Page 12 of Falling for His Cousin’s Betrothed

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The horses were both exhausted by the time they reached the stream. Laila dropped her reins and allowed her mare to sip the icy water. “I think we should consider the eastern valley side for our descent.” She knew from experience that the western bank was steep, its cliffside often crumbling and unsafe. Her heart raced as the contemplated arriving back at the castle. What would Lyall say to her? Would there even be a conversation? She didn’t want to go back and face her, yet she also knew that she couldn’t withstand another night in the cold outdoors.

“Glencoe Village is just a few miles east. I believe you mentioned being familiar with it.” The man leaned over and looked at Laila. His eyes, a steely gray, were deep-set and thoughtful. Laila’s intuition told her that the attraction she felt toward him was mutual. He seemed to look right through her, and she found herself blushing every time she was caught staring at him.

“Yes. I’ve been there once before, on my way back from Dory Way a few years ago. It was with a castle guard, and we were collecting sheep from the farrier.” Laila recalled with affection how she and Bradley, the guard, had picked blueberries along the way. She longed for a life so innocent once again, in much the way it had been before her father had passed. To her, it seemed as if life then was simply easier, lighter, and without intrusion. Now, she felt as if she were cast at sea, floating in whatever direction the tide dictated, unable to cast a steady anchor.

“I can already see the lights from the village,” said the man, nodding in the direction of Glencoe Valley. “It’s my home—Glencoe.” He nodded and gave Quest a pat on the neck. “Perhaps you’ll join me for a cup of tea when we get there.” He smiled at her again, and her cheeks filled up with rosy fire. What was it about this man that had her so captivated? Before she could ponder it, her mare balked.

“What is it, girl?” Laila straightened in her saddle. “We only a have a few feet to go before we make it to the gravel trail. Press on.” Laila needed her horse to be strong. The smell of the village was right beneath their noses, and she refused to believe that they would even entertain the thought of abandoning their mission.

“Let’s go, Quest. You, too.” The man held his reins high, and Quest tossed his head, agitated. “We are but a mile away, friend.” Quest snorted, lowed his head, and walked on. Laila’s mare did the same, and for the next half hour, neither of them spoke a word except to give directions to their horses. Laila was filled with excitement about stopping off in Glencoe Valley. Maybe this was the answer she’d been looking for, the perfect way to elude the High Castle. After all, if she were safe with the unnamed man and he had already invited her for tea, then what did she need to worry about? The venture sounded more inviting the longer they traveled along together.

“I can see the blacksmith’s stable from here.” The man squinted as they made their way past a small outcropping of trees. Morgan’s Dairy Farm stood off in the distance. Laila watched a few of the Galloway cattle walk, unfazed, to the edge of the hillside where the grass, now green and waving, spread like a carpet across the ground. A few of the traditional Highland cattle ambled along, as well, and Laila smiled, remembering how much her father loved to watch them twitch their tails.

“I think your Quest will need a more tense treatment,” said Laila as they approached the cobblestone path. “He will certainly not make it beyond this point.” She sighed, not wanting to witness the death of such a proud and trustworthy steed, yet knowing in her heart that this animal was no longer fit to travel. They rounded the corner, past the silo and along the rows of harebell, thistle, and anemone.

“Good day.” A tall man in blue overalls tipped his hat as they approached. “Your horse needs attention. The farrier is round back.”

“Thank you, sir.” the man dismounted and led Quest through the stable while Laila sat atop her mare and surveyed the valley. A chipmunk scurried in front of the stable, and Laila chuckled. Her father had always said that chipmunks reminded him of tiny elves, the way they darted to and fro, seeking nuts and berries with which to stuff their elastic-like cheeks. Her amusement, however, was short-lived.

“How is he?” she asked, dismounting from her mare.

“We need to leave him behind. ” The man looked away and took the reins from the mare. “We’re going to leave this one behind, as well. We need a stronger horse to see us through the rest of our journey.” Laila nodded. She knew he was right, even though it pained her to watch the mare be led away. The man turned to the left, and Laila stood, her hands clasped before her, facing Glencoe Valley. When the man returned, he had neither horse with him.

“We’re to walk a short furlough to the stable on York Road. They have a chestnut mare waiting for us. She’s not the strongest of the breed, but she’ll do a better job than what Quest and the mare could do combined. Shall we?” he asked.

Laila nodded, impressed with his ability to make sound decisions in light of adversity. The two walked along the cobblestone path in silence until they reached the road. Just as they were about to make a right for the stable, a man, dressed in red woolen clothes, jumped out from behind the hedgerows and blocked their path forward.

“Freak!” He waved his arms back and forth, then slapped them on his thighs, a wild expression on his face. “You know you’re just a freak!” He craned his neck and got right in front of the man.

“Pardon you,” said the man, giving him a gruff shove with his shoulder.

“You think because you can throw a stone that it makes you a man!” he sneered.

“What do you want?” asked the man , a frown creasing his face. “Carry on.”

“I think you need to be put in your place Robert MacFarlane ,” muttered the man, his greasy hair slicked against his temples.

Robert was looking at the man, trying to understand what he was saying. Was his name Robert? Or the man thinks is another man?

“Excuse me!”, Laila said while looking at the man who was yelling at them. “Did you say Robert MacFarlane? Who is this man?”

“This man that you are traveling with lass. This is Robert MacFarlane and he will learn an important lesson!”

“And you will have an important lesson!” yelled Robert, suddenly filled with ire. Laila backed up as he wound his arm behind his back, then let loose with a sucker punch to the man’s face.

“Arrgh!” The man fell backward and landed in a bed of heather.

“You stay right there,” said Robert.

“I’m not done with you yet!” yelled the man, stumbling as he rose to his feet. Robert scoffed at him, grabbed Laila’s hand and walked forward.

“No!” cried Laila. “You can’t do that!” She wasn’t impressed with his lack of restraint. Embarrassed and also fearful, she took off for the valley, tears rolling down her cheek, convinced that she would have made the rest of this sojourn alone, after all.