“Don’t leave me,” she begged again as she wiped the mud from his face and pressed her lips against his deathly cold forehead.
He closed his eyes. A smile pulled his bleeding, cracked lips to one side. “Ye couldna drive me from yer side with a whip. I will never leave ye,mo chridhe.”A wheezing groan escaped him as he lifted his hand to her matted hair. “I willna go anywhere without ye. I swear it.”
She pulled back and clawed at the mounds of earth crushing him. Shards of stone ripped open the flesh of her fingers, but she kept digging—she had to get him out.
He stirred and weakly raked his hand across the mud at his chest. “That’s it, lass. We will have me free in no time. Keep digging, my precious love. Keep digging.” His eyelids sagged shut and his hand went limp.
Panic pounded through her. “Open yer eyes. Stay with me.” She tried to shake him by his exposed shoulder. “Colum!”
“I am with ye still, lass. Keep digging.” He didn’t open his eyes, just flailed his hand back and forth across the ground. “I am with ye, lass. I swear it.”
Panic spurred her on. His voice was growing weaker, his words labored and slurred. Bloody mud soon coated her hands and arms as she battled against the shifting hillside. She didn’t care how long it took—she was going to dig him out.
“Ye must stop!” Strong hands latched onto her shoulders and lifted her away from the stubborn pile of earth holding her sweet Colum prisoner.
She whirled about, still clawing, and landed blows against Ronan’s chest. “He is alive. Didn’t you hear him talking to me? He’s alive. We have to get him out—now!”
Ronan didn’t say a word, just tightened his grip on her shoulders and shook her as he turned her to face Colum. “Look at him. Look at his color. The man waits just this side of death’s door. It will not be much longer afore he crosses over.” He shook her harder and pointed her at Colum’s ever-weakening motions against the pile of earth on him. “Make yer good-byes to the man whilst he can still hear ye and carry yer words with his spirit to the other side.”
“No!” she sobbed and yanked herself free. She sank back to the ground at Colum’s side and started scooping at the mud again. “No,” she said with a cold dead calm as Colum gasped out a labored breath and seized her hand. “We have to get him out. If we get him to Trulie and Granny, they can heal him.” Her hands and knees sank into the cold, soft ground as she huddled closer to her precious love. He could not die. She refused to allow it.
She inched up against Colum’s side, still pawing away the mud clumped on his chest. After wiping her muddy hands on her dress, she shifted his face toward her. “I am going to get you out. I will not leave you here to die.”
He forced his eyes open and managed a weak smile. “I just need a wee bit of rest and then I’ll help ye. Aye, lass?”
Hot tears streamed faster down her face as his eyes fluttered shut. His skin was getting colder. His breathing was becoming shallower. She sucked in a deep shuddering breath. Ronan Sutherland was going to listen to her or she would make sure he regretted the day he was born. “Help me get Colum out. Help me get him back to the keep.”
Kenna didn’t look up as she spoke, just kept her gaze fixed on the shallow rise and fall of Colum’s chest. If she didn’t look away, Colum would keep breathing. A tiny part of her knew the idea was foolish, but it didn’t matter. She would do whatever it took to keep her Colum alive.
“Can yer sister bring back the dead?” Ronan squatted down beside her. He pointed at Colum. “I know ye dinna wish to let him go but look at the man. He is at his end.” Ronan’s tone was quiet and gentle, like a priest speaking to a grieving widow.
Colum’s eyes fluttered back open and he faced Ronan. “Like hell I am.” He flinched as an uncontrollable cough shook free of him. Kenna shoved more mud off his chest, relieved when the wheezing spasms stopped.
She hugged Colum’s arm to her chest, leaned forward, and smoothed more mud away from his pale cold face. “As long as his heart beats, Trulie and Granny can heal him.” She ignored the voice in the back of her mind reminding her that even Trulie and Granny might not be able to save Colum if the Fates had decided his path through this life was at an end.
“No, Lady Kenna. I canna risk it. More storms nip at our heels and Draegonmare is still many days away. I shall see that he is put out of his misery and granted a merciful end instead of this slow, torturous death. Then a fine cairn shall be built beside the road to mark his passing. But I willna grant him—or you—anything more. I cannot.” Ronan stood and held out a hand to Kenna. “Come. Ian will take ye to the warmth of a fire while I help this brave man on his way.”
“Go straight to hell, ye bastard.” Colum struggled to turn toward Ronan, grimacing as he reached a clawing hand upward. “Ye best bring plenty of help. Ye will find I am not an easy kill.”
Kenna jerked away from Ronan. “You are not going to put him out of his misery. He’s not some maimed dog needing to be put down.” She pressed closer to Colum and hugged his arm back against her.
Tears blinded her as they flowed harder. The pain of her breaking heart made her cough. She couldn’t dig Colum out by herself—they had to help her. She had to convince them. A choking sob caught in her throat as she realized what she had to do. It was the only choice left to her. Colum would hate her, but at least he would be alive. “If you will help me get him out and take him back to MacKenna keep to be healed, I will be your wife. Willingly.”
“No!” Colum’s eyes flew open and he clenched hold of her arm.
Kenna closed her eyes and turned away from the pain and rage in his face. “I have to. It’s the only way.”
“Ye are a vile bastard if ye hold her to such an agreement.” Colum released her and shook his fist at Ronan. “Get me arse free of this pit so we can settle this like men should.”
She opened her eyes and locked on Ronan’s wary gaze. A hiccupping sob tore free of the depths of her soul as she sat straighter. She swallowed hard against rising hysteria as she choked out the words. “I mean it. I swear to you, in front of Colum and your men, if you will help me save him, I will be your wife . . . in every way . . . and I will never leave you. Ever.”
“Ye must not!” Colum roared out the words, weakly pounding his fist on the ground as he strained against the hillside. “Kenna. No!”
She slid out of Colum’s reach and kept her gaze fixed on Ronan. This was her only chance to get Colum out alive. The muscles in Ronan’s jaw twitched as he stared down at her. Kenna took a deep breath against the clashing emotions threatening to shatter her into a weeping pile of hysteria. She extended her right hand and lifted her chin. “You will find I never break my word. It is a matter of honor with a Sinclair. So, tell me: Do we have a deal or not?”
“No! Damn ye. No!” Colum’s words turned to enraged groans as his flailing weakened.
“Ye swear to be my wife even though this man that ye claim to love could verra well live if I choose to save him?” Ronan took a step back, crossed his arms, and stared down her. His scowl deepened into a disbelieving frown.
