On impulse, she kicked off her boots and dug her feet into the sand, enjoying the soft, warm sensation of it between her toes. The breeze blew her hair out behind her and she spread her arms wide, allowing the fresh air to blow away a little of the anxiety and doubt she’d been feeling since her encounter with Lir.
Ahead of her, the water spread out in a shimmering blanket, so clear she could see fish of many colors darting about below the surface. It looked very peaceful. Serene. The kind of spot that would help her forget her worries—if only for a little while.
Glancing back, she saw that Mal was still busy with Sarrach’s hoof and the rest of the men had spread out along the sand dunes, keeping watch for danger. It looked like the party wouldn’t be going anywhere for a little while. Perfect. Just enough time.
She waved her hand. “I’m going for a dip! I won’t be long!”
Mal shouted something back, but his words were lost in the moan of the breeze and the slither of the waves. And, to be honest, she would have ignored him even if she had heard him. No doubt he was telling her that she wasn’t allowed to swim because it was too dangerous. Well, tough. She’d had a shitty morning, and she wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity to de-stress.
Reaching behind her back, she untied her dress and stepped out of it, leaving her in only her shift. She waded into the water, gasping in shock at the temperature. It was colder than she’d expected. But not to be deterred, she swam out a little way, getting used to the temperature and then flipped onto her back, floating and gazing up at the sparkling blue sky.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she felt the tension leak out of her. As she floated in the water, cradled by the gentle swell, listening to nothing but the call of birds and the gentle lapping of the water, that little pool of despair that had gathered in her stomach began to dissipate.
But the question remained: how could she fix the magic?
Chapter Sixteen
Arran spotted Maland the rest of the men he’d sent with Jenna up ahead and breathed out in relief. They were exactly where he’d expected them to be and from their relaxed demeanor he guessed they’d not run into any trouble.
Right now they were spread out along the dunes while Mal knelt by his horse’s right front leg. Arran frowned. Where was Jenna?
He scanned the group but could see no sign of her. His stomach tightened. Misty, the horse he’d lent her, was there, drowsing next to Sarrach, but he could see no sign of Misty’s rider.
Arran’s pulse ratcheted up a notch. He kicked Bran into a gallop, skidding to a halt in front of Mal and jumping out of the saddle before the horse had even come to a full stop.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “Where’s Jenna?”
“Sarrach’s pulled up lame,” Mal replied, pointing at the stone he’d dug out of the horse’s hoof. “And dinna look so worried; Jenna is fine.” He nodded in the direction of the bay. “Sounds like she’s enjoying herself.”
Arran turned and saw a speck floating in the water of the bay. Delighted laughter floated across the waves, followed by the sound of splashing.
Arran ground his teeth, then glared at his cousin. “Ye let her goswimming?”
Mal’s eyebrows rose. “Let her? I dinna think yeleta MacFinnan spellweaver do anything. Nor do ye stop her when she has a mind to do something.”
Arran growled low in his throat. He had first-hand experience of what happened when ye tried to tell a MacFinnan what to do. Turning, he strode down the dunes onto the beach and walked up to the water’s edge.
Cupping his hands, he bellowed, “Jenna!”
She turned and spotted him. “Arran!” she called. “Come on in! The water is lovely!”
Lovely? He’d call it dangerous and bloody foolish. Besides the threat of the raiders, didn’t she realize there were treacherous currents around Skye that could grab an unwary swimmer and sweep them out to sea? Why else did she think she was the only person in the water on such a fine day? The locals had more sense.
“Jenna!” he yelled. “Come back! It isnae safe!”
“Stop worrying!” she yelled back. “It’s amazing!”
She turned onto her back and began gently scooting herself farther out into the bay.
Arran let forth a string of expletives. Why did Lir not warn him about how bloody stubborn and annoying MacFinnan spellweavers were? If he’d known how difficult they could be, he’d have turned down Lir’s offer and found another way to defeat the raiders. Lord above, facing down an army of raiders was easier than dealing with one headstrong twenty-first century woman who seemed to take perverse pleasure in doing the opposite of what he told her!
With a growl, he unbelted his claymore and dropped the sword onto the beach. Then he kicked off his boots, waded into the water, and began swimming out towards her with strong, steady strokes. He’d vowed to keep the fool woman safe and if that meant dragging her bodily out of the water, then that’s what he’d do. She could rail and shout at him all she liked just as soon as she was on dry land andhe could keep an eye on her.
Arran was an excellent swimmer—as was almost everyone on Skye—and it didn’t take him long to reach her. She laughed delightedly as he trod water next to where she was floating and gave him a smile that almost stopped his heart.
“See?” she cried. “I knew you’d come to your senses!”
“I wishyewould,” he snapped. “Come on. We must get back to shore.”
