A Laird and a Healer (Rebel Highland Brides #2)

Chapter 2

T he figure standing before her was like a dark spirit, borne from the depths of the night. His cloak billowed about him, while wild dark hair came down in straggling lines. He was riding a black horse, which was all muscle and sinew, and eyes that burned like fire.

Tara had seen danger before. She had stared at it directly, and so she recognized it whenever it reared its malevolent head. Her heart churned, and she knew she had already spent too long in the presence of this dark force. She tugged at the reins, urging her horse to turn. The only thing to do when faced with something like this was to run. The world was dark and filled with terrors. Tara’s life had been plagued with them.

Her horse whimpered, feeling afraid too. Tara hoped that this strange man, if it was a man at all and not a demon, had other business to attend to. It was a short-lived hope because as Tara turned away, she heard thunderous hooves booming in pursuit of her.

The ground quaked beneath the strides of the powerful horse, and it came streaking up beside her like a shadow. Tara clenched her jaw and now wished she had told someone that she was leaving. Caroline would have ensured that she was given an escort of armed guards, but the matter had been pressing. Shea couldn’t have known that this would happen… could she?

Before she had a chance to analyze the situation any further, the man was already there, filling her vision, blotting out the world. She saw thick strands of hair, a mean scowl, and glowering eyes, as though these were all separate features that coalesced into one being, forming something terrible and intimidating. He roared like a lion as he leaned towards Tara.

His mount followed suit, and interrupted the path of her horse. The black steed hissed and huffed, and its presence alone was enough to steer her horse off its path. It whinnied in fear and then bucked, sending Tara flying. She tensed her thighs and tightened her grip on the reins, but the terror in the horse was such that it wanted to rid itself of its rider and flee.

The world spun as Tara was flung back, landing in a heap on the ground. Her bones clacked together as she landed, and breath was driven from her lungs. She groaned as she watched her horse gallop into the distance. And then the thick legs of the other horse came into view, and they were the only things she could see.

She tilted her head up as the man swung his long leg over the horse. He jumped down, bending his knees slightly as he landed. His boots were thick, and now that she was closer, she could see that his cloak was made of a black bear’s pelt. Anyone who could kill a black bear was fearsome indeed. He bent down and sniffed, and then clutched her pouch. He looked inside, ignoring her protests.

“Ye are a healer.”

It was a statement rather than a question. Tara couldn’t bring herself to answer anyway. Her tongue was stuck in her throat and she was frozen with fear. He pulled out a corded rope and tied it around her wrists, tight enough that it bit into her skin. Then, he placed a gag around her mouth. He then rose her on the horse, and draped across its back unceremoniously. He mounted once again and turned around, riding across unfamiliar territory.

Tara’s heart was filled with dread. She watched the world blur past her, and the wind caught her tears. They drifted away, and she wondered if any of them would find their way home. It wasn’t the first time in her life she had been captured, but this time she did not have Caroline and Nessa beside her to draw strength from.

She was alone, and she was terrified.

Eventually, the horses’ pace slowed. Tara craned her neck and saw a Keep in the distance. It was formidable and imposing, built from a dark rock that made it appear as though everything was shrouded in shadow. The light of the day had long since disappeared. Silver light bathed the land, making the world feel smaller and more distant, as though all the paths home had been severed.

Her captor alighted from the horse and then pulled her off, pushing her towards the Keep. He ripped the gag off her mouth. It had taken some time, but Tara had rediscovered her voice.

“What is all this about?” she rasped, coughing afterwards.

“Laird Abernathy hae asked for yer services,” the man growled as he took her to a room and locked the door.

The name struck terror in her heart. She did not know the man personally, but knew of his name. He was the Laird of a small clan that was vicious. They were wild, untamed, some even said they were descended from wolves. Even Ryan avoided facing them in battle, and the only advantage of their isolationist nature was that they did not usually involve themselves in the affairs of others. But this also gave them an air of mystery, and Tara had no idea what to expect.

It was said that the Abernathy Clan had no use for gold, so what were they going to ask for a ransom, if they even put her up for ransom? She dreaded the thought that this might be her fate, that she was doomed to be a prisoner here… Why? What could Laird Abernathy possibly want with her? Had he sent that man to track her specifically, or was it simply bad fortune?

Tara sank to the floor and drew her knees into her chest. She rocked back and forth, trying not to panic. She closed her eyes and imagined that her sisters were with her.

We should attack him when he comes back. He will nae be expecting it , she imagined Nessa saying.

Wait for an opportunity. Find a horse and ride intae the night. Ride as fast as ye can , was something she assumed Caroline would say.

She tested the door, it was sturdy. The window shutters were locked. She paced back and forth, lamenting her fate. She only had her wits to rely on, and she wasn’t sure they would be enough. Things were better with Nessa and Caroline. They helped each other, but alone she was vulnerable, she was weak.

She had always been the frailest sister and now, without them, she wasn’t sure how she was going to survive. They might have known she had gone missing, but how were they ever going to find her? Even if a rescue party was sent out, they might not be able to track her here. She was alone, and that was perhaps the most terrifying thing of all.

But then the key turned in the lock and the door opened, and she realized she had been very wrong. Filling the door was the man from before, her captor, the cloak making him seem even more impressive, the shadows hiding his face. She cowered in his presence and backed away, wishing to put as much distance between them as possible. Color drained from her cheeks and cold beads of sweat trickled down her spine. She couldn’t help but think that death awaited her.

From the first moment he had seen her, he had been struck by her beauty. He fought it, of course, but it was impossible to deny. Her fair skin was flawless, her blue eyes were like the purest sapphire, and her auburn hair was soft, framing her lovely face to create a perfect picture of beauty. Something had struck his heart at that moment, as though lightning flashed within. She looked so vulnerable out in the wilderness alone. What was she even doing in the middle of nowhere?

It wouldn’t have been long before some undesirable creature abducted her, and he was not about to let that happen. He needed to protect her, and perhaps even make use of her. Surely, it couldn’t have been by chance that they encountered each other? Not when she was exactly what he needed.

Except she was so afraid. The feeling was so palpable that he could practically smell it on her. But she didn’t understand yet that this was a matter of life or death, that she was perhaps the most important in this keep, save one. And for that one, he would do anything, and he would demand everything.

She jut out her chin and looked him directly in the eye. “What dae ye want with me?” she asked.

She was unable to hide the tremors in her voice, but he appreciated that she wasn’t flinging herself to the ground and meekly begging him for mercy. He didn’t need someone who was going to yield to the impossible easily. He needed a fighter, in some ways, because he was tired of fighting himself.

“What is yer name?” he asked instead of answering her question.

“Tara. Tara Gilmour. My brother-in-law is Ryan Knox,” she replied, as if it was meant to threaten him.

There wasn’t anything that could threaten him at the moment. He merely nodded slightly, and then looked towards her pouch. He lifted a finger, pointing at it. As he did so, he revealed a long dagger that was sheathed against his hip. He noticed that Tara’s eyes widened as she spotted it.

“And ye are a healer,” he needed to confirm it again.

“Aye.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Why am I here? Ye said the Laird needs my services. Is he ill? Where is he?”

“What were ye daeing out there all alone?” he asked calmly, again ignoring her questions.

She nipped her lower lip, clearly getting frustrated, but she did not silence herself.

“I was helping someone, or at least I was supposed tae. I got a wee bit lost. Now, if ye brought me here tae see the Laird, then take me tae him. At least let me speak tae him, sae I can learn why I’m here. If there is someone in pain, then I can help.”

“There are lots of people in pain, all kinds of different pain. But ye dinnae hae tae gae anywhere tae meet the Laird. Ye are standing before him.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tara gasped and her eyes widened as she realized her predicament. A myriad of emotions flickered across her face.

“Then I dinnae understand. What dae ye want from me? Why are ye playing these games?”

He took a step into the room. His legs were so long that this propelled him a third of the way into the room. Tara pressed herself more firmly against the rear wall, but she could not retreat in any other direction.

“This is nae game. I dae need yer help.”

“What kind of help dae ye need? Medicine? Ointment? Potions? Are ye even gaeing tae tell me yer name?”

“Gordon,” he replied, before running his tongue along his gums. He wasn’t quite ready to articulate his terms yet. It was too painful to speak about.

“I cannae help ye if ye dinnae tell me anything. Dae ye expect me tae examine ye tae find out what’s wrong?”

“Whatever ye think is best,” he replied, curious to see how she would act.

She didn’t know it, but she was being tested. He needed some resourceful and brilliant, someone unlike anyone else. Was it possible that after all the time he had spent searching, he had finally found her on a stray path?

Tara furrowed her brow and then pressed her lips together. She studied him for a few moments before she pushed herself off the wall and approached him. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if she would try to escape. As she approached him, he noticed the gentle curve of her nose and the way her lips formed a pretty bow. She was nervous, but she did her best to not allow it to show.

“If this is what gets me out of here, then sae be it,” she muttered under her breath.

She placed her hands on his cloak and pushed it off his shoulders. It flowed down his body and formed a puddle at his feet. She pressed her index and middle finger at various points along his torso, beginning just beneath his shoulders, moving down the middle of his body, settling around his navel.

He closed his eyes when she touched him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be touched by another. He bristled with unfamiliar tension and tried to push it away from his mind. The fact that she was beautiful and alluring and that her touch stirred tenderness within him was all incidental. That wasn’t why he had taken her. It wasn’t why she was in his Keep. It wasn’t why he needed her.

She moved around to his back. Her fingers ran down his spine and pressed into the crook of his neck. Then she fell to her knees, but not in supplication. She again touched the insides and outsides of his thighs, then his calves. Her fingers caressed his dagger. For a moment, he thought she might try to unsheathe it and attack him, but she left it where it was. Eventually, Tara returned to her full height and wore a confused look.

“There’s naething wrong with ye,” she said indignantly, frowning deeply and stepping back. She wrung her hands together as though they had just touched something toxic. “What is this? Is this some sick game?”

“I already told ye that this is nae game.”

“Then why all this? Either ye need me or ye dinnae,” she snapped, her initial fear giving way to anger and frustration.

He arched an eyebrow, impressed with her manner. So many other people had wilted in front of him, but if they were afraid of him, a mere mortal, then there were other things they would fear as well, and he could not abide this. Not with what was needed.

“It was a test. I needed tae see if ye possessed courage. I need someone strong. I did enjoy the attention, though,” he teased.

There was a moment where he noticed a blush appearing on her cheeks, but this was only fleeting. It might well have been an illusion.

“For what?” she shot back. “Or am I supposed tae guess at that as well?”

Gordon looked her up and down, sizing her up. By stature, she was not all that impressive, but her personality shone through, making her seem taller than she actually was. The sharpness of her tongue may have gotten her into trouble elsewhere, but he saw it as a blessing. The spirit of the Highlands was well and truly alive in her, and this was what he needed if he were to prevent tragedy from shrouding the clan.

“Come with me and find out,” he turned as he bent low and picked up his cloak.

In one flowing motion, he swept it across his shoulders and fastened it once again, turning to exit through the door. He didn’t bother to check if Tara was following because he knew that she would. Her footsteps were so light they were barely audible, but she had already displayed curiosity as well as a willingness to do whatever was needed in order to treat a patient.

When she thought that he was hurt she came close to him, touched him even though it meant making herself vulnerable. He could have stabbed her or choked her or throttled her, and yet she had not cowered when faced with her duty. This was admirable, and although she did not know it yet, he already had deep respect for her.

He walked through the Keep, bending his head low as they passed through the arches that supported the building. Torches flickered, the flames alive, almost mocking him. Everything mocked him recently, or at least it certainly felt like it. Occasionally, he wondered if there had been a curse placed upon his name because he had lost so much already, and there was only one more thing left to lose—one more thing that mattered more than life itself. Unbeknownst to her, Tara might well prove to be his salvation, and his shield against more tragedy.

When he reached his destination, he paused, taking a breath to compose himself. Turbulent emotions swirled within him, as violent as the bleakest storm. He held the handle and pushed it open, and once again he was faced with the heartbreaking sight within. Every time he came into this room, the condition of his son, Keith, seemed to be worse.

It was as though he were fading away with every passing hour, becoming a diminished version of himself. Gordon feared that eventually there would be nothing left apart from empty sheets and a shadow of warmth.

A shard of sorrow pierced his heart at the sight of the small boy in the huge bed, his head tilted to the side, his forehead glistening with sweat and his cheeks rosy with fever. Other than his cheeks, his skin was deathly pale, almost gray. For all of his strength and his prowess in battle, this was an enemy that Gordon could not fight. This virus was not one that could be felled by a sword, and so he was utterly powerless. He stepped aside and turned to Tara.

“This is what I need yer help with. This is why I brought ye here. I cannae save him. I cannae save my son.”

His voice cracked with emotion on these words, and he felt as though something had broken deep inside him, something that was beyond repair.