Page 58 of An Allusive Love
“Aye, lass.” His breath was hot and rancid against her cheek. Ross Craigg pressed her back against his chest, his arm like a vise around her waist. “We’ll mount my horse together, ride to yer cottage, and ye’ll doctor my gash. Then I’ll be on my way.”
He must be the reason Brodie had been called away. Had Brodie inflicted the wound or someone else? Had Craigg hurt anyone before he’d been attacked?
She shook her head and struggled against his hold. She doubled over, trying to kick at him, but her soft leather shoes made no impact except for a grunt of pain.
“I have a loaded pistol. If ye dinna come quietly, whoever ye alert will find a bullet in their brain.” His lips moved against her skin; his hand squeezed her face. She gagged against the pervading odor. “Tell me ye understand.”
She nodded, panic freezing her limbs.Stay calm. Think!ordered her brain.
“Put yer hands on the saddle and dinna move,” he ordered.
Kristine’s forehead rested against the saddle. The horse’s soft breathing sent white puffs into the chilly evening air. Craigg’s free hand fumbled with the ribbon at her waist and sheer terror sucked the breath from her lungs. She inhaled deeply, relieved when he wrapped it around her wrists. “If ye try to run while I bind ye, I’ll shoot ye in the back. There’ll be plenty of time to reload before yer hero finds ye.”
She nodded and closed her eyes while he knotted the ribbon, winced at the satin digging into her tender skin. The steel barrel poked her ribs, and she scrambled into the saddle. Looking down, she saw the blood seeping through his coat.Sweet Mary!she thought as Craigg heaved himself behind her and kicked the horse into a gallop.
Kirstine took a deep breath to clear her mind. She would tend his wound, and he would leave. Ross Craigg would become a distant memory for all of them. She prayed for strength and blinked back tears. This man fed on weakness and fear. Kirstine refused to give him that power over her.
When they reached the cottage, Charlie’s dark form ambled from the blackhouse. He stopped several yards from the horse and gave a soft warning growl. “Stay!” she ordered the hound, and he lay down with a soft whine. Craigg would have no compunction about shooting her dog. Sliding to the ground, Kirstine ran to Charlie and gave him a reassuring rub.
“If the beast even snarls, I’ll shoot it.”
“He’s well trained and will do as I say. Charlie is also an excellent lookout and will let us ken if anyone approaches.” She thought of Brodie and her parents. They would be frantic by now. “Let’s get ye inside, so I can take a look at the damage.”
“I’ll stay right here where I can see who comes for me.” He sat down heavily and leaned against the cottage, next to the door. Waving his gun with a grunt, he motioned her inside.
Kirstine rummaged in the pantry for the powder of cleaver, whisky, honey, then to the sitting room for needle, thread, rags, and winding cloth. When she returned, his eyes were closed. Could she run?
“Dinna consider escape until ye’ve doctored me,” he mumbled.
With a sigh, she knelt beside him and concentrated on maintaining a steady hand. He had removed his coat and pulled up his shirt to reveal the deep laceration in his side. “I need to get some water from the well to clean this.”
Before she could rise, he had her wrist in an iron grip. “Use the whisky.”
“Fine, but it will hurt,” she warned.
“It already hurts.”
Kirstine poured the alcohol over the wound, and he let out a blood-curling screech, then whimpered softly while she cleaned it with a cloth. The man beat defenseless women but whined like a baby when pain was inflicted on him. Her lip curled in disgust.
“I could give ye some laudanum to ease the discomfort,” she offered.
“Do ye think I’m addlepated? Just finish.”
She sprinkled the powder over the wound and waited until the bleeding stopped. Threading the needle, Kirstine poked it into his skin and cringed at the pathetic keening. The seven-year-old boy with the broken arm last summer had been braver. Craigg’s wails provoked the dog into low rumbles, and she had to hush Charlie several times before she finished. Her hands no longer trembled, her mind focused on finishing the task and sending the scoundrel on his way.
“How did this happen?” Perhaps she could distract him with conversation and find out if everyone was fine.
“I took retribution, or tried to.” He grunted as she pulled him forward and wrapped the bandage around his back. “Had the young widow and lured the English grandson into the wood. If I’d shot him right away, my hired help wouldna be dead.”
“Gideon killed a mon?” She remembered meeting him that afternoon. A handsome, polite man. Her stomach quaked. “And then ye shot him?”
“That feckin’ Lachlan snuck up and ran me through. Lost a good dagger in his leg first, though.”
“All of this because yer daughter married my cousin?”
He sneered. “The MacNaughton will understand I’m my own mon, no’ bowing to anyone’s orders. He’s lorded over my family and pushed me around since my da died. Nessie was too much.”
Kirstine pushed away and stood. Relief washed over her. No one had been hurt, save for a ruffian. Craigg would flee the Highlands, and she would find Brodie.
