Angus drummed his fingers on the tabletop, then made a fist. Could he?
Brodric grinned. “Ye do care for her.”
Angus nodded. “Aye.”
“Then let me give ye a word of advice, my friend.” Brodric’s expression turned serious. “Dinna hurt the lass, or ye’ll deal with me. Make up yer daft mind. But most of all, do what yer heart tells ye to do.”
* * *
With her heart in her throat, Shona went to help the other women put away the remains of the midday meal. The council elder had just announced to the gathered clan Angus had been named chief of MacAnalen by proclamation of the council. She knew that meant he’d have to find a bride outside the clan. That’s what lairds did. He had no siblings to offer up in his place.
He could never marry her.
The thought made her chest hollow out. She, who did not wish to marry, was grieving over losing Angus to his clan. That made no sense, yet she felt it in her bones. She was happy for him, happy he’d gotten the position and recognition he’d clearly earned. But she couldn’t help being sad for herself. Miserable, actually. The hollow space where her heart should be started to ache, and tears burned behind her eyes. She fought them back, swallowed, and reminded herself what marriage to Angus would mean now he was laird. She’d be under constant scrutiny, which she could not risk. She clenched her teeth and focused on the job she was supposed to be doing, not borrowing trouble, nor pining over the new Laird MacAnalen.
Another storm was coming fast, judging by the way clouds piled up on the horizon and the wind kicked up again. Shona could see the dark haze of a rain shower moving up the glen. When they finished putting away the remains of the meal, she and Christina collected anything the wind could carry off and stored it away in a nearby finished croft. The others had scattered to their own homes, or returned to the chores they’d been doing before the meal. While she worked, Shona kept an eye on Angus and some of the men frantically tying down the latest beams they’d hauled up onto the new wall.
She paused, heart in her throat, watching them, fearful a sudden gust would unbalance and send them tumbling to the ground. But then Angus stood and nodded.
They’d finished before the storm hit.
He motioned for the other men to climb down from their perch, and Shona breathed a sigh of relief. Watching them move toward safety on the ground, Angus waited until the other men were all climbing down the scaffolding before he, too, started working his way across his beam to the scaffolding.
Suddenly, the sky filled with light. Shona’s gasped breath tasted metallic. Then a deafening crack made her jump. The hair on the back of her neck lifted. Another loud crack broke the stillness as everyone froze in place, then a rustle of leaves gave warning. Over the new hall, a heavy branch split from the oak tree just hit by lightning and dropped onto the nearest wall. Then the oak’s trunk split in two along the line of fire visible from crown to ground. Slowly, ponderously, half fell toward the new structure.
Shonapushedas she ran toward the hall, trying to hold back the disaster she saw unfolding. She saw Angus fall and tried tocatchhim as the tree crashed onto the hall, collapsing the scaffolding, walls, and roof. But too much happened too fast, in too many directions, and she couldn’t stop any of it.
Nay! Angus!
Shona worked her way toward the center of the wreckage, frantically calling Angus’s name. Part of the wall and some roof timbers had held together and, propped up other rubble, forming a loose cover. Most of the tree’s leafy crown had landed beyond the hall’s structure, but the scorched trunk, still burning and smoking, lay across piles of debris.
She prayed no one was underneath. People called out, swearing and screaming in pain. Others ran to try to shift stones and timbers to get to them. The wind howled, a nerve-rattling dissonance against their cries.
Another branch fell, shaking the remaining structure, and Shona froze in between two broken sections of stone wall. Would the other half of the tree come down as well? Toward the hall or away from it? What could she do? What should she do? She turned a full circle, horrified by the scene around her. Most of the clan had to be in or on the wreckage, trapped or trying to free those who were. Shona shuddered. She couldn’t help them all, not all at once, no matter how much she wanted to.
A new gust of wind and a sudden roar announced a heavy downpour. Rain collected and poured in streams off every surface. With the next loud crack, she heard more things falling and more screams. She whirled in time to see the other half of the oak topple, taking a smaller birch tree with it. Then something hit the back of her head. Everything went dark, and she heard nothing more.
* * *
Angus fought to get out from under the roof timber and rubble around and over him, but lying on his belly with both arms underneath his body, he couldn’t move enough to push off any debris. He was trapped. The last thing he’d seen before the rain started coming down in sheets, blinding him, was movement, and he hoped it had been someone coming to free him. Somewhere nearby, the sound of a crying bairn got swallowed up by the downpour. The storm had brought early darkness with it, so he depended on his hearing to understand what was going on around him. He was certain that first flash had been lightning. It split a tree onto the hall, knocking it down. He wasn’t sure how many people had been inside the partially finished shell, but he prayed they’d all gotten out.
Water dripped on his head and trickled down his face, sometimes running into his nose. He wished he could wipe it away. He lay in some sort of depression, one of many that would have been filled and smoothed out when the walls and roof were done. That indentation had saved him from being crushed when everything crashed down, but now rainwater collected in it and he feared ending up like his brother, half drowned in a shallow pool. How ironic to drown in his own hall instead of the loch.
Being laird of clan MacAnalan was more dangerous than anyone knew.
Lightning flashed, giving Angus a glimpse of what lay over him. Too much. More than he could hope to escape on his own. He found himself wishing Shona did have a talent like the healer’s and could move things with a gesture. Still, he knew better than to count on her—such talents were unreliable.
Then a rumble of thunder made everything shake, and he started praying nothing else fell. How many people were injured? How many dead? He tried to twist and worm his way out from under the debris trapping him, but he barely had room to breathe. He could lift his head far enough to see over the edge of the depression he lay in, but that was all. He hurt all over. The dull ache actually relieved his mind just a bit. No sharp pain meant no bones were broken—he hoped. A laird needed to be able to fight for his clan. So did the rest of his men, and judging by the agonized cries he heard, some would have a long recovery ahead—if they survived.
Finally, a low, feminine chant reached his ears. Shona! What was she doing in the ruins of the hall? Timbers and chunks of rock wall surrounded them on all sides and slanted over their heads. Her voice came to him faint and slurred, but loud enough he could make out some of her words. Prayers, mostly. But her next words nearly stopped his heart.
“Save these people, and I’ll go. I’ll never bother any of them again.”
A chill skittered over Angus that had nothing to do with being wet and trapped. What did she mean? Was she trapped and bargaining with God to die? Nay, he could not let that happen. He struggled harder.
