Page 2 of A Merry MacNaughton
Two sets of chattering teeth now filled the silence. Calum rolled onto his back, breathing heavy. “I’m no’ afraid to tell ye, I was a wee bit worried neither of us would make it home this day.” He grinned as Angus licked his face and whined. Burying his fingers in the dog’s wiry black and gray coat, he pulled himself to a sitting position. “I dinna think my dog is verra happy either.”
Tiny icicles pelted his face as he sat up and realized he was talking to his dog and an unconscious man. A stream of curses sounded from Calum as he rose and hoisted the still form over his shoulder. Frigid water slid down his back and side as Malachi’s sopping clothes pressed against his body. After a bit of maneuvering, the body sagged over the saddle, feet dangling on one side, arms on the other. He pulled the second blanket from his own horse with an apologetic pat.
“Sorry, old boy, but he needs it more,” he told the horse.
“It’s no’ the most comfortable, my new friend, but it will get ye home.” Friend. His da will have a fit not only for saving a Craigg but for bringing one home. “And for the love of Mary, ye better no’ die after all the trouble ye’ve put us through.” Angus howled his agreement, the hound’s golden eyes still watching the stranger warily.
Calum took upthe reins from the spare horse, climbed back on his gelding, and clicked to both horses and dog. He secured the heavy wool tightly around his neck, pulled his cap down against the blustery wind, and cursed the early spring storm. With a nudge to his mount’s flank, they carefully picked their way back up the hill.
“It’s colder than a Sassenach’s heart on eviction day at the orphanage.” Black Angus barked in response as he padded behind in the horse’s tracks.
The snow was accumulating quickly, but they had less than an hour before the round tower of MacNaughton Castle greeted their eyes. Visions of a large hearth, warm spiced wine, and a willing lass filled his head. He should have stopped at the last inn and waited out the brewing storm. The stew was good, and the barmaid always ready for a romp.
When he’d left the village that morning, the sun had glinted off the snow-covered rooftops with the promise of a bright day. But the weather was her own mistress and as fickle as a honey bee in a field of wildflowers. He grinned. A bit of water never stopped a Highlander, whether it be frozen or falling from the sky.
*
By the timethe bedraggled group reached MacNaughton Castle, Calum’s stomach rumbled and his fingers ached from the cold. He’d tucked his face inside the wet plaid, creating a warm but moist protection for most of his body. The steam beneath kept him warm as the outer wool turned into a crackling, icy shell.
The rescued Highlander hadn’t stirred, but a groan had occasionally slipped past his blue lips. Considering Da’s hatred of the Craigg Clan, and the feud that had simmered for generations, he decided not to announce his guest to the family. Entering the stable yard, he called for the head groom.
“Rory, help me get this man to the kitchen. He fell through the ice and isna doing so well.” Dismounting, he handed his reins off to one of the lads who came running. “Rub them both down good, boy. It’s been a long journey.”
“He’s a Craigg,” Rory whispered loudly, his face turning the same dull red as his hair. He scooped up one arm under his shoulder, and they half-carried, half-dragged the man up the hill, kicking up a cloud of white in their wake.
“I ken that, but he’ll be dead if we dinna get him before a fire.” Calum pushed the door handle down with an elbow and kicked the thick oak with his leather boot. “Keep this between us for now. If we say anything, the poor man stands a better chance in the frozen loch. If he dies, there’s no need to tell Da.”
“I wouldna want to be the one to tell him,” Rory agreed, his brown eyes bright with mischief. “My memory isna what it used to be.”
“Thank ye for yer help. And remember, no’ a word.” They dropped the limp form onto a bench next to the hearth and Rory returned to the stable. Calum’s mouth watered when he took in the aroma of fresh bread. Several skewered birds roasted over a low fire, their juices sizzling as they dripped onto the flames. A young boy sat next to the hearth and turned the spit.
“Go find Enid, lad, and be quick about it.”
The boy jumped up, glanced at the handle of the spit and back at his master uncertainly.
“It’ll be fine, I willna let it burn. Now go!” He smiled as the child scampered off, making a wide berth around the deerhound.
Looking about the kitchen, he spied the oblong loaves on the long trestle table. Yanking off the cloth covering them, he grabbed one, bit into the end, and tore off a chunk. He closed his eyes as he chewed and gave a tired sigh. A familiar reprimand interrupted his chewing.
“I’ll have ye hung by yer toes and whipped soundly, Calum MacNaughton. Leave my bread alone. It’s for the evening meal.” Enid the cook bustled in, her plump form filling the space between Calum and the crackling fire. “And if ye think those big blue eyes will change my mind—”
She gaped at the sleeping man crumpled on the bench next to the hearth. Deep brown curls plastered against his skin made his pallor almost alabaster.
“Sweet Jesus, what have ye dragged home now? Is he dead?”
“Now why would I bring home a corpse, my lovely Enid?” He pinched her rosy cheek and chuckled as she slapped his hand.
“I’m no’ one of yer giggling lasses who melts under yer poor excuse for charm. No matter how tall, dark, and handsome ye may be,” she scolded, but her eyes did not move from the body slumped in her kitchen.
“I thought ye were husband hunting. He’ll be an easy one to catch.”
He ducked as Enid grabbed the loaf of bread from his hand, reached up on her tiptoes, and smacked him on top of the head. A chunk of the bread fell to the floor, and Angus snatched it up, his wiry gray tail wagging as he sniffed the stone floor for more.
“I’m as lithe on my feet as I was at twenty. Now ye better start explaining before I call the MacNaughton in here.” She handed him back the bread and put her fists on her ample hips, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together.
Calum’s smirk disappeared. “I’m only teasing, and I wouldna be telling anyone about our visitor. He’s a Craigg.”
She gasped. “Why in heaven would ye bring one of those devils here?”
