Page 79 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
She was spared the embarrassment of being caught because he was looking away from her, off into the distance.
She shook her head. “Nay.”
The Laird’s eyes were scanning the whole area around them, looking for the source of whatever sound he’d heard.
“There it is again!” he cried. “Come on!”
He jerked his horse over to the side and raced off the main road and into the forest that surrounded them.
“Magnus!” Ciara called, fumbling to get her horse turn around and follow him. She had heard nothing, but she wasn’t about to say that, lest he figure out why she was so oblivious to the world around them.
She caught up to the Laird quickly, who had found himself on the banks of a small loch. The tranquil water shone in the midday sun. On a warmer day, it would be perfect for a dip. The blue water seemed to wink back at them in the sunlight.
But as Ciara tightened the shawl around her shoulders and the wind picked up, the idea of getting anywhere near that water sent a shudder through her.
“Magnus, what are we doin’?” she called out to him.
“Hush,” he whispered back over his shoulder.
When she caught his eye, she gave him an exasperated look. He looked sheepish but just pressed one finger to his lips.
This time, she heard it. A squawking sound came from somewhere on the banks of the loch.
“Oh,” she said quietly, her wide eyes meeting Magnus’s again.
He just nodded and dismounted his horse quickly, and then moved in the direction of the sound. Following his lead, she got off her horse and brought their mounts to the loch’s edge to water them.
The Laird beckoned her over to where he stood and just nodded down to the ground. There, lying on the bank of the loch, was a small duck. Besides its squawking, though, it was barely moving.
As she watched, the bird twitched and squawked again—a painful sound.
“I think he’s hurt!” Ciara cried out, bending down to get a closer look at the animal.
“Aye, I ken, that’s why I followed the sound,” Magnus told her, crouching down beside her.
Turning her face towards him, she asked, “How could ye tell?”
“That’s nae the usual sound they make,” he replied simply, easily.
“Now ye ken bird sounds?” Ciara teased with an eye roll.
He shot her an unimpressed look. “We hunt a lot of fowl, lass. I’ve heard plenty of healthy sounds from ducks as well as injured ones.”
“Oh…”
Magnus shook his head with a little laugh before focusing back on the injured animal. His face was scrunched up in concern.
“I think it’s his wing,” he said softly, trying not to frighten the animal any further.
Now that they were close to it, the bird was squawking regularly and trying to move away from them. With its injured wing, though, it wasn’t going anywhere.
“What do we do? We have to help him,” Ciara urged.
The Laird was scanning the area around them but didn’t respond.
“Magnus,” she tried again, “we cannae leave him here like this.”
“Aye, I ken, lass. I agree with ye. I’m just tryin’ to figure out how to help.”
