once again intruded on his thoughts.

"I'm coming. Send for Bronwyn, I doona want her left alone. I'll meet you downstairs."

The first thing Mackenzie noticed when she woke up was that her arm hurt. It was as if her left shoulder and arm were on fire.
God, couldn't someone put out the fire?
She couldn't drag her eyelids back yet...it was like trying to claw her way out of a wet blanket. She dimly heard voices, but they sounded far away, as if down a well. Mackenzie listened harder, more intently; all she could make out was her name, though. She tried to understand more, but soon gave up. It was too hard to listen, she wanted to go to back to sleep....

When she woke this time, she was able to open her eyes.

It was difficult to focus on anything specific, but it was dark.

The fire was going. She sat up and instantly regretted it. Her head swooned, and her arm felt like it was ripping off at her shoulder. Mackenzie fell back against the pillows, gasping from the pain. Oh, right, she'd been shot. With an arrow, of all things! This was surreal. The whole event came back to her quickly; that was good, no head injury, right? She felt warm hands on her forehead, and face. Her eyes desperately searched the dark. It was Connor. He sat on the edge of the bed. Thank goodness he hadn't been hurt. His knuckles were bruised and scratched up, his eyes were frantic; he looked awful. When was it? Had he slept at all?

"Are," she cleared her dry throat and tried again, "Are you alright?" She felt parched.

He looked almost angry. "You want to know if
I'm
alright?"

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Connor barked a short hard laugh, and ran a hand over his face. "Nay, love, I'm no' alright. You've been shot. Are
you
alright?"

"I'm fine," she said automatically, but at his incredulous look, she added, "My arm hurts. Actually, it feels like it's on fire." Mackenzie frowned as she thought of all the primitive medical resources available. Her frown deepened as she reached over to feel the wound, realizing that the idea of having been crudely stitched up did not appeal to her. All she felt was cloth strips wrapped around her shoulder. She could move her arm, though, so even though the pain was not localized, the injury was.

"Can I have some water?" she still sounded as if she'd been hiking in Death Valley during the height of summer. Her throat hurt almost as much as her shoulder did. Connor handed her a cup of water. Swallowing gratefully, Mackenzie asked, "What happened?"

"Do you no' remember? You were shot with an arrow, Mackenzie."

"I know, I meant, how did you remove the arrow?" She was frustrated that he hadn't known what she meant.

Connor didn't understand her irritation. "We pulled the arrow through and cauterized the wound."

"How?" She persisted. "How did you cauterize the wound?"

Connor didn't answer, so Mackenzie tore the bandages off and felt the tender, puckered skin. She felt sick instantly, understanding that it was a burn. Connor's hands replaced 301