Thirty-One
Brodie rubbed his dry eyes and leaned his head from one side to another, hearing the satisfying pop that released the tension that accumulated while standing guard. He’d had the ideal watch: nothing happened. The sky was lightening from midnight blue to the shade of sapphire. The sun hadn’t risen, but it would soon. He slipped back into the cave and found Monty and Donnan awake and whispering. Laurel continued to slumber, but Brodie noticed her hand roamed over his spot as if she searched for him in her sleep.
“How’s she been?” Brodie whispered.
“Mostly sleeping like the dead, but she grows restless from time to time,” Donnan answered.
“I’m headed out to scout again. If the Lamonts are still nearby, then I want to know if they moved after my last patrol. If I don’t return within two hours, remain here until at least tomorrow morning.” Both men nodded as all three glanced at Laurel once more. “If I don’t return, will you take her to Balnagown?”
With the sun rising rather than setting, Brodie and the other two men understood the risk of Brodie being spotted grew exponentially from the evening before. He needed reassurance that there was a plan for Laurel if he didn’t make it back.
“Aye. At least until we know no danger follows her,” Monty answered. “From there, I swear to take her wishes into consideration. I won’t promise that I can or will grant them, but I won’t ignore them. And I won’t mock them.” Monty’s expression showed the remorse he felt for what he’d previously thought of Laurel’s desires. Brodie’s mouth drew into a thin line, but he nodded.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.” Laurel rolled over as she looked at the three men. Brodie crossed the cave and knelt before Laurel stood. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. “I love you. I want to tell you that a hundred times a day for the next hundred years.”
“I shall have a hard time hearing you if I’m already saying it. I love you, thistle.” Brodie and Laurel shared a brief but tender kiss before Brodie rose and squeezed her hand. Laurel watched as he walked out of the cave. Then she turned her attention to her brother and friend.
“If he doesn’t come back, you must take me to Kilchurn first. I’d like to inform his family. I pray we can return his body to them if it comes to that. But I pray harder that it doesn’t. I may be Lady Campbell, but if Brodie isn’t Laird Campbell, I will be a stranger in the way. I will go to Balnagown before I ever go to Stirling.” Laurel was resolute, shooting each man an unwavering stare. “I will not marry unless it’s my choice. If Uncle Hamish and Aunt Amelia agree, I’d like a cottage in one of their villages. I’ll be a widow in truth.”
“You’ve thought a great deal in such a short time,” Monty mused.
“You assumed I slept the entire time. I didn’t. It gave me plenty of time to think.”
“And what are your thoughts aboot being at Balnagown, sister?”
“I’d rather not. But I can’t arrive at Sutherland and assume I can make a home there. Father will never allow me to live in a cottage on Ross land. I don’t want the king involved. I’d prefer he forget I existed, so he doesn’t press me to marry again. I doubt I will be so fortunate twice. I also don’t want to remain at Balnagown long enough for Mother and Father to bemoan my presence. A couple days at most.”
“And if we can’t arrange a cottage on Sutherland in a couple of days?” Monty sounded skeptical, and Laurel knew he was right to be.
“It may take sennights, even moons, to convince them. I said I’d like to have a cottage there. If I can’t then I shall find somewhere else.” Laurel shrugged. She knew her wishes were unrealistic and unlikely, but they were what she’d wanted for years. There would be no chance of having them if she didn’t speak them.
“We’ll do all that we can, Laurel. It’s my preference that you stay on Ross land,” Monty admitted. “Somewhere within a day’s ride of Balnagown, so Donnan and I can check on you once in a while. Your hair will always announce from whom you hail, but you’re still a Ross. You have a home on our land.”
Laurel nodded, not wanting to argue with Monty. She believed he meant it, but it wouldn’t be his decision to make. At least not likely for several more years. Their father was as fit as a mule—sturdy and ornery. Laurel busied herself by folding Brodie’s and her bedrolls. Once the task was complete, Laurel accepted the breeks Monty offered her. She retrieved a leine from Brodie’s satchel. She held it up before her. She would drown in it since it came nearly to her ankles. She had neither the height nor breadth to fill it out. She looked ruefully at the men and winced.
“I need a dirk.”
Laurel set to work cutting down the leine, promising Brodie silently that her first task as Lady Campbell would be to make him a new one. Once it was a more manageable length, she took the clothes into the nook where she and Brodie coupled the day before. As she shed her kirtle, she wished she was doing it for an entirely different reason. She reminded herself that they would have plenty of opportunities once they were home. Rolling Monty’s breeks over several times at the waist and ankles, she wrapped her arisaid around herself and belted the outfit into place. She could only imagine the sight she made, but she felt more confident that she could traverse whatever terrain they faced now that she wasn’t likely to trip over her own clothes.
Laurel, Monty, and Donnan were surprised when Brodie returned within an hour. He chuckled when he saw Laurel’s attire until she held up the remnants of the bottom half of his leine. She offered a semi-apologetic expression before laughing.
“I’ll make you a new one.”
“I may ruin all my leines if it means you’ll make me new ones. They’ll be the finest in all the land,” Brodie proclaimed as he came to stand beside Laurel, wrapping his arm around her waist. “The group to our south is where I last saw them. But the ones to the west are on the move now. Our men are awake and ready to go. I got more responses than last night.”
“Won’t the Lamonts know it’s you, if there’s suddenly all these bird calls and no birds in sight?”
“I have my own call. My men have theirs too. Usually when one of us uses it, the actual birds respond. Those who don’t know what to listen for don’t hear the other responses. But we know what we sound like.” Brodie knew most Highland clans used similar methods, but the meaning of the calls differed from clan to clan, ensuring they remained a secure way to communicate. Brodie watched as Laurel appeared to tuck the information away for later use. He could only imagine what she would come up with.
“Do we go now, bear?”
“Aye. While the sun is still low; otherwise, they’re likely to spot us. Laurie, the path we’re going to take is dangerous. It’s not one I would usually traverse with horses. Do not attempt more than you can manage. Admit if you need help.” Brodie gazed earnestly into Laurel’s hazel eyes. She recognized the worry in his gray ones and wished she could ease it. But she knew neither of them would breathe easily until they were all away from the mountains and the Lamonts.
“I promise.” With that, they left the cave.
While they could, Brodie led with Laurel behind him. Monty and Donnan followed Laurel, one on each side, slightly behind her. Between their hulking bodies and their horses, they shielded Laurel from the enemy to the south. They moved in silence, Brodie gesturing directions as he had the day before. As they moved along ledges and over crags and past steep drops into valleys hundreds of feet below them, Laurel couldn’t imagine hiking through the mountains without Brodie as their guide. They stopped to rest the horses at the top of the sheep path down the mountain. Laurel steeled herself for the descent.
