The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair

Chapter Eleven

Ethan found the cave they’d used before on the second night, pleased his memory hadn’t failed him. Logan Ramsay did know the Highlands well, and he was grateful for it. He sat down on a log and pulled out the loaf of bread he’d wrapped into four pieces to keep fresh during the journey. He also had some dried beef the cook had offered him before he left.

Jennet had a tough road ahead of her. How he wished he’d been able to be there for her. He wondered if he would ever be free of his struggles with being close to people.

Ever since…

He stopped himself. Marcas and Shaw had always warned him to not think on it. They said if he stopped those thoughts from coming in, the memories would vanish, but that never happened. They were always there, locked in the recesses of his memory and so willing to be brought out anytime his comfort was threatened.

He often wondered if the perpetrators ever thought of what they did to him so many years ago, if they had any idea how much they’d affected him.

Ethan paced in his cave as something niggled at him. Leaving Jennet. The guilt he experienced surprised him, and he would progress slowly.

For some reason, he felt the need to take it slow.

After hunting and catching a rabbit to roast, he sat down to relax and think. Of course, one thing bothered him, but he decided to not think on the old memories. Instead, he couldn’t help but wonder why he couldn’t find that other arrow he’d lost. His archery had certainly improved, so he pulled out the arrows in his quiver and counted them again. Still one missing.

He jumped as a voice called out to him.

“What the hell are you doing with Ramsay arrows this far north?” A man stood there holding the arrow he’d lost, his dark hair blowing in the wind. What drew Ethan’s eyes immediately, however, was the plaid he wore.

A Grant plaid.

“I came from Ramsay land and Gwyneth gave them to me,” Ethan explained. “Who are you?” He stood, looking eye-to-eye with the man.

“Padraig Grant. Who the hell are you?”

“Ethan Matheson.” He stood and set his hands on his hips, waiting to see what the Grant warrior would do. “You fight for the Grants? I’ve seen many of their warriors but not you.”

“If you’ve seen many of our warriors, can’t be you’ve seen me.” He broke into a wide smile. “You’d remember me if you saw me.” He laughed heartily.

“Why are you laughing? I haven’t said anything to make you laugh.” He never trusted people who laughed all the time. He grabbed his dagger and held it out to protect himself, just in case.

“Put that away, I’m not here to harm you. And I laugh all the time. But I don’t often see men traveling alone in the Highlands. Where are you coming from?” Padraig sat down on the log, then pulled out an oatcake, which he offered to share. Ethan lowered his dagger and relaxed a bit as the warrior began preparing his food. Then Padraig lifted a hand holding the arrow toward Ethan.

“I’m headed home from Ramsay land. I escorted Jennet home, so now I’m headed back to Black Isle.” He accepted the arrow and placed it into his quiver. “My thanks for returning this.”

“So your brother married Brigid? I’m sorry I missed the wedding. I would have enjoyed watching Logan lose his wee lassie.” He guffawed, rubbing the beard on his chin. “You should have seen it when his wife tied him down so Sorcha could have her wedding night.”

“His own wife tied him down? How did she do it?” Ethan couldn’t imagine Gwyneth tying Logan down.

“She had help from a few Grants. The strongest ones. If I recall, it was Connor, Magnus, Jake, maybe a few others. She tied him while they held him down; otherwise, poor Cailean would have had his wife’s father in their bedchamber. Aye, verra sorry I missed Brigid’s wedding.”

“Why did you miss it?” Ethan asked as he took a seat on a rock opposite Padraig.

The man sighed deeply. “I was in Edinburgh. I like to travel, and I was looking for Maggie and Will, but they attended the wedding.”

“So you travel alone too?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I do, but everyone tells me I’m a fool. It suits me. I think of myself like Logan Ramsay. Always wandering.”

“Logan is married and his wife travels with him.”

“True,” Padraig said, chewing slowly. “A man of reason. I’ll warn you that you’ll be unable to understand my motivations. I’m different.”

“As am I,” Ethan said, wondering what made this man different. Perhaps he’d find out if he continued to question him.

“But you’re correct about Uncle Logan and Aunt Gwyneth. Guess I need a lass who likes to travel.”

“I know one—my sister, Gisela.” Gisela had often complained about never being off Black Isle. She said she always wished to travel to Edinburgh, but that wish had been stifled ever since the curse came to their clan.

“Nay, everyone tries to pass their sister off on me. I travel alone. Forget about Logan and Gwyneth. There’s only one Gwyneth in the Highlands. You look upset about something. ’Tis the other reason I decided to stop and chat with you.”

Ethan was surprised at the man’s intuition. “I’m wondering if I should have left Ramsay land. I have this gut feeling I should have waited until Jennet was ready to return to Black Isle.”

“Will she return? Have you declared her yours?”

Ethan scowled. “Nay. Mayhap someday. I’m interested, but I don’t have the chance to pursue her. Her sire is gravely ill. I think she’ll be there a long time, so I chose to leave. Mayhap I made a mistake.”

“Quade Ramsay is gravely ill? I may need to return to Grant land and tell my sire and uncles that. He’s married to their sister.”

“Which Grant is your sire?”

“Robbie. Robbie and Caralyn are my parents. Brenna is Robbie’s older sister.”

They both sat quiet for a moment, but then Padraig jumped up from his seat. “My thanks for the update. I’m returning to Grant land to let my sire know about Quade. Godspeed with you.”

Ethan stood, wondering what he should say, but then Padraig took care of everything.

He mounted his horse, then turned back toward Ethan. “I would follow your instincts, Ethan Matheson. They’ve never let me down yet. If you think you need to go back, then do it. You’ll have no regrets if you do. If you don’t, you could have huge regrets.”

Once he left, Ethan made up his mind.

He’d spend another day in this cave before he decided what to do next.

He couldn’t explain it, but deep down something told him Jennet needed him.

***

Jennet ignored everyone in the hall as she ran past, yelling, “Nay, Papa, nay!”

Everyone moved quickly out of her way, thinking the worst from her screams. There were many shouts coming from her father’s bedchamber, but she chose to cover her ears to them because she couldn’t handle anything more.

Her own father had tried to hit her—hard. He’d never struck her or any of her siblings before.

Ignoring everyone, she raced up to her chamber, packed her bags up again, then hurried down the staircase. She ran out the door and straight across the courtyard into the stables. She barked at the gaping stable lad, “Saddle a horse for me. I just need to go on a long ride. Tell my brother I’ll return quickly.” Glancing at the basket stocked full of bread along with a few carrots, she grabbed a few and tossed them in her sack, knowing she wasn’t returning.

Hellfire, but she hated lying.

She would not return—perhaps ever. If not for Torrian, her father would have struck her hard across her face. Bruised her. Knocked her to the ground. Once her horse was saddled, she nearly sobbed in front of the stable lad, but she held it in.

“Miss, where are you headed?”

“Toward the loch. I’ll return shortly. I have to be alone for a bit.” Another lie. But since she’d made it this far without being stopped, she headed toward the loch until she could no longer be seen, then sent her horse galloping along the path in the forest heading away from Ramsay land.

She was leaving and never coming back. Her father hated her. The look in his eyes, the scream that came from her mother and Bethia, everything about that moment would be etched in her mind forever. After she’d stepped back, her father had actually thrown himself off the bed, everyone in the chamber scrambling to get him back in.

But he continued to curse and fight.

All because of her.

Once onto the main path, she picked the only destination she could think of in the moment. She’d head back to Black Isle, hoping to catch up with Ethan. He couldn’t be that far ahead of her. Leaving on her own was foolish, but she wasn’t going to change her mind and return. She was going to find Ethan and go with him. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that Ethan would protect her with his life.

She allowed her horse to fly over the path, determined to get as far away as possible before the Ramsay guards were sent out after her. Her tears streamed down her cheeks and fell behind her, her sobs loud and guttural.

After about twenty minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, she knew she had to think about what she was doing. Going alone was dangerous, so she calmed her breathing. The resounding hiccups were not going to help keep her hidden. After two more hours of galloping, she tried to remember a spot where they’d stopped off the regular path with the Matheson brothers when they’d stolen the three lasses from their keep. Ethan had been here and would remember it. She had to find him, because going alone was a foolish thing to do. Anything could happen to her. Her father would tell her she was being rash and impulsive, and she knew he would be correct.

So much of the area looked familiar that she was convinced it was the same spot. She’d have to find the path first, and then, to her best recollection, she would follow it for about half the hour before finding the clearing and a cave. There was a lovely patch of purple heather not far from the area that would help her locate it.

Finding the familiar path, she was not far from a burn, so she led her horse toward refreshment while she tossed water on her face; anything to wipe away the stain of her tears.

Jennet rarely lost control like that. Standing next to her horse, her hand lightly rubbing the beast’s flank, she closed her eyes and willed her self-control back, knowing she had to be thinking if she was going to find Ethan. The sound of footsteps in the brush behind her caught her attention, so she spun around, hoping to see Ethan—but to her dismay, he wasn’t there.

Four dirty, grubby faces stared at her, probably a group of reivers, the type her father had warned her about for years.

“Looky what we have here, lads. Is she not a pretty one?” The one who spoke, a red-haired man, spit off to the side through a missing front tooth. The other three had various shades of brown hair, and she began to categorize them automatically.

So besides red, there was a bald man, a skinny one, and one who was just plain ugly. Dubbing them Red, Baldy, Slim, and Ugly, she paid close attention to their weapons and how quickly they’d be able to get them.

Her gaze narrowed as she took in everything she could about the men. Two carried poor excuses for swords, the other two, daggers. There was one horse with a bow and a bundle of arrows visible.

“Leave me be,” she said.

“I don’t think so. You’ll be a nice treat for us this eve.” Baldy grinned, his hand reaching for the spot between his legs and rubbing it furiously.

“Good fortune is upon us,” Slim said.

Ugly reached for her but Red slapped his hand. “Not yet. We need to find a place where her screams won’t be heard.”

Ugly said, “Just a kiss. Or let me touch her breast, then I can wait. Please?”

Jennet decided to take advantage of their arguing and spun on her heel to run in the opposite direction, over behind the burn. She couldn’t outrun them, but she could possibly hide somewhere they couldn’t see her.

She flew through the trees, branches striking her face, her arms coming up to protect her eyes from the sharp wood. Her retreat only caused the bastards to see it as a joyful event, their laughter and glee following her. Unfortunately, one was smart enough to jump on his horse and follow her, but she knew she had the advantage in the forest. How she wished she could run like her cousin Molly.

She ran until she thought her lungs would explode, then the worst finally happened. A clearing appeared and she was in it before she could stop herself, the horse bursting out in front of her. Before she knew it, Red was alongside her, grabbing her by her hair and lifting her off the ground. He tossed her across his horse.

The men all cheered with glee.

Jennet bit him just above his knee, sinking her teeth in as hard as she could. She found herself airborne, then landing with a loud thud, the wind knocked out of her.

She was going to die for sure.