“Maybe ye’re this one’s accomplice,” the first Boyle deduced, jerking a thumb toward the cateran.
“Me?I offered you the coo,” Hew pointed out.
“Wearegoin’ to take the coo,” the bearded Boyle said.
“Not now you’re not,” Hew informed him.
“What?”he barked.
“Don’t be tellin’uswhat to do,” the beardless Boyle said.“Our da is a laird.”He made a move toward the coo.
Hew blocked the way.
“How dare ye!”the other bellowed, his beard trembling with rage.“When our da finds out about this…” He made a lunge toward the animal.
Hew blocked him as well.
Their frustration erupted in a spate of cursing and spitting and jostling that made Hew feel like he was trying to contain a pair of wildcats chasing after a mouse.
Carenza had heard enough.
She didn’t intend to turn Hamish over to anyone.Nor would she be dragged back home to face the laird.Not even by the handsome axe-wielder who had somehow made his way unscathed through a rioting mass of cattle in a misguided attempt to rescue her.
He couldn’t protect her for long anyway.Any moment, one of the Boyles would recognize her and run tattling to her father.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
While the three fools were scuffling and swearing like suitors fighting over the same maid, she made a bold move.
Surging forward, she took hold of the axe handle in both hands and wrenched it out of the ground.Then she swung the heavy weapon in a wide arc toward the knot of brawling men.
They split apart at once, leaping back with yelps of surprise.
She stepped forward and swung again.
The Boyles squealed.Herbert staggered backwards.Gilbert fell on his arse.
“Hold on,” the Rivenloch warrior said, lifting one palm to her.
It was a brazen gesture.She could have lopped off his hand with her next swing.Not that she would have.Carenza wouldn’t harm a flea.But he didn’t know that.
“You don’t want blood on your hands,” he told her.
She wasn’t afraid of the Boyles.They were cowards.Already they were scrambling away, slipping on the wet grass in their panic.
This man, however, seemed undaunted by the fact he was unarmed while she possessed a weapon that could split him in half.
He took one cautious step forward, and she shook the sharp blade before her in warning.
“Don’t be foolish,” he growled.“You don’t want to hurt anyone.Hand it o’er.”
Another time, she might have succumbed to the lethal power of his voice.He was right.She didn’t want to hurt anyone.She wouldn’t even kill a spider.
But Hamish’s life was at stake.
She shook her head, refusing him.
“I won’t turn you in,” he promised.
