Page 7 of A Highlander for the English Widow

“Is anyone there?” he asked.

The cry stopped suddenly. He glanced back at Amanda, who was creeping behind him. Logan continued on and walked past the wagon. The stack of crates was the likeliest place for anyone to hide, and he began to wonder if it was a trap. The person seemed to be in distress, but he could never be too sure. His fingers curled even tighter around the handle of the dagger and he widened his stance, bracing himself in case anyone leaped out at him and tried to attack him. He took a deep breath and then rounded the corner, his dagger at the ready, but he was not going to need it.

He had almost expected to find someone his own height, but his gaze traveled down to see a girl cowering against the crates, trembling with fear. Her curled hair was greasy and matted, and her face was smudged… No, that wasn’t quite accurate. When she looked up at him, he saw that she was bleeding. He put the dagger away and bent down to examine her wounds, but she pressed herself tightly against the crates and shook her head vigorously.

“Nay! Nay, get away from me!” she cried.

There was no escaping the pain in her voice, and Logan wondered what could have done that to her. He reached down to try and catch her because he didn’t want her hurting herself, but she moved more quickly than he anticipated and wriggled through his legs. He turned to see her darting around the crates, running out of the alley, but she only got as far as Amanda.

“Hey there, slow down,” Amanda said. “We’re not going to hurt you. I’m Amanda, and this is Logan Stirling. We heard you crying. We’re here to help you,” she said.

The girl looked stunned for a moment but then softened. She gasped in pain; Logan noticed blood trickling down her face, making it seem as though dark rivers were flowing.

“Look at you,” Amanda gasped, crouching down so that she was at eye level with the girl. “What happened to you?” she asked, but the girl was silent.

Logan looked around with an inscrutable gaze to see if there was any sign of anyone in close proximity, but the only sound he could hear was the faint echo of the market. He walked back and stood beside Amanda, still ready to guard her and the girl if anyone should try and attack them. The girl sniffed with sorrow and wouldn’t stop trembling.

“We should get her tae a healer,” he said.

“There’s no time for that. She’s not going to move. Here, give me your knife,” she said.

Logan looked at her with uncertainty. Amanda held out her hand insistently and looked at him expectantly, arching her eyebrows. It was clear that she was not going to take no for an answer. She took the knife and cut away some of her dress, sighing a little as she took a bottle that she had bought at the market and held the cloth against the top. She then proceeded to clean the girl’s face. The blood was wiped away, leaving a crimson smear, and the dirty smudges were cleansed too. It became clear that the wound was at the top of the girl’s head, near her hairline, and the blood continued to trickle from it. Amanda handed the knife back to Logan and pressed the cloth against the wound, putting enough pressure on it that the girl whimpered with pain.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the only thing I can do to try and stop the bleeding. Oh, look at you… What happened to you? What’s your name?” Amanda asked, but there was no reply from the girl. Only whimpers and sobs tumbled out of her mouth.

Amanda looked up at Logan. “Do you recognize her?” she asked.

Logan shook his head. “She could be anyone’s,” he said. “What’s yer name, lass?” he asked, his voice having the deep baritone of a command. The girl was too young to understand that the laird’s son was giving her an order.

“There’s only so much I can do here,” Amanda said, pulling the bloody rag off and muttering at the dark scarlet stain. The cut wasn’t deep, but it kept bleeding; if they didn’t do something, then the girl’s face was only going to be covered in blood again. Amanda turned back to the girl, placing the cloth back onto her head. “Is there anything you can tell us? Are your parents close by?” Amanda asked, but again there was nothing. The girl merely clung to Amanda like a limpet, wrapping her arms around Amanda’s waist. Amanda gave Logan a helpless look.

Logan sighed. “Look, we need tae get her tae a healer. There’s one back at the keep. Give the girl tae me and I’ll take her there,” he said.

Amanda looked shocked at the suggestion. “The poor thing is frightened out of her mind! I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s not going to be able to go anywhere.”

“I’ll put her over my shoulder if I hae tae, but she cannae stay here. She needs tae see someone,” Logan replied.

“I don’t disagree, but I don’t think she’s going to be that easy to move, and I don’t want to put her through even more trauma. There’s only one thing for it; I shall have to go with you,” Amanda said.

Logan hadn’t wanted to stop spending time with her, but this wasn’t how he had planned the evening to go.

Amanda drew back and looked the girl in the eye. “I know you’re very scared right now, and I know that you don’t want to move, but staying in this alley isn’t the best place for us. Logan here has kindly offered to take us back to his keep. It’s only a short journey, and I’m sure there will be lots of food waiting for us. We can have a nice warm meal, and we’ll get that nasty cut looked at, yes?” Amanda spoke in a gentle voice, but the girl seemed to become more and more scared. It was only when Amanda assured the girl that she would be with her every step of the way that she calmed down. Logan was touched by the display of compassion and tenderness Amanda showed, though, and how she was able to form a bond with the girl despite only having known her for moments. It showed the kind soul she possessed, and it was a rare talent indeed.

They walked slowly, the girl shuffling alongside Amanda and Amanda going at the pace that the girl was comfortable with. Logan thought it was going to take them an age to return to the keep at this pace, but he kept his concerns to himself and instead busied himself with examining the horizon. There had to be someone who had given this girl the cut. It hadn’t happened from out of nowhere, but where had she come from? There didn’t seem to be anyone suspicious around, but for a crime to happen this close to the keep was worrying indeed.

The path to the keep kept them away from the market, so they didn’t have to worry about the girl becoming overwhelmed or for anyone to begin asking them questions. Market day was a prime day for a crime of this nature as the heavy crowd would have given the assailant an ideal opportunity to flee without being suspected. Logan hoped the girl would talk sooner rather than later, else they may not discover who was responsible.

As they walked along, he glanced at Amanda, impressed with her spirit and determination to do whatever she could to help this girl she had just met. As the laird in all but title, it was Logan’s duty to do whatever he could to help this child (although, given his nature, he likely would have done it anyway; to see a girl like that in such distress brought back memories). However, Amanda did not have such a duty to follow. This was entirely her own choice, her own decision. She could have busied herself with whatever hobbies she had in her fine estate, but instead she was walking along with a scared child, telling the girl all about the flowers and the trees and the birds around them, pointing out squirrels as they scurried along, and generally making the whole thing feel like an adventure.

Logan found himself smiling. In another life, this would have made an idyllic scene if Amanda and the girls weren’t so much like strangers to him.

5

Amanda’s heart was filled with worry and concern for the fate of this girl. Actually, there was a myriad of emotions running through her mind. Anger was certainly present, as raw and pure as the dawning sun at the thought of the person who had done this to her. The fact that the girl was so tight-lipped meant that she was scared. The wound she suffered looked as though it had been from another adult, or at least someone older. However, Amanda’s inclination was to believe that it was an adult. They could well be cruel to children.

While she strolled along and pointed out the bright blooming flowers of the Highlands or a grey-furred squirrel that clung to a tree, her mind harbored dark thoughts. There were moments when she was actually glad that she had never discovered she was with child, for she feared to think what kind of a father Hamilton would have been. If he was cruel to her then what would he be like with a child? He was a man who expected everyone around him to act in the way he wanted, and she didn’t think that would change with a child. Would he have struck a child the way this girl had been struck? She wasn’t sure because the tongue was Hamilton’s choice, striking as true and as sharp as a whip. Sometimes a tongue like that could do more damage than a fist or a knife.

As she thought about Hamilton, she compared him to the man walking a few paces ahead of her at a diagonal angle. His eyes were as sharp as a hunter, and his gaze scanned the forest for signs of danger, although there didn’t seem to be any lurking in the shadows. But Amanda was no hunter, and she was certain there were things in the forest of which she was not aware. Logan was of impressive stature, with a broad frame, lean and muscular in all the ways a man should be. He was quite the contrast to Hamilton, who was soft and fleshy, preening his hair like a bird would with feathers. Logan was rugged, a man of the wild who had been forged in the hard ways of the Highlands. His eyes were piercing, his jaw strong, and the way he had acted to protect this child without hesitation clearly demonstrated that he had a noble heart as well. Perhaps it was even too noble, for he seemed to think he could handle this all by himself, but Amanda was not going to allow herself to be left behind.