Page 40 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

"I win!" she cried, jumping down from her horse. Her face was shining and ecstatic, even if her legs were still a little weak. From his position on the horse, Clyde watched disdainfully.

"Aye, vera good," he said concededly. "But I havenae had my last turn yet."

Fiona felt her heart jump. She had forgotten about that. Nodding stiffly, she pretended she hadn't.

"O' course," she said casually. "Well, go on."

Watching tensely, she waited what felt like an age before Clyde took aim with his arrow. And even then, he did not shoot right away. Instead, he spent seemingly forever going through different poses and angles, trying out each position slowly.

"Some time taeday," complained Fiona. Clyde cocked his head; there was a serious look in his eyes. Inside, Fiona smiled. At last, she had got him on the back foot.

Finally, Clyde took aim. His arrow soared straight overhead in an almost perfect arc. It landed almost straight into the center of the bush beside the tree.

Clyde's face fell.

"Och," he grumped. But then he turned to her. "But I did hit it twice, compared to yer once."

Fiona grinned. "Dinnae fash. Only I got it dead center."

Jumping over, Fiona ran to retrieve the arrows from the tree, taking great delight in pointing out the position of her arrows. Eventually, Clyde's brow flickered into a frown.

"Alright," he said, highly reluctantly. "This time ye win."

Fiona could not stop smiling. By now, they were riding on, the wind streaming through them, spurring the pair of them on across the hillside. But still, she knew she had much to prove, and there was an uneasy truce between them as they rode over the glen.

They rode all day and halfway into the evening. Eventually, the sun was setting. Trotting a bit more slowly, Fiona gazed into the pinkening skies.

"It's all so bonny," she said, staring ahead into the horizon. The birds were settling for the night, perching on the nearby pine trees and singing their hearts out. Even though she was used to the beauty of the Highlands’ hillsides, it still took Fiona's breath away.

Slowing up beside her, Clyde glanced around. "Aye," he said with a grin. "Greenock clan, o' course."

Fiona looked up. She looked into the distance, where on the horizon the bare outline of the Greenock Castle tower could be seen. Fiona had never been there before, but she frowned unsurely.

"What is this bit?" she said, indicating the wooded area where they had stopped. "I thought this was the Duncan clan."

"Nay," said Clyde assuredly. "It isnae. All this is Greenock land."

"But..." said Fiona helplessly. She dived into her knapsack for the ancient map that was in there somewhere. Unfurling it, she looked triumphant. "Aye, look here. This glade here, it's on the map, an' it's down as Duncan land."

"Och," said Clyde, grabbing the map from her hand. He held it up and laughed. "Maybe it was when it was drawn up—about a hundred years ago!"

He was still laughing when he handed it back to her. Exasperated, Fiona took it back, packing it away.

"It's still right," she asserted. "Isnae it?"

Fiona's young eyes looked for assurance, but Clyde just laughed.

"Ye wanna fight me for it?" he said mischievously.

Fiona pouted. Finally, she conceded his point.

"Och, maybe it is a bit auld," she said, then she looked at him. It had been a long day, they had been riding for most of it, and now both they and the horses were tired. Looking around, Fiona decided.

"Right, well, that's it. We're to camp here." She indicated a spot beneath the trees. "It's passably dry here."

The corners of Clyde's mouth turned up. "Here?" he said. She could tell from the expression on his face that he was about to find fault with this.

"What's wrong wi' it?" said Fiona, watching as Clyde got down from his horse and began prodding the ground in a nonplussed fashion.