Page 23 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

She could see it. “It is as if the land is its own fortress.”

“Aye. ‘Tis. Lowlanders try tae tame it. Highlanders learn tae rise an’ fall with the hills and valleys, the lochs and the cliffs.” There was an unmistakable pride in his voice, and Grace found herself looking at the land around them with new eyes.

“How long will we be in the Lowlands?”

“We’ll cross intae the Highlands sometime taeday.” Ewan gave a wry smile. “Mayhap mornin’ taemorrow. ‘Tis why those men were so vocal…. so close tae the border, folk in opposite villages are either the best o’ friends or the worst o’ rivals.”

Whar he said made her think of her friendship with Niamh. But there was a note in his voice that sounded as though there was a story there about him. Perhaps several stories. For the first time, Grace wondered about those tales, about the life Ewan had lived. He was a warrior and the brother of a lord - a laird as they called them in the Highlands - but what else was he?

She longed to ask, to search for answers and tales to match the ones she had shared the night before. But it was only fair to let Ewan tell his story in his own time, if indeed he felt like telling her anything at all. She was, after all, just an English lass.

And yet, what reason did she have to remain ‘just an English lass’? She’d spent many years envying Niamh for her freedom. And now she was riding across Scotland in the care of a Highlander, so why shouldn’t she try to experience more of the life that Niamh had always known? Even if, eventually, she would be forced to return to the suffocating confines of her uncle’s estate, she would have these memories.

The thought made it easier to relax into the saddle and enjoy the steady pace. The first two days had been painful beyond belief, but between Ewan’s watchful care and his salve, she had recovered, and now her muscles only twinged the way they did after candle-marks at any task. She was rather proud of her progress, and the knowledge that her uncle would have been furious to see her sitting astride a horse made it all the sweeter.

She looked around at the surrounding landscape once more. “It is beautiful country.”

“Aye.” Ewan frowned. “Unfortunately, ‘tis nae the most forgiving o’ countries fer sleepin’ under the stars.”

Grace swallowed. “You mean…”

“We may have tae sleep in the open fer a night.”

Grace bit her lip. Sleeping in barns and cobbled together huts was one thing - but to sleep under the open sky, where wolves or weather might cause them harm? “But… can we not continue riding until we reach a village?”

Ewan grunted. “’Tis nae impossible, but ‘tis considered unwise tae ride after nightfall. The roads are rough, an’ a misstep in the dark can lame a horse. Or send ye intae the jaws o’ wolves. Or worse.”

“Worse?” What could be worse than wolves?”

Ewan smiled. “There’s all manner o’ strange beings in the Highlands. Fae folk. ‘Tis nae impossible tae encounter them. ‘Tis why nay Highlander will attempt tae catch a horse seen under moon and starlight. ‘Tis just as like tae be a pooka as ‘tis a moor pony. Or a kelpie, if ye’re by the lochs.”

Grace shivered. “And you would feel safe sleeping outside?”

She couldn’t imagine risking such an encounter, on top of the other dangers she knew of, but Ewan only shrugged. “Fire will protect ye from most things, good cover from others, an’ a Scotsman kens how tae stay safe from the rest of the dangers.”

But I am not a Scotsman… or a Scotswoman.

Still, if Ewan was confident of his ability to keep them safe, then she would trust him, as she had thus far. “Very well. If you judge it to be necessary, then I am not opposed to spending a night or two out in the open.”

“Are ye sure?”

“I am.” She wasn’t, but she didn’t want Ewan to think she was weak or soft. Besides, she was curious. She had never slept outside before.

“If ye’re sure, then we’ll press on till dusk. We’ll look fer a stand o’ likely trees or an overhang in the rocks.” Ewan nudged his horse into a slightly faster gait, and Grace followed suit.

She wasn’t sure what she thought about the idea of sleeping on bare ground, especially if there was a chance that a storm could occur in the night. Or about the fact that wolves might get them. Or about the weather turning cold, as it had on occasion.

However, now that she’d agreed, she wasn’t going to change her mind. And perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as she feared. After all, she’d never slept in a barn or a messenger’s hut before this journey began, and both had been… tolerable.

The sun was low in the sky when Ewan found what he was looking for - a stand of trees near a low rock outcropping. It was a place he recalled passing by and marking as a potential camping site. The rocks and trees formed a rudimentary shelter that would protect from storms. There were no signs of wolves denning, or bandits using the space as a recent shelter, which meant it was relatively safe from predators, at least for the night.

Ewan guided the horses to the spot and dismounted. “We’ll camp here fer the night.”

He half expected a protest, but Grace nodded and dismounted. She still moved a bit stiffly, but she was far more comfortable than she’d been days before. Without protest, she led the mare over to the other horses and began to assist him with removing the tack and setting aside the packs for the night. Once they were done with that, she hesitated. “I have no experience… how does sleeping outdoors work?”

“The same as sleepin’ anywhere else, I suppose.” Ewan spotted the serious expression on her face and relented from his efforts at teasing. “We’ll spread the horse blankets on the ground for some cover, build a fire, make some food.”

“And use… our cloaks for blankets?”