Highland Rake

  "All right," Alana said, trying to be consoling. The girl was not at fault for her uncle's omission. Had he forgotten to tell her in his haste to depart for his destination—that was supposed to be unknown to her, though she'd heard rumors that he'd gone to see the MacDonalds?

  "I…I overheard him say he was angry the shepherdess had refused to wed a widowed clansman that had offered for her twice, so she could suffer her illness on her own for all he cared," Pelly finally said, breaking into Alana's thoughts. "So when you did not go to her, I thought mayhap you didna hear about it."

  Staring at the girl, Alana realized her mouth gaped and she quickly closed it. How could her uncle be so cruel? He normally wasn't like that, she didn't think. Unless he was aggravated about the shepherdess for some other reason as well. Or mayhap his travel objective had made him cross.

  Alana was a healer, her mission being to ease the suffering of others as much as she was able. She didn't pick and choose who she would aid in his or her time of need. Odara was Alana's age and pretty with sparkling blue eyes and light red hair, and had played with her when they were little when Odara's mother used to bring sheep to the castle to sell. She was the only girl Alana had ever confided fully in about her secret. Odara had not feared Alana for her oddity, but instead had been fascinated. Even now that they were grown, whenever Odara brought sheep to the castle, Alana always went to see her and wish her well. Though because of Alana's position, Odara was shy around her whenever others were about.

  Pelly dropped her gaze to the ground again.

  "Thank you, Pelly. That will be all."

  The girl curtsied and moved out of her way on the narrow garden path lined with stones.

  Alana hurried past her and headed for the servants' entrance, hoping that if her brother had still been standing behind her, he stayed in the garden and wouldn't follow her. Her uncle would have a fit if he knew she used the servants' passage, but it was quicker to reach from the gardens, and the servants were used to seeing her entering it.

  Besides, he wasn't there to say anything about it anyway.

  Furious he hadn't told her that the woman was ill, now knowing he had done so on purpose and it wasn't an oversight on his part, she wouldn't delay leaving to see to her. What if Odara were to die? Or had died? Alana shook her head at the thought.

  It did no good to consider the possibility.

  She rushed through the great hall and noticed a few servants glancing in her direction. Her uncle's advisor, Turi, was speaking to one of the men who would be serving guard duty while a young girl was carrying in fresh rushes and spreading them on the floor.

  If her uncle had told his advisor that she was not to leave the castle to see to the shepherdess's health should she get word of it, she feared he might try to stop her. She would use the servants' stairs to the floors below hers when she was ready to leave.

  In her bedchamber, she hastily packed a bag of her herbs, then quickly exchanged her crimson and blue brat for the pale blue and green plaid wool one. If it had not been so far, she would have walked, but she would have to take her horse, so it would be impossible to leave without some noticing.

  She might not have any say in what their people did, but being the niece of the clan chief made her more visible just the same.

  She covered her plaited locks with a blue veil, the pale color of her hair a curse. In the full light of the moon, she was certain her hair could be seen from a mile away across the glen.

  "Where are you going?" her brother asked, and this time she gasped.

  Turning, she glowered at him. Why couldn't he be like a misty version of himself at least, and not so solid she felt she could touch his skin and feel the warmth there still. "Connell, go away! Do whatever you are supposed to do to find peace and leave me alone!" she whispered harshly.

  "I canna. 'Tis no' my fault. 'Tis yours."

  Annoyed with him that he would find fault with her for his own rash actions, she knew he'd say that again. For whatever reason, he truly believed she was keeping him here, when she had naught to do with it!

  "I suspect that our uncle is hoping for an alliance with the MacDonalds," Connell said, changing the subject. "Which means you will most likely be marrying one of the MacDonalds. The middle brother, Hoel, I would think."

  She wasn't happy about it, not that she expected to be delighted about any marriage her uncle arranged for her. "Did you overhear him speaking with Turi or someone else about it?" She should have thought to ask her brother. Then again, it would not make any difference as to her fate.

  "Aye, I did. I didna wish to speak of it because I didna think you would wish to hear of it."

  She'd only seen Hoel once years ago when he was bullying another lad. She'd had to remind herself that he was a warrior, and they all fought and tried to come out on top like a pack of wolves. The weakest didn't stand a chance. With her, he'd treat her as a lady. That's what she told herself. She was only nine at the time, and he four and ten, so he had only given her a cursory disgruntled glance, his older brother a couple of years older, teasing him mercilessly about marrying the fae wench.

  Fae. A derogatory slight because they must have heard the rumors she spoke to the fae. Or mayhap it was because of her hair that some said was so unnaturally light it shown like a soft moon's glow. Didn't that make her one of them?

  "What do you know about him?" she asked, hurrying to pack herbs in a leather pouch.

  "He is strange. Mayhap as much as you?"

  She glanced up at her brother, not understanding his meaning. He smiled at her, warmly, in a genuinely affectionate way.

  Many years ago during the ambush of their father, the Cameron clan chief and his men while she had been riding with the hunting party, and at her father's urging, she had hidden in the woods as he and the rest of his men fought valiantly to the last man. The overwhelming numbers had been too much, and her father and the rest of her clansmen had been murdered.

  Although, she did not believe her father had been. Not when he stayed with her to ensure she'd find her way home. It wasn't until she'd reached the walls surrounding her castle two days later that she'd learned her father had died in the forest with the rest of his men and that he hadn't been with her at the gatehouse. When her people had fussed over her so and hadn't spoken a word to her father, she'd turned to look and see why he was not shouting orders. He had vanished.

  Her uncle had ridden out with an army of men and brought back her father and their clansmen's bodies, but she wouldn't believe her father had not brought her home. That's when her kin really began to worry she was touched by the fae. From then on, she had learned to keep the truth from her people and pretend she was like everyone else who couldn't see or hear the dead. She wished it had been true.

  If her brother was here like her father had been, why would Connell remain behind? To see to her welfare? But she was home, safe. No one to harm her here.

  "What do you mean that he is strange, Connell?" She grabbed her leather pouch of herbs and hurried out of her chamber.

  "I am no' certain. But others say he is different."

  "Mad?" she asked. That's all she would need was to be married to a madman.

  Once she reached the corridor to the servants' quarters, she moved quickly down the narrow winding stone stairs and was soon at the landing. She glanced back, saw no sign of her pesky brother, and stalked toward the kitchen where she pilfered a loaf of bread and filled her flask with mead. Then she left through the servants' door that led outside. Everyone was busy with their daily chores, so none seemed to notice her as she made her way across the inner bailey. The greatest difficulty would be taking her horse from the stable.

  She hoped if anyone had been watching her, they would only think she was drying herbs and plants for future use, stocking up for the winter to come. It wasn't unusual for her to do so, although it was a wee bit early for gathering all the herbs.

  As soon as she entered the stable, she smiled brightly at one of the lads grooming a
horse. "Can you saddle my horse for me?"

  He bowed quickly, stammered an, "Aye," with a belated, "my lady." He began to ready her horse.

  As quickly as he could, he had her horse saddled and offered to help her mount.

  "Thank you," she said sweetly, climbing onto the saddle, then kneed her horse toward the gates.

  She walked her, afraid to stir much interest as a group of men was moving toward the gates, either going to the village or working their fields. A man driving a wagonload of barrels headed out also. Outside the curtain wall, several men were working on repairs to the stone barrier. Guards were always posted along the wall walk, and she was certain they'd watch her as she headed beyond the outer curtain wall and see which direction she was going.

  She wanted to head straight for the shepherdess's croft, but there were no plants she could harvest to use to heal the sick or wounded in that direction, so the guards might wonder where she was going and someone might try to stop her. Instead, she took a round-about way to the forest where she would normally collect plants. By then she was too far out of the guards' view for them to see where she was truly headed.

  Since her uncle would be away for several more days, Alana would have no trouble seeing to the woman and returning before he knew any better. If her uncle had been in residence at the castle at the time, the guards might not have made the mistake.

  Fearing her uncle might learn of Alana's defiance, she did not take a maid with her. She was afraid he would punish a maid accompanying her as well. Besides, her favorite maid, Turi's daughter, Brighid, was ill this morning. Alana hadn't been able to determine what ailed her. She hoped that whatever she had was not something that was catching among their people. Still, she couldn't imagine how Odara and the maid would have come into contact since they lived so far apart, and she didn't remember seeing the shepherdess at the keep recently.

  She had nearly reached the woods that fringed a blue loch when she saw a lad racing across the glen. "Hey, you, Kerwin! What are you about?" she called out, thinking the boy might be able to help her since he did not appear to be helping anyone else.

  The boy stopped, turned, and gaped at her, his strawberry curls touching his shoulders, his brown eyes wide.

  If Odara could not tend to her sheep, mayhap the lad could, if he was not needed for chores. Since he did not seem to be doing them anyway…

  The lad ran toward her then. "My lady," he said, then gave her a clumsy bow.

  "Are you done with your chores?" She was surprised that someone as old as he, looking to be about eight, would be through with them this early, and was more than likely avoiding them.

  He frowned, flushed a nice shade of red, and said in a low mumble, "I was helping my brothers, but one shoved me in the pig's pen. They threatened to toss me in the loch to clean me up after they finished the chores."

  He did smell like he had been wallowing in the pig's pen, ripe with the stench. "Would you come with me and help the shepherdess, Odara, tend her sheep if she is too ill?"

  "Oh, aye, my lady." He gave her a big grin, his face as dirty as the rest of him.

  He could have used a good dunking in the loch. It certainly was warm enough.

  "Will your mother be worried about you if you dinna tell her where you are going?"

  "Nay. There are six of us and she is happiest when some of us dinna come home to eat." He looked up at her as if he was hopeful she would provide him a meal.

  "I will see to it that you eat. You may have to stay for a couple of days."

  He grinned more broadly.

  She sighed. "'Tis too far for you to walk, but my horse willna take you unless you are clean."

  His eyes grew wide, and he glanced back at the loch.

  A deep voice said behind her, "What trick is this you play on the lad. I didna think you had it in you, Alana."

  She felt her skin prickle with heat. She did not turn to see her brother and instead said to the boy, "Do you know how to swim?"

  "Aye."

  "I will take you with me if you swim a little in the loch and wash off some of the dirt."

  "Aye," he said, beaming, and turned, then ran for the loch.

  She thought he'd remove his clothes, which wouldn't have made much difference since they were so filthy. Instead, he dove right in, clothes and all. She hoped he'd be cleaner and not just muddy after his swim.

  Her brother chuckled. This time, since the boy was not close by to witness it, she turned and found her brother seated upon a horse. Her mouth gaped. "Where did you get the horse?" she whispered.

  "He hasna found a way to leave here either, it seems. So I take care of him when I'm roaming the moors. Why are you going to Odara's croft without an escort? A maid?"

  "Turi's daughter is ill this morn. Beyond that, I dinna need one to accompany me."

  Her brother's serious expression didn't change. He shook his head. "You always need protection."

  "I have never had any trouble, Connell. You know that."

  "Aye, some say you have a guardian angel who looks out for you. Why are you going to see Odara? You didna give a reason."

  As if she owed her brother an explanation. "Our uncle received word Odara is sick. He didna wish me to see to her because she refuses to wed Gilleasbuig." She watched the lad swimming, then turned to her brother. "Had you heard of this?"

  "Nay."

  "Well, I canna imagine why Gilleasbuig has asked for the shepherdess's hand in marriage. He is not a farmer at heart, and if Odara does not love him, why does she have to wed him?"

  Connell shook his head. "Naught something that would concern me."

  "Aye, because you intended to marry no one." She cast him an irritated look.

  He raised his brows at her.

  She continued speaking, glad she at least had her brother to talk to about this travesty. No one else would have cared. "It is not like my own situation as far as marriage is concerned. Our uncle will use me to secure concessions from another clan for an alliance, as disagreeable as the notion is, but I have no' choice. It is my duty to the clan to do as our uncle bids. I have been raised with the knowledge and so have accepted my place in life." As much as she could.

  "But Odara. Well, she is just one of our clanswomen, not of any real importance to the clan as far as marriages go. She should be able to wed someone she cares for. When she is ill, she should be seen to, not left to her own devices, sick and unable to work, just because our uncle would have her punished for her disobedience."

  He watched the boy splashing in the loch. "Da really did bring you home from the woods the day he died, did he no'?"

  She realized then her brother had not been listening to her, lost in his own world of memories.

  She let out her breath. "Aye, just as I said he had." Her brother had been one of the ones who had been her biggest skeptic. She couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes. It didn't matter how much time had passed, she still loved her father for having brought her home safely.

  "I should have been there. I should have killed the brigands," Connell said.

  "You were only six summers older than me. They would have murdered you also." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, to attempt to forget the events of that day and what took place after. She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes. Instead of dying back then, her brother had gotten himself slain only a fortnight ago.

  He snorted. "Because I stole a loaf of bread from the kitchen, Da wouldna let me leave the keep that day to hunt. Do you know who murdered them? Some still say you would know the men who slaughtered them if you saw them again."

  She shook her head. "I was hiding too well. I had buried myself in the undergrowth of the forest and fallen leaves. I dared no' leave my hiding place while the swords clashed against each other. When all was quiet, I knew Da would come for me. And he finally did."

  Only she had believed him to be alive. That was why he had spoken to her the way he had. Not in a hushed voice like she thought he should have, but out loud
because no one else could hear him. Had he even been alive when he came to her the first time and warned her to hide?

  That would have made more sense also, because his shouting at her meant no one had heard him that time, either. She had worried about it then, that someone might have followed him and seen him warning her, though she had not seen anyone behind him.

  She glanced at the lad, hoping he would hurry as she didn't want to delay seeing Odara any longer than she had to.

  "But Da wasna alive," Connell said. "Like me. Our da wasna alive." He looked curiously at her then. "How many times has this happened? You said you played with children we couldna see when we were younger. Were they…like…I am now?"

  Chapter 2

  Spying some kind of movement in the woods, Alana peered at the pines, trying to see what had caught eye. Branches dancing in the breeze cast dark shadows. But she thought… She shook her head at herself, yet the hair at her nape stood on end as a smattering of chill bumps coated her skin. Why did she keep feeling as though she was being watched?

  "Alana?" Connell prompted her, wanting her to an answer his question about her seeing spirits.

  Alana had seen several ghosts over the years after her mother had died giving birth and the child had not survived either. Had the children she'd played with been imaginary? Only to those who could not see them like she could.

  "Aye," Alana said to her brother, sighing. "The children were like you and father, Connell."

  One child had been crushed by a falling stone as men tried to rebuild a wall. The lad looked just as he had before his death, all arms and legs and wide-eyed innocence. Although she had known better. He'd plagued her mercilessly when she was six, but he'd been wise enough to conduct his mischief beyond her father and brother's seeing. She had heard a maid tell another that when a lad was young, if he liked a lass, he would do such things.

  Still, she had been sad to see him die and played with him until one day he just faded away.

  "Our mother?" Connell asked, bringing her back to the present.