Highland Valentine by C.A. Szarek

Author:C.A. Szarek [Szarek, C.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Valentine's Day, lovers, Scotland, Texas, Highlands
Publisher: Paper Dragon Publishing
Published: 2016-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Dubh tossed his head and hoofed the ground, then shifted his weight and nickered.

He barely paid his dear steed any notice even as he swayed with the horse’s movements. The reins lay loose in one palm, and even if his stallion was protesting, he wouldn’t take off without command.

Hugh couldn’t tear his eyes off the MacLeod stronghold from his place high up on the ridge. They’d been standing there for hours that felt like days.

Mab had told him to go get his wife, and he wanted to. Needed to. But after riding out, he’d wandered Skye more than coming directly to the MacLeods.

The wind was bitter, and it was snowing big fat lazy flakes. He could hear his aunt’s voice in his head, chiding him that he’d catch his death, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His body was mostly numb again, like it’d been since his dip in the sea, and since she’d left him.

He must’ve lost his bollocks somewhere along the journey, because he couldn’t go forward toward Dunvegan, and he wouldn’t go home. Not without her, anyway.

Juliette.

His wife was safe inside those walls. Residing with a clan that wasn’t his.

Safe from me?

Hugh swallowed and called himself every name he could think of—in Gaelic and English. Even some curses common in the far future Juliette had taught him, but never around Mab. His aunt didn’t like that kind of talk, especially from the Lady of Armadale.

If he closed his eyes, Hugh could see his wife’s face, and recall when she’d quoted her favorites, grinning like they had a secret. His chest ached, and every breath was like a dagger, as if his stallion was seated upon his torso pushing the blade deeper.

Dubh backed up and stepped forward.

Hugh wobbled, then tightened his grip on the reins. He sat taller, re-centering himself. “What’s botherin’ ye, laddie?” He paused and tilted his head to one side when his mount whinnied and pranced.

Thundering hooves echoed, but it wasn’t more than one horse, unless his ears deceived him. Their position obscured the gates of his rival’s vast wall, but obviously a rider had just left from where he couldn’t see. They should be visible in moments, and Dubh had heard them first.

The horse was white—and he’d seen it before.

His black stallion needed little encouragement to head back to the road they were only ten or so feet above; he practically cantered down the ridge to level ground. Hugh reined Dubh in more than his horse liked, but he’d not wanted them to be run over.

The man hollered when he’d spotted them, and slowed in plenty of time to avoid a collision.

Surprise washed over Hugh when the rider straightened and lowered the hood of his gray mantel.

“Hugh MacDonald!”

Only the smile on Duncan MacLeod’s beardless face stalled his demand for the respect—and honorific—he’d left off Hugh’s name. The man shouldn’t have greeted him so casually, even if they were brothers-by-marriage.

He scowled. “MacLeod.”

Amusement darted across his broad face and he kneed his steed closer to Dubh.

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