The Outcast (Scottish Lasses Book 0) by Glynnis Campbell

Author:Glynnis Campbell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9781938114236
Publisher: Glynnis Campbell
Published: 2015-02-03T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Alisoune hadn't had so much fun in years. Not only was she enjoying the thrill of competition, but the challenge of calculating the most effective angle of trajectory kept her brain entertained as well. So far, she'd landed her strikes with impressive accuracy.

She hurled another snowball at him, which hit him smack in the middle of the chest. But this time the blow made him stagger backwards, and his crutch slipped out from under him. As she watched in growing dismay, his arms cartwheeled, and he lost his balance. To her horror, he fell back, hard, into the snowbank, where he lay...silent.

Her jaw fell open. “Lachlan?”

He failed to respond. She dropped the second snowball from limp fingers.

“Lachlan?”

There was no answer. She stared at him in dread, gathering her skirts in clenched fists.

“Lachlan!”

She stumbled toward him, whimpering in fear under her breath. What had she done? Was he hurt? Was he dead? What ever had made her think 'twas a good idea to pummel a crippled man with snowballs?

He still hadn't stirred when she reached him. He lay sprawled and motionless on the snow, like a beautiful dark angel fallen to earth.

“Oh, Lachlan,” she breathed in fright, clapping her hand over her mouth.

But she couldn't let panic distract her from reason. Steeling her nerves, she rushed forward and knelt by his side, using her fingers to feel for the pulse in his neck.

To her great relief, his heart was still beating. But he wasn't awake. She furrowed her brow in worry. She'd heard that after a blow to the head, sometimes people could dwell in a state of deep sleep for days. They eventually wasted away, never regaining consciousness.

“Oh, Lachlan,” she said in despair, shaking him gently. “I only meant to cheer ye. I didn't mean to hurt ye.”

She bit her lip. If he didn't waken straightaway, she'd have to get him inside so he wouldn't freeze. But how? He must outweigh her by half.

She glanced back over her shoulder at Campbell. Perhaps she could unload the wood and use the sled to transport him.

While she was considering the best course of action, and before she could move a muscle, Lachlan rose up, grabbed her, and rolled her onto her back in the snowbank.

She gasped in surprise and relief. “Ye're awake!” But a closer look into his twinkling eyes told her the truth. “Ptolemy's ballocks! Ye played me false.”

Pinning her by the shoulders, he grinned down at her like a wildcat with a mouse between its paws.

“Ach!” she spat. “Let me up!” The snow was cold on her backside.

“Only if ye'll cede the battle.”

She was vexed with him. After all, he'd scared the hell out of her, and she'd been worried. But when she beheld the merry sparkle in his silver eyes and the flash of his snow-white smile, she couldn't stay angry.

She shivered. “'Tis cold, Lachlan! Let me up!”

“Oh, I know 'tis cold. I was lyin' there for quite a while myself.”

“Ye brute!” she cried, grinning in spite of herself.

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