Her heart fell. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the slimy bark of a wet branch. The voice belonged to Ronan.
The sucking sounds of multiple pairs of boots working their way down the wet earth of the steep hillside grew louder. Something fell across her back, followed by two more thumps of a limp object being draped around her body, then snugged tighter around her middle with several sharp jerks. It had to be ropes, or leather reins. She pushed up from the bundle of branches cradling her upper body and squinted through the soft gray light of the misty morning. Big mistake. She wasn’t snagged in the top of the tree. Her bed was the mangled root system of an ancient oak felled beside the edge of a ravine. At present, she dangled over a steep drop that was high enough to make her nauseous. Even the flannel-like fog settling among the trees below couldn’t camouflage the dizzying depths of the ravine.
“Tie off securely, lads. The ground is weak from the night’s rain and this morning’s shift in temperature.” The woods echoed with rustling brush and the huffing grunts of men moving up and down the hillside. “Make haste, my fine men. The tree could go at any time.” Ronan’s deep voice held no fear, just sheer determination. “Grab the ropes around yer waist, lass. Tuck into a wee ball and keep your arms close to yer body, aye?”
She tucked her elbows against her ribs while silently praying,Please let this work. Please let me survive this so I can find Colum.After a deep breath, she curled into as tight a knot around the lifeline lashed around her waist that she could manage and tensed to hold the position. Her arms and legs felt numb, whether from the freezing temperature or shock, she didn’t know. But she knew they had to hurry. She couldn’t endure this much longer.
“It will all be over soon, lass.” Ronan’s calming voice came from several feet higher up the hillside.
That is exactly what she feared.She pressed her cracked, muddy lips tighter together and closed her eyes.
A sudden yank expelled the wind from her lungs. She yelped when a second gut-wrenching jolt launched her into the air. With her chin tucked to her chest, she prayed Ronan and his men knew what the devil they were doing. A creaking groan rumbled through the trees. Then snapping wood and a thunderouswhooshroared just below her. She landed against the muddy embankment where the tree had just been. A soft thud sounded far below as the tree shuddered to a stop at the bottom of the gully.
Strong hands gently gathered her up against a hard chest. Calloused fingers wiped muddy hair out of her face. “Are ye hurt? Do ye have any pain?”
Kenna opened her eyes to Ronan’s concerned gaze. She eased in a deep breath and released it with a slow careful sigh. “I don’t think I’m hurt. Nothing hurts very much—at least not any worse than I can stand.”
Relief filled his face as he accepted a soft hank of leather from one of his men and gently wiped more mud off her face. “Ye are a fine brave woman, Lady Kenna. A fine brave woman indeed.”
She squirmed up into a sitting position and stretched to look around the mist-covered wood. “We have to find Colum.”
A cold mask shuttered down across Sutherland’s face as though someone had lowered a curtain. “The man surely lies dead at the bottom of yon ravine.” He yanked the ties away from her waist and tossed the tangled mess to Ian. “I shall have the lads set a cairn along the roadside so his family will know his body lies at rest here in the wood.”
A combination of denial, disbelief, and pure rage exploded in a rush of energizing adrenaline through Kenna. “He is not dead.” Her voice shook with the conviction of her words. She yanked herself away from Ronan’s outstretched hands and stumbled to her feet. “I would know it if he was . . . He isnotdead.”
“Steady now, ere ye end up down there with him.” The thin blanket of mist swirled across the ground like a writhing spirit as Ronan jumped to grab hold of her elbow.
She twisted away, forcing her cold, stiff fingers into the tattered folds of her skirt, and grappling the heavy wet wool of the cloak as high to her knees as her shaking arms could manage. She wallowed upward across the broken hillside. Colum was not dead. No way. No how.All they had to do was find him, and by golly, she wasn’t leaving this muddy hellhole until they did.
“He . . . ” She gasped and panted against the burning pain stabbing her side. “He is not dead, and I am not leaving here until we find him.”
Ronan’s men backed away as she thrashed past them. She didn’t miss how they all looked to their master, then bowed their heads when he frowned and shook his head.
Kenna stopped, whirled around, and shook a fist at all of them. “He is not dead,” she shouted, her voice breaking into a hiccupping sob. Damn them all. If they would just listen and help her find Colum, she would prove it.
“Find the man before she starts another landslide.” Ronan flicked a hand toward the
fog-shrouded hill as he climbed up the steep incline. His scowling gaze searched the wood as he spoke. “Take care walking through the mist. Brid’s soft gray blanket hides the treachery of the land.”
The panic cutting off her air lessened a bit as Ronan’s men fanned out across the hillside. Good. If they all moved in a slow line down through the wood, surely, they would find Colum soon. Tensed seconds stretched into agonizing minutes. The only sound stirring through the woods was the slow steady shuffling of the men working their way through the thick mulch covering the forest floor.
“Master!” Liam called out from the left, a few feet below Kenna. “Here he lies,” he bellowed up through the fog.
She bunched her skirts up to her knees and ran. Uprooted saplings twisted her boots and threw her to the ground. She ignored the searing pain across her shins and the warm sticky wetness that could only be fresh blood. She’d had skinned legs before. She didn’t give a damn about anything but getting to Colum.
Liam’s solemn face loomed up from the swirling fog as she slid around a jagged pile of stones and mangled saplings. “Take care, Lady Sutherland, ere ye land on him.”
She flapped at the mist at her knees. “Damn, this wicked stuff.” It was as though the fog was some evil entity trying to hide Colum from her. A crackling torch blazed through the air beside her, dissipating the heavy moist air away from the ground.
“Colum—no.” Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground. She pressed her cold muddy fists against her mouth and swallowed hard against the pounding need to scream.
His head and a bit of his upper chest, right arm, and bent right leg were the only parts of his body not buried beneath large broken chunks of limestone, splintered branches, and glistening mounds of mud. His free hand clenched the ground at his side as though he was wrestling the earth.
The part of his chest Kenna could see was entirely too still. Please. Breathe.She stared at the base of his throat, praying for the slightest movement. His jaw barely moved as a strained swallow shifted the muscles of his neck. The pallor of his skin had taken on a deathly grayish tinge. He was alive but didn’t look as though he would last much longer.
“Colum.” She crawled closer, biting her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. Her heart leapt as his eyes slowly opened and he labored to turn his head toward her. “Colum.” She reached out again. “You can’t leave me.” Hot tears raced down her cheeks as she brushed shaking fingers across his cold cheek.
“Dinna cry, love.” He flinched as he lifted his free hand and touched a finger to her face.
