Page 20 of The Wrong Highlander (Highland Brides 7)

“Nay, a sidesaddle,” Evina said finally on a sigh, lowering her foot from the stirrup. There was no way she could ride astride without braies on.

“A sidesaddle?” the stable master echoed with bewilderment. “I do no’ think we have one.”

“Surely me mother rode sidesaddle when she was alive?” she asked with a frown.

“Oh, aye!” The man brightened. “I’ll go fetch it.”

“I gather ye usually ride astride,” the Buchanan commented as the stable master rushed off.

Evina turned to peer at him, unsurprised to see that he was already mounted. He would have done so when she moved to mount her mare. “Aye.”

“Why sidesaddle today, then?” he asked with curiosity.

“Because Father insisted,” she admitted.

“Why?” he asked with surprise.

Evina shook her head, and then asked, “Do ye think ’tis possible he suffered some damage to his head from the fevers? Gavin said ye did say he could did the fever get too high.”

The Buchanan’s eyebrows rose at the question, but he considered it briefly, and then nodded. “’Tis possible, but I have no’ seen any sign o’ it.”

“Ye do no’ ken him though, and might no’ notice right away,” she pointed out.

“True,” he agreed with a faint smile.

“Here we are. ’Tis a little dusty, but—Oh, hell!”

Evina glanced to the side just in time to see the stirrup strap the stable master had in one hand snap. The man managed to hold on to the saddle for a moment with his other hand, but then it slid to the ground.

“It has no’ been used in years. I guess the leather is in bad shape,” the stable master muttered, bending to pick up the damaged saddle.

“Ne’er mind. Lady Evina can ride with me,” the Buchanan announced.

“Oh, nay, I—” Evina’s protest died on a gasp as his arm suddenly snaked around her waist from behind and she was lifted up onto the saddle before him.

“Hold on,” the Buchanan ordered, and immediately turned his mount and urged it toward the bridge out of Maclean . . . at speed. So far, this trip wasn’t going at all to plan, Evina thought with dismay as they charged out of the bailey.

Chapter 5

“That should be good enough, and this seems a nice spot. Why do we no’ stop and eat now?”

Evina straightened slowly from the horehound she’d been gathering. She rubbed her lower back as she glanced from the bulging saddlebag the Buchanan was carrying to the clearing they were standing on the edge of.

“Aye,” she said on a weary sigh, more than ready to rest if not eat. After the exciting start of his dragging her up on his horse and charging out of the bailey, their trip had calmed down considerably. The minute they were away from the keep, he’d slowed his horse and asked where he should go. He’d followed her directions, and before long they’d both been off the horse, gathering the weeds and wild herbs he needed for healing.

Some of the plants they’d gathered were ones they had in the garden at Maclean. Evina had told him as much and offered for him to take what he liked from there, but he’d said, “Why pilfer the gardens when they are growing wild out here? The ones in the garden might be needed later,” he’d pointed out, “and the ones in the wild would just wither away unused.”

Evina had shrugged and gathered what he wanted. Now his saddlebag was full to bursting again and she was exhausted. It felt like they’d been walking the woods and fields for a full day gathering herbs and weeds, although they had probably only been at it for a little over two hours.

“Tired?” the Buchanan asked sympathetically as he slung his saddlebag over his horse’s back.

“Aye,” Evina said simply as he gathered his horse’s reins and moved toward her. She could play at swords for hours in the practice field with the men, but harvesting plants was backbreaking work her body was unused to, using different muscles than fighting did. Not having had the nooning meal yet probably didn’t help either, she supposed.

“The middle o’ the clearing looks a likely spot for our meal,” he suggested after pausing beside her to glance around.

Evina nodded silently, uncaring where they sat so long as they sat.

“Here.” The word was her only warning, and not really much of one, Evina decided as he suddenly clasped her by the waist and tossed her up onto his horse. Grabbing the pommel to keep from sliding off, she peered at him wide-eyed, and he grinned. “Ye’re done in. Just rest on me mount and I’ll walk ye out to the middle o’ the clearing.”

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