“It’s nothing,” she repeated, but her hand trembled as she set down her cup. “I’m just tired from the journey.”
“Well then, ye must stay on a few days, at least,” he replied firmly. “Let yerself recover.”
“There’s nothing to recover from.” But even as she spoke, another cough seized her. This one bent her double, and Alec’s hand went immediately to her back.
When the fit passed, Liza’s face was flushed darker than before. Small beads of sweat dotted her forehead despite the coolness of the hall.
Craeg exchanged a glance with Alec. His stepfather’s expression had turned grim. His sea-blue eyes were now worried.
Lena leaned forward. “Maybe ye should lie down for a bit, Ma?”
“Aye.” Liza put down her pork pie and pushed herself to her feet. “Perhaps I will. Just for a wee while.”
Everyone at the table stood up as well. Alec was at her side immediately, offering his arm. They made their way toward the stairs, Liza leaning against him.
Watching them go, Craeg felt his chest tighten.
“She’ll rally,” Lena said quietly, coming to stand beside him. But her voice lacked its usual confidence.
“Aye.” Craeg flashed his sister a reassuring smile and put an arm around her shoulders. “She always does.”
10: FOR AS LONG AS SHE NEEDS ME
HAZEL’S GAZE KEPT drifting to the shadowed woods beyond her cottage as she groomed Duncan. To the paths that wound through oaks toward Lochbuie village. Were those men still there, asking questions? Had someone finally pointed them in her direction?
Sweeping the hog-bristle brush in steady strokes over Duncan’s smoke-colored coat, she peered through the gnarled trunks of the twisted oaks. She worked methodically, starting at his withers and moving back toward his flanks. The donkey stood placidly, eyes half-closed in contentment. It was peaceful work—the kind that usually calmed her nerves.
But not today.
She’d barely slept the night before, starting at every sound. The creak of branches. The rustle of leaves. A wolf’s howl that had made her reach for the knife beside her pallet.
Running the brush down Duncan’s leg, she tried to focus on the task. On the familiar routine that had anchored her life for so many years. But her mind kept spinning. Should she flee? Pack what she could carry and go to Oban as Siùsan had urged? Or should she stay and hope they’d never find her?
She breathed a curse. She was torn, for she loved this place. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
All the same, she had a decision to make.
Duncan’s ears suddenly flicked forward. He tensed beneath her hands.
Hazel froze, her pulse quickening. She heard it then—the thunder of hooves approaching fast through the trees.
Her hand went for the knife at her belt.
A horse and rider burst into the clearing, a large wolfhound racing at their side, and Duncan let out an ear-splitting bray of alarm.
The stallion reared, eyes rolling white, front hooves pawing the air. Craeg Maclean fought to keep his seat, hauling back on the reins.
“Easy, Ruadh!”
The chestnut stallion came down hard, dancing sideways, ears pinned flat against his skull. Meanwhile, Faolan started barking, a loud, deep sound that echoed through the trees.
Hazel grabbed Duncan’s halter, pulling the donkey behind her. Duncan let out another ear-splitting bray.
Wheeling Ruadh in a tight circle, Maclean managed to put some distance between the animals.The stallion fought the bit, his nostrils flaring. Hazel remembered then how skittish the stallion had been that morning when Rankin had fetched Maclean from her cottage.
Meanwhile, the wolfhound continued to bound around excitedly, making a terrible din.
“Sorry,” the chieftain panted. “He hates donkeys. Always has. Quiet, Faolan!”
