“Have you a spare plaid?” Ronan asked. He glanced again at Abigail, who watched him. He noticed her lips were turning blue as she fought to not let her teeth chatter. He turned back to the MacLeod guard. “Can you get the shoe off? It would be better than that nail tearing his hoof. Either way, wrap the hoof in the plaid until we can get him to a farrier.”
“I dinna ken if he will make it that far, Laird.”
“We can’t stay here much longer. I’m sorry, but you must decide. We aren’t going faster than a trot. Guide him and walk with him. But if he can’t go on, know that I won’t leave you behind, and I can’t stay here with Lady Abigail. She’s already freezing.”
The guard nodded as he lifted the horse’s injured hoof and worked to pry the shoe loose. Everyone breathed a collective sigh when it came free. A MacKinnon helped wrap the horse’s hoof before mounting his own horse. The MacLeod grabbed the bridle and nodded. Ronan ordered them on, but they’d barely taken a handful of steps when the injured horse whinnied. With coaxing, the horse continued, and so became the pattern for the next half-hour. An angry whinny and cajoling. Ronan didn’t blame the horse or the man, but it frustrated him that the delay continued to expose Abigail to the elements.
Ronan looked at Abigail for at least the hundredth time, but his heart pounded as he noticed her eyelids were growing heavy and her body leaned forward. It was more of a slump than trying to avoid the wind. He was running out of time to get her warm.
“We must press on,” Ronan called. He turned to Abigail and whispered, “What’s your guard’s name?”
“Douglas.”
“Douglas, mount with one of the other men. Bring your horse if you can, but we must move faster.”
“Nay, ma laird. I’m nae leaving ma horse to freeze. I canna do it,” Douglas answered.
Ronan turned in his saddle as they stopped again. “Douglas, I don’t want you to leave your horse either, but I can’t have you or Lady Abigail, not to mention the rest of the men, freeze in favor of a horse. If you must, put the steed out of its misery, but we can’t wait any longer.”
“We can move off the path and shelter in those trees,” a MacLeod suggested. There was an opening in the pass with a copse of trees not far in the distance.
“Nay. It’s still too exposed, and there’s too great a chance this pass will become untraversable by morning,” Ronan shook his head.
“Ye and yer men may go on, Laird MacKinnon, but we will seek shelter with Lady Abigail in the clearing,” the MacLeod guard commanded.
“Dennis,” Abigail hissed, her eyes wide open. She’d always taken the advice of her guards when she traveled, but it stunned her to hear her guard disagree with Ronan.
“She’s our responsibility,” another guard named Daniel spoke up. “Ye do what ye must, but we will protect Lady Abigail.”
Abigail watched a hardened stare take hold of Ronan’s gaze as he turned his horse so he could look at the men in front and behind him. She held her breath, terrified of what would happen to her men for disagreeing with Ronan. She knew his temper was fraying when his brogue entered his voice.
“I dinna ken if ye make a habit of disagreeing with yer laird or ye just reserve that for me. I dinna give a shite. The only thing I am concerned aboot right now is getting Lady Abigail through this pass. She is nae going to freeze to death because ye get her trapped in this pass until the spring thaw.” Ronan dismounted and walked between their horses to stand next to Abigail. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Ye ken what I think, but what do ye wish to do? If ye want to stop in the clearing, we will.”
“I trust you, Ronan. Whatever you think is best.”
“Lass, if I didna worry that it would slow ma horse too much, I would have ye ride with me. I am sorry for yer mon, but there are thirteen other people and fourteen other horses to consider,” Ronan explained.
“I ken. May I speak to him?”
“Abby, ye dinna need ma permission. He’s yer guard, and ye’re an adult,” Ronan frowned.
“I ken, but I won’t if you fear spending more time here.”
“Just a minute or two. Do ye want me to help ye down?” Ronan offered.
“Aye, please.” Ronan lifted Abigail from her horse and gripped her elbow as they walked to where Douglas patted his horse’s broad nose. “Douglas, I ken you don’t want to leave your horse behind. But I would never forgive myself if I agreed to letting you stay back or if we slow down, and someone perishes because of it. I don’t want to explain to Kieran why I’m missing a guard rather than just a horse. Laird MacKinnon speaks sense. We can’t wait any longer, and I agree with the laird that staying in the clearing isn’t wise.” Abigail had pulled her scarf down to talk and offered him a kind smile. Her genuine sympathy was easy to read in her expression. Douglas nodded.
“Have two of the men take yer saddlebags and add yer saddle to the packhorse. Nae ideal, but the lighter weight may buy ye more time with yer horse,” Ronan ordered.
“That’s a good idea,” Abigail nodded. But she turned to face two of her other guards. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped toward Daniel and Dennis’s horses. “I ken you are looking out for your brother, and I believe you are trying to do what you think is best for me, but if I ever hear you speak to a laird like that again, I will be the one with the lash. You can make your disagreement known, but you will do it with respect. Am I understood?” Abigail stood to her fullest height, which was inconsequential compared to the men she traveled with, but her position of authority was clear.
“Aye, ma lady,” came two deep voices. Abigail glanced back to see Douglas’s horse only had a plaid over its back and another wrapped around its hoof. Douglas mounted on the back of his brother Daniel’s horse, riding pillion with him. He held the reins to his horse. With a double rider, Daniel’s horse struggled to plod along, but they were all surprised when Douglas’s horse no longer complained. The injured steed limped behind the others, but they made their way clear of the pass. When they entered the meadow, Ronan breathed easier. The open space was just as dangerous and exposed to the elements, but he didn’t worry about them becoming trapped. The snow fell faster and heavier, but they found shelter once visibility was almost completely gone. Just as they had the previous nights, Abigail lay down on her bedroll near the fire, and Ronan lay near her. Once the steady snores of the men filled the air, Ronan slid behind Abigail and wrapped her in his arms. In her sleep, she nuzzled closer and burrowed into his warmth. Ronan was back where he lay down as the camp came awake, but he knew every man was aware of what he did, since they surely saw him during their turn at watch. But they understood he did it to protect Abigail in the below-freezing night air, and none said anything to keep her from embarrassment. While neither said it aloud, Ronan and Abigail discovered neither wanted to sleep without the other, even after their journey was through.
Eleven
“Abigail!” Maude MacLeod rushed to greet her sister-by-marriage. Maude wrapped her arm around Abigail’s shoulder as she propelled her toward the fire. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded at the stranger who entered the keep with Abigail’s arm wrapped around his.
“Ronan MacKinnon,” Kieran’s voice traveled across the Great Hall. “Ye must be turned around. Ye came to the wrong isle.” The two lairds came to stand before one another, sizing each other up before sticking out their arms to shake forearms. Ronan looked at Abigail, who peeled off the MacKinnon plaid, then her two extra MacLeod ones before she reached the MacLeod plaid that served as her arisaid. She kept that one on and pulled it tighter around her shoulders. Abigail looked at Ronan, then down at his plaid, which she’d worn as an extra layer for the past week. Reflexively, she pulled it against her, fearful someone might snatch it from her.
