Page 27 of Glasgow Rogue

At the sound of horses’ hooves pounding in the narrow alley, the men looked up momentarily, giving Niall the seconds he needed to land a fist in one man’s face and cause him to fall back on the other.

They both staggered. Annie looked like a wild barbarian bearing down on them and Niall hoped she had control of the horses.

He stepped to one side and then grabbed the saddle, feeling a searing, sharp pain to his thigh as he vaulted onto his horse.

More men came running around the corner of the boardinghouse. Although his sword hung from his saddle, he didn’t draw it, since fighting in such close quarters would be useless. They needed to get away.

The alley finally opened onto a street. Men were already pouring into the street, no doubt alerted by the noise of the horses. Annie looked back, inadvertently pulling her reins, and her mare slowed.

“Go!” Niall yelled. If the men closed in on them, Annie would be pulled down.

That she was a woman wouldn’t matter in their current crazed state.

He’d seen mob mentality before. It was akin to the feeding frenzy of sharks when the fishermen threw chum back into the water.

“Go!” he shouted again as a rock came flying way too close to their heads. “Go!”

Annie’s eyes widened as she evidently understood the danger.

She kicked her horse’s flanks, leaning low as another rock came hurtling by.

A third rock hit Niall’s shoulder, but he ignored it as he did the slash from the knife to his thigh when he’d mounted.

Red stained his breeches, but at least it wasn’t flowing freely. Tending it would have to wait.

They thundered down Argyle Street, causing carriages to swerve and the drivers to swear at them, then on to Trongate and past the Tolbooth, scattering pedestrians along the way. It wasn’t until they veered onto Gallowgate on the way out of town that Niall finally called to Annie to slow down.

“Are we clear?” she asked as he came alongside, keeping them to a trot.

“Nae yet,” Niall answered, “but I doona risk injury to the horses by galloping further on cobblestone. Besides, the ruckus we raise will leave a trail for any who are following us.”

Annie’s eyes widened again. “Do ye think they will?”

“I doona ken. The men were all on foot, which means they’d have to get to mounts. But I doubt any heads will cool so soon.” Niall gave a quick glance behind him to the presently quiet road. “We may have a quarter hour’s lead on them.”

“Where will we go?” Annie asked.

“For now, we just need to get into the country where we can hide.”

“And then?”

“And then, we head north,” Niall answered.

“How far north? Will I be safe? I doona feel—”

“Doona fash. I am taking ye where ye will be safe.”

Annie looked unconvinced. “And where is that?”

“Arisaig,” Niall replied. “My home.”

****

The gloaming had settled in by the time Niall finally called a halt to their travel for the day.

The horses were tired and had taken to plodding along.

Annie was exhausted from the hours of riding, and she thought Niall was looking a little peaked too.

The empty shepherd’s shack he chosen to stop at didn’t look like it would offer many creature comforts, but at the moment, Annie didn’t care.

Even a bed on rock-hard ground would feel good after hours spent in the saddle.

“’Tis nae an inn,” Niall said as he helped her down, “but ’tis dry shelter and there is a burn nearby for water.”

“I doona need an inn, but I wish I had nae dropped my portmanteau. My mother had put bread and cheese in it.”

“Doona fash,” Niall replied, “Shepherds oft leave supplies for the next one to use.”

“I will go in and check.”

Niall nodded. “I will tend to the horses and bring some water.”

“Do ye want me to help with the horses first?”

“Nae. Just check on the food supply.”

Annie noticed that his mouth looked tight and a bit white at the corners. Maybe he was really thinking there would be no food at all or maybe he was just really hungry. Standing there and pondering wasn’t going to help. She hurried inside.

Niall was right about the shelter being sturdy.

Even though it was nearly dark, Annie could see no openings in the overhead thatch or the mud and wattle walls, and the dirt floor was dry.

The only furniture in the small room was a rough-hewn table and two straight-back chairs.

A tin basin, along with a candlestick and tinder box, sat on top of a cabinet on one side of the room.

Annie took a pile of wool blankets from the table and placed them on the chair and then lit the candle, carried it to the table, and finished her visual tour.

A good-sized hearth took up most of the space on the other side of the tiny enclosure.

Annie eyed the kettle hanging from a thin pole laid across two Y-shaped iron yokes.

A stew pot meant there might be food after all.

She went to the cabinet and opened the doors and breathed a sigh of relief.

Along with tin plates and bowls, there was a mortar and pestle and a small sack of oats.

A half-full jar of honey sat next to it.

There was also a partial wheel of cheese wrapped in oilskin, and when she undid it, the cheese had only a few mold spots, which meant it hadn’t been there all that long.

It would be a meager supper, but it would feel like a meal fit for kings.

Annie poured some oats into the mortar and ground them, then placed the mashed contents in a bowl to add the water that Niall would bring.

Once she was satisfied she had enough to fill both their stomachs, she cleaned the hearth of ashes from a half-burned log, then went outside to look for kindling.

Niall must have taken the horses behind the shack since there was no sign of them.

She wasn’t sure how far the burn was, either, although she remembered hearing it for a short way while they cut through a forest trail.

Hopefully, she could have a fire going by the time he came back.

Going back inside, she laid the twigs and small branches she had gathered around the log.

One of her jobs at the boardinghouse had been to lay the fires, so it didn’t take much time to strike the tinder box and get a small flame started.

Once that was done, she looked around to see if there was anything else to do and then frowned.

Total darkness had fallen. Wherever that burn was, Niall should have been back by now.

Had they been followed after all? She didn’t think it possible since Niall had left the main road as soon as they cleared Glasgow.

They’d cut through fields and forests and across several burns and avoided country roads.

She didn’t think even bloodhounds would have been able to track them. So where was Niall?

She moved to the door, reached for the dagger Niall had insisted she keep strapped to her leg, and cautiously stepped back outside.

Only the silence of the country filled her ears.

Day creatures had settled in and night creatures were not yet about.

Annie began walking around to the back of the shack.

If one of the horses was missing, perhaps Niall had ridden off in search of food.

Both horses nickered as she came around the corner. Annie frowned again. If the horses were here…

Then she heard the moan. Squinting in the darkness—why hadn’t she brought the candle?—she moved forward and then nearly tripped over something. She bent lower and then gasped as her eyes adjusted.

Niall lay on the ground, a red stain running down his left leg.

****

Something warm and soft and gentle stroked his forehead.

A woman’s hand? Niall murmured incoherently.

God’s teeth! The lady had the most uncomfortable bed he had ever slept in.

Still, she smelled good. His arm flailed out, finding silken hair.

His hand instinctively cupped her head and he drew her down on top of him.

“Stop it! Let me go!”

Hmmm. Those weren’t the right words. The lady wanted him…

“I said, let me go!”

Niall groaned. His leg felt like it was on fire, but this very soft, curvy woman fit against him perfectly. He never was one to say no…

“Are ye daft? Did ye hit your head?”

That was definitely not the tone of a woman encouraging him. Niall opened his eyes woozily. “Annie?”

“Aye!” She scrambled off him as soon as his hold relaxed. “What do ye think ye are doing?”

Niall wasn’t really sure. He remembered taking the horses to the burn for water, then bringing them back.

One minute he’d been tending the animals, getting them settled, and the next he was lying on the ground, looking up at a very irate Annie Ferguson.

He bit back another moan as pain seared through his thigh again.

“I was stabbed.”

Instantly, her look changed to one of concern. “Here? By the cottage?” She picked up the dagger she’d dropped and looked around.

“Nae.” Niall forced himself to a sitting position. “It happened while we were leaving.”

Annie stared at him. “Ye rode all day with a wound? Why did ye nae say something?”

Niall shook his head. “What good would it have done? We had to get away.”

“We should have stopped sooner.”

“It was more important to put mileage between us and the weavers.”

“Stubborn man.” Annie put her hand to his forehead. “Ye are fevered. I need to get ye inside.”

“I can walk.” Niall forced himself to stand, then grimaced as pain shot through his leg when he put weight on it.

“Let me help.” Annie pulled his arm around her shoulders and put hers around his waist. “Ye can lean on me.”