To Tempt Highland Fate (The Mac Coinnach Brothers) (8 page)

             
Wherever he was now, whatever happened next, Drust knew he had been given a second chance, because he should never have come out of that tunnel alive. 
But why?
  He had been ready to give his life for his clan’s future, which he thought would make up for his failure in the past.  Now, instead of simply being happy to find himself alive, he felt confused and uncertain.  If he had not been meant to give up his life for his clan, what was he meant to do now?  Perhaps it was the recent fever, or the too-close brush with death, but he felt… anticipation, almost as if his life was about to take a new turn… as if he was on the verge of something…  His mind reeled with his swirling thoughts, threatening to slip back into blissful unconsciousness.

             
But just as his eyes were about to close, there were light footsteps outside the door, signaling someone’s approach.  Drust braced himself for attack, mostly out of long habit, because he knew he was nearly helpless should whoever it was wish him harm. 

             
He remembered the ties at his wrists.  His captor?  He was as defenseless as a newborn babe, and he didn’t like it one damn bit.  Why would someone rescue him only to tie him up… unless they knew who he was and meant to ransom him back to his brother… A low growl began in his throat at that thought, only to be stopped short as the door opened and a woman leaned in to peer through the opening.  His anger faded the instant he saw her. 

             
Lovely.  Like an angel
. 

             
It was her, the lass in his fever dream, or perhaps it hadn’t been a dream after all.  Oddly, his heart skipped a few beats as he looked at her. 

             
A glorious smile lit her face when she saw that he was awake, and she pushed the door wider and slid gracefully into the room.  His world suddenly seemed to shift a little, the colors in the room grew just a little more vivid… the soft breeze through the window filled with the sweet scent of a forest.

             
“Well good morn, are you finally awake then?”

             
Her voice was like honey, sweet and lilting.  For a long moment Drust was struck dumb, and could only stare as if she were some sort of an apparition that had unexpectedly appeared to him.  She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Her sable-brown hair fell freely around her shoulders, and her eyes were a sparkling deep blue, set above high cheekbones, which were flushed with a soft pink glow.  The smile curving her lush lips lit up her whole face as if she glowed from within.

             
She moved over to the bed and placed a small hand on his forehead as he regarded her.  That one soft touch felt like heaven, and he wanted it to go on forever.  But she took her hand away all too soon, leaving him feeling strangely bereft.  For a brief moment, he forgot that he had just awoken in a strange place with his hands tied to a bed, and a second chance at a life he didn’t know what to do with.  And she did that to him only by walking into the room. 

             
“Your fever has broken.”

             
She sounded relieved, as if she had worried over him.

             
Ah,
wishful thinking.

             
He was a stranger, and there was no reason she should care about him.  And he was a warrior, a Mac Coinnach.  He didn’t need tender care from her or anyone. 
If only she would touch him again!

             
“What is your name then?  I’m Willa.  This is my brother’s cottage.”

             
She spoke with a soft English accent.  Was he in England then?  The tunnel
had
gone on for miles…

             
“Drust”, he managed.  His unused voice sounded hoarse and groggy.  Weak.  His anger began to rise again.  How he despised being weak!  The strength of his powerful body was all that was left to him.  That and his pride.  For God’s sake he would rather be dead than be an invalid!  His jaw set hard as the reality and strangeness of his helplessness washed over him.

             
“Why am I tied?”  he managed.

             
Her gaze flew to where his wrists strained against the ties wrapped around the bedposts.

             
“Oh!  I’m sorry.  You had a fever and we didn’t want you to open your wound if you thrashed around in your dreams.  Here, I’ll take these off now.”

             
She looked a bit uncertain, but bit her lip and leaned over him to untie the ropes.  He caught her delicate, sweet scent and his breath hitched, his heart beating a little faster.  She smelled soft and feminine, sweet like flowers, and he had a sudden urge to pull her closer.  But instead he lowered his arms and rubbed absently at his aching wrists, suddenly unsure of himself and his unusual awareness of this woman.  He couldn’t remember ever really noticing how one smelled… He had been with many women, especially in his younger days, but had the scent of a woman ever been so… intoxicating?

             
Has to be the fever.  Still out of my goddamned mind.

             
She seemed to sense his unease, and backed away a few steps, as if to give him space.  “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later, when you have some of your strength back.  Your wound is healing and you’ll be right in no time at all, though it was a near thing.”  She turned to leave.  “I’m going to get you some broth, and you’re going to drink it all for me.”

             
He nodded, but only because he
was
hungry, not because she had given him an order.  A small look of bemusement crossed his face at this ethereal, fragile-looking woman trying to order him around.  He was nearly twice her size and a hardened warrior, for God’s sake.  He took orders from no one but his brother, the Mac Coinnach chief.

             
Not much of a warrior at the moment, though. 

             
He had never felt so completely powerless in his whole life, at least not since he was a newborn babe.  Perhaps not even then.  Already he was itching to be up and out of bed, on his way home to Creagmor and his brothers.  But wait… he’d been so distracted by the lass he hadn’t even asked where he was.  He groaned at his own absurdity and scrubbed his hands over his face, wincing at the pain in his side.  Aye, he was definitely still affected by the fever. 

              Willa soon returned with a small cup of rich beef broth, which she held carefully to his lips as he watched her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher.  She was elated that she had gone through the trouble to make a stew on the very day the warrior finally awoke.  Usually she would have just eaten bread and fruit and not bothered with a hot meal, not for just herself. 

             
He looked up over the rim of the cup, met her eyes.  His were a fathomless golden brown, sparkling with intelligence and hinting at a rare depth of character.  Those eyes… she could imagine what they would look like just before he leaned close to kiss her… Whatever she saw there made her heart stutter, and she was finding it difficult to keep her hand steady.  She deliberately looked away and carefully pulled in her next breath so that he wouldn’t see how he affected her.

             
“Drink this much now, and later I’ll give you some more.  You have a long way to go yet, but in time you’ll be good as new, I promise” she said cheerfully.  “I’ll see to it myself.”  She forced a smile to her lips to cover the strange, exciting feelings that squeezed her chest.

              Famished, Drust took the cup from her and held it with a shaking hand, forcing himself to drink the liquid slowly, his stomach protesting after he hadn’t eaten for… how long, a few days?

             
He finished the broth, carelessly wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and looked up at her, handing back the empty cup.  “How long?”

             
“You’ve been here for nearly a week, now.

             
“God.”
I have to get back… Bren…

             
“You’re very fortunate you know. For a time we really didn’t know whether you would live.”

             
“We?  Yer brother?”

             
“Yes, I live here with my brother and his wife Maura.  They are kind enough to let me stay with them until I… until I find another place.”

             
Drust started to wonder why she was here instead of at her father’s house, or perhaps she was widowed?  But then he remembered he didn’t even know where
here
was.

             
“
Where
are we, lass?” he rasped.

             
“In the mountains, the other side of Loch Glascarnoch, from where … where we found you.  I hope you don’t mind, that we brought you all the way here.  I… we didn’t think it was right to just leave you to die, and we didn’t know where you had come from, or how you’d come to be injured.  If… if you would be in danger should we have taken you to the nearest town…”

             
She paused and looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t explain what had happened or how she had come to find him as she did.  She wouldn’t press him… yet.  He was still far too weak, and besides, she felt that she really wanted to win his trust.  Why, she didn’t know, but it seemed very important.

             
He shook his head.  “Nay… thank ye, I owe ye a debt of gratitude, then, for saving my life.  I didna expect to live, but now that I find I have…”  He trailed off.  He hadn’t yet had time to think farther ahead than finding himself alive.

             
“Where is yer brother?  I would thank him as well.”  He needed to know who this brother of hers was and if his intentions were truly as pure as she claimed.  Not many men would stop to help a stranger, especially one who would have soon been dead anyway.  He could still very well be in danger.  Enemies of the powerful Mac Coinnach clan were plentiful, and though they knew most of them, there were certainly others they did not.

             
“He’s not here”, she said, looking slightly nervous for the first time.  She bit her bottom lip between her teeth, as if deciding how much she should tell him.  “He and Maura, his wife, went to her family for a few days.  A wedding.  You can thank him when he returns, but he’s a good man and I’m certain he would do as much for anyone.”

             
Drust narrowed his eyes in thought.  Thinking had never felt so difficult.  His head ached. 
What kind of a man leaves his sister alone with a stranger?
  Unless she had a husband… He found that he didn’t like that thought, though he couldn’t imagine why.  It made something clench hard in his chest, even though he could certainly never have her himself, nor did he want a woman of his own.  He didn’t even know the lass, and even if he
should
want her, he had taken his vows, and he would without doubt uphold them. 
Still, a woman left alone?

             
“Yer brother left ye here alone?  Are ye wed, then?”  Strangely, he felt his chest constrict yet again at the thought of her married… and his heart began to beat faster as he waited for her reply.  It made his head hurt even worse than it already did. 

             
Aye, my mind is addled still… it will pass.

             
“No… no I… I’m not wed.”  She shook her head and turned her attention to the empty cup still in her hands, smiling at his apparent appetite. “Let me bring you a little more broth now, if you feel up to it.  You need to start getting your strength back.  It’s been a while since you’ve had any nourishment.  That’s part of the reason you feel so weak.”