As we rode on, he continued,“If you could follow your dream and become a writer, would you stay in Edinburgh?”
“No, I would love to find a little cottage like my gran’s in Oban. I would write fanciful tales while looking over a loch and make pies for every meal. Raise sheep in the spring and spin their wool into yarn that I could knit in the winter by the fireplace,”I told him as my mind wandered off into my daydreams.“I much prefer the country over the city,”I concluded.
“I think that is a fine dream. Do you mind if I share it with you?”he asked, giving me a smile that sent waves of heat racing up my chilled body and set the butterflies dancing in my stomach once again.
“You may,”I smiled back.
“What of children? Do you not dream of little feet running through the tall grass of your glen and chasing after your sheep?”The question caught me off guard as I had not thought much of being a mother until recently, after meeting little Alice.
“Yes, someday I hope to be a mother. And you?”I asked.
“Yes, I hope to have lots of little ones to chase after.”
A spark ignited in his eyes as he spoke, and I thought back to how he was with little Alice. He would make a fine husband someday to a fortunate woman and a loving father to his children. Yet, I reminded myself that my blood was not of noble descent, quelling any fantasies I might entertain. We carried on our journey in silence as the wind picked up, making it hard to hear one another. The progress was slower than we had anticipated as the snow began to fall once again. Our horses were having a hard time keeping pace. James slowed as we reached a high point on the road, the relentless snowfall obscuring our surroundings.
“I estimate we are an hour south of the loch, but with this heavy snowfall, it’s difficult to be certain,”he remarked, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. Unfamiliar with the landscape, I could offer little assistance in finding crucial landmarks as we continued our journey. James stopped several times to ensure we remained on the proper route, the road disappearing beneath a thick blanket of snow, making it challenging to discern our path.
“The loch is just ahead at the end of this forest!”James’s voice cut through the wind.
We pressed on, but the forest grew denser, the snowfall reducing visibility to mere feet ahead. I trailed behind James, the narrow path forcing us into single file as the forest closed in around us.
Suddenly my horse’s ears perked up, sensing something amiss. A feeling of unease settled upon me, and I scanned the forest for any sign of danger. Nothing met my eyes, but an ominous feeling of being watched lingered with me. Glancing behind once again, I found nothing, but as I faced forward, my horse reared up, letting out a thunderous whinny and slamming its front hooves onto the snow-covered ground.
James turned at the sound of the commotion, his eyes widening in alarm. With swift reflexes, he spun his horse around, attempting to reachme before disaster struck, but I was already slipping from the saddle, my grip on the reins the only thing keeping me tethered. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds around me. James shouted something, his expression filled with concern, but his words were lost on me. The horse reared again, sending me tumbling to the ground. Pain shot through me as my leg collided with a rock hidden beneath the snow.
I cried out in agony, the sound piercing the icy air. Startled by my scream, the horse bolted, fleeing back the way we had come. James reached me just as my horse galloped off into the swirling snow. Grave concern washed over James’s face.
“No!”I called out, my voice filled with anguish as the horse vanished from sight.
“Cora!”James yelled, swiftly dismounting his horse and rushing to my side, extending a hand to help me back up onto my feet.
“I think my leg might be injured,”I replied shakily, taking his hand and attempting to stand. The pain in my ankle was unbearable, and I couldn’t put any pressure on it.
“I don’t think I can walk,”I admitted, wincing as I lifted my foot off the ground.
“Let me have a look,”he said, dropping down to his knees and lifting my skirt, gently unlacing my boot to inspect my ankle.“Your ankle is already beginning to swell. It may be broken. Let me carry you over to the horse.”
James carefully laced my boot loosely and then effortlessly scooped me up, carrying me as if I weighed little more than a feather. He brought me to the horse, and with a bit of effort, I managed to throw my good leg up and over, pulling myself upright. I bit my bottom lip as the pain shot through me while James mounted the horse.
“You best hold on to me. This terrain is about to become steep,”James advised.
I took in a deep breath before wrapping my arms around him. I could feel thewarmth spreading through my body as I embraced him, pulling myself close. I breathed in his scent and felt his breath quicken at my touch. A familiar ache deepened in my belly as something primal stirred within me, rising to the surface and easing the discomfort in my leg.
Once I had secured myself around him, he nudged the horse, and we began trotting up the last bit of the trail before the clearing. As we entered back into the open sky, the snow began letting up, and the loch was visible in the distance.
“Will the horse fare well?”I inquired, glancing over my shoulder toward the woods where it had bolted. My concern for the creature’s safety in this weather grew with each passing moment.
“That horse has traveled this path before. It should find its way back to Malcolm’s without trouble,”James reassured me.
My ankle throbbed with each movement of the horse as we drew nearer to the loch, each jolt sending a sharp pain up my leg. The thrill I had felt at being near James swiftly diminished, overtaken by the growing dread that my injured leg might prevent me from gathering the rowanberries. I scanned the landscape for the tree, silently praying its branches would still have berries on them as any that might have fallen to the ground would have long been buried by the snow. Darkness was now descending rapidly, and even with the snow letting up, visibility was becoming increasingly difficult, and I strained my eyes to see into the distance. As we approached Loch Ness, James slowed his pace and came to a stop near the water’s edge.
“Strange, the loch looks to be completely frozen over. The Cailleach must be nearby,”he said, turning back and giving me a playful smile.“Do you see the tree yet?”
I looked around at the scattering of trees along the loch’s shoreline but did not see the rowan tree I was seeking.“Not yet.”
James gave me a nod and continued along the water’s edge, moving north. Though I must have read the spell a hundred times, I wished to be certain I collected the berries correctly, yet I could not bring forth thebook in James’s presence. I loosened one arm from around his waist and felt my bag, checking to make sure the book was still there. Relieved to feel its corners, I wrapped my arm back around him and at the same time caught something out of the corner of my eye. Off to our left, just a short distance up the trail, was a small tree with snow covering its branches, but there was no mistaking the little red berries that hid beneath it, turning the snow a soft pink.
Chapter Forty-Two
