The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) (4 page)

When she finished, she ran her fingers through her hair, working through the stubborn knots with several grimaces before she was done. Then she twisted her long hair and secured it in a tight knot at the nape of her neck as Heather had taught her to do.

She rolled up the wet and muddy nightdress she had used to dry herself, intending to wash it first chance she got. With no garments to spare, it could become useful along the way.

Emma did not bother to glance over herself one last time. She looked as she did and there was no changing that. Besides, how she looked did not matter in the least.

She called out, “I am finished and ready to ride.”

Rogan turned around ready to lay down the law—his law—to her since he had no choice but to take her along, but he was struck silent when he laid eyes upon her. Her hair was drawn back tightly away from her face and her cheeks were spotted red from the fresh scrubbing. Her eyes seemed a bit larger. Or was it that their lovely green color that reminded him of meadows and hills on a fine spring day made them more appealing? Were her lips a bit plumper than he had first noticed? He grunted beneath his breath annoyed that she had caught his eye in a manner he had not expected. He also grew more annoyed that he could not get the image of her enticing body in the wet nightdress out of his mind. He would be wise to remember her quick tongue and willful ways and that her sister Heather was his intended. Still, he could not ignore that the sight of her had aroused him twice in a very short time. If he had not lain with a woman recently, he would have blamed it on too much time between a good and satisfying poke. But it had been only a day that he had shared a lively and gratifying evening with a lassie that had been more than willing.

So why the bloody hell had this woman, plain in features and defiant tongue, aroused him?

He grunted low again and advanced on her with a quick step. Her eyes narrowed, her chin went up, and she held her ground, which surprised him since more often than not such a sudden move intimidated a person, but obviously not Emma.

“Since I have no choice but to take you along, listen well to what I say. You will obey my every word, for I have no time to deal with your foolish antics that serve no purpose but to delay my search for my intended.”

“Delay your search?” she repeated incredulously. “You did a fine job of that yourself. And my foolish antics found the trail of those who took my sister, so I warn you, I will let nothing get in the way of finding my sister—not even you.”

Rogan was the last to mount his horse and with the furious look on his face, his warriors wisely gave him a wide berth. He guided his stallion next to Emma’s mare and in an even, though threatening tone said, “Issue me such a warning again and I will see you bound and draped over your horse and sent home to your father.”

Emma smiled pleasantly. “You would have to catch me first.” With that, she rode off in an easy trot, her head turning from side to side, studying the muddied path as she went.

Rogan glared after her. Her wit and tongue were much too quick. There would come a time that he would call her to task for it and see her disciplined for such improper behavior, but now was not that time. He had Heather to think about. Sweet. Beautiful Heather. Wagging tongues spoke of her kindness and her generosity and how not a harsh word ever passed her lips. Heather would prove a good wife and their marriage beneficial to his clan.

His musings were interrupted by his tracker Liam as he rode up alongside him. They had been friends from when they could first walk and that friendship had grown stronger through the years. Liam was one person he knew without a doubt that he could trust. Though his wife Ina was another good friend, two years younger than Liam, she had forever dogged their steps. Mostly though, it had been Liam she had followed around. It was as if she had claimed him for herself on first sight and refused to let go. Liam had never seemed to mind and no one had been surprised when they wed five years ago. They had yet to welcome a child, though it had not been for lack of trying, as Liam had confided, but at least they had each other. They had always had each other. They were meant to be, and they did make a fine pair. Liam tall and slender and Ina petite and pretty and with a head of flaming red hair that curled every which way. They got to wed for love. Something Rogan would never be able to do. His father had once encouraged him to find a woman to love as he and Rogan’s mother had. But time passed and with no prospects of love on the horizon and Rogan having recently turned twenty and five years, it was time for him to wed. It had been his choice to seek a bride, to see his duty done and his father had not argued.

Liam nodded toward Emma. “She is skillful at reading the land. Those tracks were not easy to find after the rain.”

“It is a shame that she does not do as well with holding her tongue.”

“Can you blame her, Rogan? If Ina had a sister she would not let me rest until she was found. And I would be wise to do as she asked or suffer for it.”

“Still, Ina knows when to hold her tongue.”

Liam laughed. “When did Ina ever hold her tongue?”

A smile tickled the corners of Rogan’s mouth. “I remember when she was but six years and claimed that she loved you and that you would one day be her husband, then continued to remind you of it through the years.”

Liam nodded, his smile growing wider. “And reminded me of it yet again just before we took our vows, though I think it was more of an I-told-you-so.”

“You are a lucky man to have a woman who loves you that much.”

“That I am, and grateful for her every day.”

Both men watched as Emma turned her horse and rode toward them.

“You are the tracker?” Emma asked, fairly sure he was since she had seen him earlier studying the ground.

“I am,” Liam said proud of his skill.

“Then what are you doing here prattling on like a gossiping woman when tracks need to be watched?” She did not give either man a chance to respond. “Come with me, I want to show you something.” Again she gave them no chance to respond. She rode off, expecting to be followed.

“One day...” Rogan said through gritted teeth.

“I was waiting for her to discover the problem,” Liam said.

“What problem?”

“There are two sets of tracks. They divide where Emma had stopped. The question is who do the two tracks belong to and why would the two diverge?”

Rogan followed Liam to see for himself.

Emma slid off her mare and studied the tracks. If one did not have a good eye for tracking, the fact that one set of tracks converged with the other would not be noticed. She followed along the one trail a few feet, and then turned and followed the other one.

Liam dismounted and did the same.

Rogan remained on his horse watching the pair, though his eyes mostly followed Emma. It did not surprise him that her extensive knowledge included tracking. It was widely known that her unique skills had greatly benefitted the Macinnes clan. Their harvests were more than bountiful and their livestock well-bred. Winters saw no shortage of food for the large clan and, due to Emma’s expanding knowledge of plants, illnesses were not as rampant as in other clans. It was the reason his father had requested that she accompany Heather. He wanted her to show him what needed to be done so that the MacClennan clan could flourish like the Macinnes clan.

Liam turned to Emma. “It would appear that the group that captured Heather divided, leaving your sister Patience to make a choice as to which trail to follow.”

“So it would appear,” Emma agreed, “though knowing Patience she would have sent a warrior or two along the other path so as not to choose the wrong one and waste time following a worthless trail.”

“That would mean that since no reverse tracks are here that she had chosen the correct path to follow,” Liam said with a satisfied nod and looked to Rogan and pointed. “We go that way.”

Rogan and Liam were both surprised when Emma mounted her mare on her own. With her own strength, she pulled herself up and onto the horse and without a glance to either man, she followed the trail her sister Patience had taken.

Once on his horse, Liam turned to Rogan. “I will scout ahead.”

“Keep an extra eye out,” Rogan warned. “Emma had said that no one had been spotted before the attack. Her injured warriors had also commented on how their attackers appeared out of nowhere like ghosts.”

Liam stared at him for a moment, as if fearful of speaking what he thought.

“I know what you are thinking, for I have thought the same myself. It sounds like the work of the Dark Dragon. His warriors appear out of nowhere and vanish to God knows where.”

“No one has ever tracked him or at least lived to tell about it,” Liam said. “But what would he want with Heather?”

“My thought exactly. And though many reasons have run through my mind, none make any sense, except one.”

Liam felt his gut tighten, for he was sure he had reached the same conclusion as Rogan.

“The Dark Dragon wants Heather for himself,” Rogan said, fighting to keep his anger at bay.

“No!” Emma said empathically.

Both men turned, seeing that she was only a few feet from them.

“Do not say such a thing. A vile creature such as he could not have Heather.” Emma fought back tears at such a horrible possibility. She turned pleading eyes on Rogan. “Please, we must find her.”

“We will,” Rogan assured her, his gut wrenching at the pain he saw in her eyes, and he turned to Liam. “Follow the trail ahead and alert us to any changes. Keep a fast pace, for we shall as well.”

Rogan did as he said. They traveled at a sharp pace, not deviating from the trail Patience had taken. Emma was sure that her sister had kept a fierce pace, not wanting to take a chance that Heather would be lost to them. And she felt the same. She hoped, though more prayed, they would come upon her sisters safe and waiting from them to come to their aid, but as the day wore on her hope faded.

It was just before nightfall that Rogan ordered his troop to stop, and though Emma wanted to protest, she knew it would be a foolish thing to do. They had ridden long and hard and needed the rest so that tomorrow they could begin anew. Patience had always warned her that strength needed to be maintained if one was to succeed in her endeavor. Whether hungry or not, one was to eat and whether tired or not, one was to sleep. Otherwise a battle, a mission, a task would fail.

Emma ate heartily when presented with food that night, her sister’s words ringing in her ears, reminding what she must do, though her stomach had no use for sustenance. Sleep was harder for her to achieve, and she found herself staring at the flames until, unable to deal with her worrying thoughts, she sat up.

She walked soundlessly around the camp, listening to the warriors snoring and wishing she and her sisters were home and that this was nothing more than a nightmare.

“Sleep eludes you?”

Emma startled, though gave no shout of alarm, another thing Patience had taught her. A sharp cry could alert the enemy to your whereabouts, and Patience had put her through grueling tests until Emma no longer yelped in unexpected fright.

“More like worry keeps sleep at bay,” Emma said as she approached Rogan’s shadow on the outskirts of the camp. “You stand guard?”

“I do not ask of my men what I would not ask of myself.”

“My father felt the same until his illness intruded.”

“Your father is a good man and a wise leader. I was sorry to hear that he had taken ill.”

“He has improved, though has not returned to his full vigor—in time—I hope.” Emma was glad for the dark, for she did not want this mighty warrior to see the tears that stung her eyes. She worried endlessly about her da. He was, as Rogan said, a good man, but more than that he was a wonderful father. She could not bear the thought of losing him, which was why she worked so hard in treating his many maladies.

“I am sure he will do well, especially with a daughter such as yourself to help him. I am pleased he has agreed for you to remain with my clan for as long as necessary to show me what must be done to make the MacClennan clan thrive like the Macinnes clan.”

Emma found herself speechless, though only for a few moments. “My father made no mention of such an arrangement to me. I was to show you what I could while my sister visited with you, and then I was to return home with her.”

“He probably forgot,” Rogan said, thinking nothing of it.

It was possible, Emma thought. Her father had seemed a bit forgetful of late, but to agree before discussing it with her was not like her da. And though she and her sisters had not agreed with all his decisions regarding them, his word was always final, and they respected and obeyed it—with a little of their own meddling of course.

“I suppose,” Emma said, “but until I hear it from him, I will not be extending my stay at your home.”

Rogan stepped further out of the shadows and closer to Emma. That he was an impressive size did not fail to catch her breath. And the faint light from the sliver of the moon fell across his face and made her breath catch twice and her stomach clench. Never had she seen such a handsome man. Heather and he would make a perfect pair, one more beautiful than the other.

Rogan placed his face an inch from hers and his words suddenly caught in his throat. Shadows wrapped around her like a protective cloak except for her face. And he could not help but see how flawless and smooth her skin was, not pale like many women, but more creamy as if it begged to be touched and kissed.

He realized at that moment he was growing aroused and he grew annoyed, and his tone grew brusque. “You will be staying with me as long as I want you—and need you.”

His words gripped at her heart, though she was well aware that he did not mean it as her heart had taken it. And why had he paused, brief as it was, to add
and need you
? And why did her body feel as if it had suddenly come alive? It was as if her skin was more sensitive and she could feel the heat that drifted off his body tickle her flesh and send gooseflesh running over every inch of her.

She fought against the pervading sensation, though she would have much rather surrendered to it. The sinful thought had her coming to her senses and she gave her chin a toss. “You are not my father or my husband, therefore, I do not take orders from you. I will do as I please.’

Why the bloody hell was her defiance spiking his arousal? More annoyed than ever, he said, “You will do as I say.”

“Not likely.”

He gripped both her arms and her bright green eyes challenged defiantly.

Kiss her.

The thought was like a punch to his mid-section. Whatever the hell was he thinking? He did not want to kiss her. Then why had he grown so aroused? She was a bold, mule-headed woman who needed to be—
kissed
.

Rogan let go of her and stepped away. He had no right thinking such thoughts. She was the sister of his intended.

“Go and sleep,” he ordered, wanting her away from him since his hands itched to reach out and take hold of her once again and give her a good solid kiss. God help him, but he ached to kiss her senseless. Never had he felt such a strong desire to kiss a woman as he did right now. “Go,” he ordered again.”

Emma turned and hurried off, her stomach fluttering as madly as her heart. She stretched out on her blanket and shut her eyes tightly. Whatever was the matter with her? For a moment, a sheer moment, she thought Rogan was about to kiss her. And worse, she wanted him to.

This was utter madness. He was Heather’s intended and even if he was not, he was a mighty warrior who dictated far too much to her liking. She had to keep her distance from him. She had to, or chance doing something she would regret.