Page 3 of Stolen Highland Dreams (The Highlanders #9)

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F earing she and her brother would get caught this time after MacTavish’s men had searched for them practice fighting, Ella and Finnegan reached the hut, practically out of breath. Even still, they waited to ensure no one was about.

For what seemed like forever, they listened for the sound of the hunters, but when they were sure no one was nearby, they hurried to the hut and slipped inside.

“You have returned early,” Mina said, surprised as she and Amelda sewed patches on Finnegan’s spare plaid.

“I knocked Ella’s sword from her hands,” Finnegan said, speaking low.

Mina glanced at Ella.

Ella wrote: We heard hunters in the forest, and they heard us.

“You were no’ seen?” Mina sounded worried.

“Nay,” Finnegan said. Then he teased Ella. “Did you hear me? I knocked Ella’s sword from her grasp.”

Ella wrote in the dirt: Certes. I was thinking of MacAfee, which is why you knocked the sword out of my hands. But you see what I have always told you: If you are distracted, you lose.

He smiled. “Aye. You always say that.” Then he turned serious. “I want to try and find work with Dashiell’s clan.”

Ella feared for his safety should he say something he should not and give them all away. Yet he would soon be a man, and he needed to continue to learn a trade and live a life of his own.

It began to storm, with rain pitter-pattering through the branches and then on top of the hut's thatched roof.

On days like this, they usually managed to do some chores in the rain while no one was out and about. Still, they waited for about an hour, hoping the hunters had caught their prey, and returned to the castle for a feast. When Ella thought it would be safe, she and Finnegan put on their hooded cloaks and moved quietly, gathering water from the stream.

Afterward, they returned to the hut with the water, and then Ella and Amelda went out to gather more nuts.

Amelda loved to help, and though Ella worried about her being quiet enough or moving quickly enough if they thought someone might have heard them, she knew her cousin needed to get out of the hut and enjoy the forest, too.

Finnegan even fished at the nearby loch and brought home enough trout for all of them for dinner. After they finished eating, it was time for bed.

For a week now, Ella had been dreaming about the new chief of Cairn Castle, Dashiell MacTavish of Glen Affric. She wished he was someone she could trust, especially since she had only been able to rely on her younger brother, her cousin, and the woman who had taught them how to survive for the past five years.

The handsome laird was dancing with her at a feast held in the great hall of her castle. She cherished the moment as he leaned down and kissed her, his mouth warm against hers. She felt the thrill of anticipation, of joining him in his bedchamber, of making love to him. Cheers went up throughout the great hall, and she felt embarrassed and happy to share the kiss with him in front of everyone.

She belonged with him at the castle—her castle, his people. It felt right. Her younger brother danced with a girl his age—around ten summers, and her five-year-old cousin stood on the sidelines, smiling and clapping. For too many years, Ella had seen her castle through the forest across the stream and dreaded returning to it, afraid of what she had seen done to her people, and yet, now she was at peace there once again.

Thunder crashed, and rain pattered on top of the shelter, waking her fully, and she realized it was but a dream. Ever since he’d taken over the castle, she had dreams of Dashiell and wondered why she would. She glanced at Mina, who was still sound asleep.

They had no idea what Dashiell MacTavish was like—though she had seen him through the trees while on a few hunts with his men as she had hidden in the bracken. Maybe that’s why she had been dreaming of him.

He was a braw warrior, his chest covered in leather, his dark hair tied back, and his sculpted face, which had changed from concentration while on the hunt to a dimpled smile when he was amused at what one of his men said, had made her smile.

Finnegan wanted to see if the chief would hire him, and she worried about him. What if MacAfee learned where her brother had been living while he was working there? What if MacAfee and MacTavish truly were friends?

Ella got up and cooked the potatoes and mutton they had bartered for in the village with mushrooms and pheasant they had gathered in the forest, unlawfully, aye, but no one questioned where she got the food from, thank the gods.

“I want to work for MacTavish of Glen Affric,” Finnegan told her again as they sat down to eat on simple wooden stools they had carved.

Ella shook her head but knew Finnegan had to make his way in the world. The hut they were hiding in seemed to grow smaller the bigger her brother grew. Ella was twenty-winters herself and knew she would never have a husband.

Not as old as she was and because she couldn’t speak. Not after seeing her parents, her favorite aunt and uncle, and the rest of her clansmen and women murdered.

Ella considered Finnegan’s eager expression, his blue eyes wide, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got to let me try. I have some skills since I was an apprentice to the blacksmith in the nearby village. It was too bad that the blacksmith’s boy is old enough now that his da let me go.”

White-haired and having kindly gray eyes, Mina was as old as the woods and had lived there on and off forever, she told them when she gave them a safe haven. “Ella, Finnegan is right. He needs to find work at the castle. Also, you, Ella, and your cousin must return to Cairn Castle, your home and your heritage.”

Ella didn’t believe she and her family had any claim to the castle now.

“You would be safer if you could work there than living out here if MacTavish or his kin find you trespassing,” Mina said.

“And you?” Finnegan asked.

“Me?” Mina scoffed. “Once the fighting began, I have lived here and will happily die here when my time comes.” She pushed a loose strand of white hair behind her ear.

Ella wanted them to stay together—all of them. Mina had been with their family for so long and had helped them so much. Now that she was getting older, they aided her more, and Ella wouldn’t abandon her.

Mina stubbornly felt the castle belonged to Ella and her kin. To an extent, Ella did too, but she didn’t believe there was any way to rectify it.

They still worried that MacAfee would learn that Ella and some of her kin had survived the assault at Cairn Castle and that Ella might tell the king what had happened and have MacAfee punished. Ella wasn’t sure the king would act against MacAfee anyway. If the king favored the laird, he might be able to get away with anything.

Where are you from? Ella wrote in the dirt, wanting Finnegan to tell her the story he planned to make up when he spoke to MacTavish’s staff.

“From here,” Finnegan quickly said. “Mina reminds us that it’s better to tell what’s closer to the truth rather than tell wild tales that would catch us up.”

From the village, then? Ella wrote in the dirt.

Finnegan glanced at Mina, who said, “Thieves killed your parents. You’re an orphan. You’re from the area.”

Your name? Ella wrote.

“Finnegan.”

Nay. Your family name, Ella wrote.

“Fraser,” Mina said. “It was your mother’s family’s name. No one will connect you with your da’s clan then. Never mention the Gunn name.”

What would he work at? Ella wrote, asking Mina. Ella didn’t want to be separated from her brother. She felt she had to take care of him, though he was a hard worker. Just like she had to take care of their cousin, who was like their little sister. Ella didn’t want to lose any of them.

Not after all they’d been through, and since they had no other family—except for Uncle Lennox and his son, Michael. She figured Lennox would kill her if he could himself after she cut him with her sword and sgian dubh . But her da banished them from the clan for trying to rule over their people shortly before MacAfee laid siege to their castle.

“Finnegan can work at the armory as a blacksmith, with the horses in the stables, or any other chores. Finnegan, you must find a way to bring the rest of your family into the fold,” Mina said. “Ella can sew, take care of the children, hunt, fish, serve as a healer, and when she can speak again, she could teach reading and writing.”

Ella was so exasperated with herself that she couldn’t speak still. They’d had to be careful when MacAfee still owned Cairn Castle and hunted in these woods. Now that MacTavish owned it, he had the same rules. No one was allowed to hunt or gather food or wood in the forest without his permission. No one was allowed to live there.

Their blacksmith, the only other survivor from her clan, had been badly wounded but had recovered with Mina and Ella’s aid. He’d helped them expand Mina’s tiny lean-to into a small hut so well hidden in a patch of briars that no one had ever discovered that a group of people lived there.

He had left the area soon after that, knowing it was too small for him to stay. The chance of all of them getting caught would have been too great.

They had to be careful not to speak when others traveled through the forest, though that wasn’t a problem for Ella. They only lit a fire when they knew no one would be in the woods. When they went to the village for supplies, they had let on that they now worked for MacTavish, and no one questioned them.

He had hired a few villagers to fill some positions, the villagers had said.

“You have to let me try,” Finnegan appealed to his sister.

It would probably be easier for him to learn another trade at ten than wait until he was older. He was so eager and just as industrious as she was.

You can never reveal who you are if MacAfee returns to the castle.

“Nay, of course no’. He would want me dead. All of us dead,” Finnegan said. “I will go on the morrow then.”

Ella prayed he would be well-received, but she would be glad to see him return to them safe and sound if he wasn't.

“What about me?” Amelda asked. “Can I go too?”

“You can help Ella do whatever chores she is doing if she ends up at the castle,” Mina said. “Maybe Finnegan can find a way to bring you both over there.”

You too , Ella wrote. She wasn’t about to leave Mina behind in the woods. Without her guidance and love, Ella couldn’t have managed to care for her brother and cousin in the forest when they’d been so young.

She’d had no training on surviving in the wilderness on her own. She’d learned to dance, sew, and manage the staff. None of that had helped with living off the land and avoiding detection like they’d had to do. Her da had allowed her to train with a sword and sgian dubh at least, which had already proved invaluable.

“Aye,” Mina said.

“I dinna ken why you canna just use your magic to return us to the castle,” Finnegan said and took another bite of his pheasant.

“The magic is within you in the words you speak, how you treat others, your helpfulness, and your kindness,” Mina said.

Ella smiled. They knew Mina could do things others could not, but they were careful never to speak of it to anyone. They didn’t want anyone to accuse her of being a witch.

“What did you dream of last night?” Finnegan asked Amelda.

“Of butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies.” Amelda waved her hands around as if they were butterflies taking flight.

At least she hadn’t seen the horrors Ella had witnessed except for her beautiful dream of MacTavish. Her brother hadn’t seen as much as she had during their flight from the castle either, she hadn’t thought.

Finnegan was trying to make a point. He swore that Mina made them dream of happy things so that he wouldn’t continue to have nightmares about the fighting he’d seen. Amelda had been too young, but she still had pleasant dreams.

Except for Ella. She had nightmares. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she would have dreams of MacTavish now—his dark beard, piercing blue eyes, distinguished, tall, strong jawline, impressive.

She had told Mina about it, not how he looked, but that she had seen him. Of course, Mina wanted her to talk to him and ask for employment, but she could not.

Once, to her shock and pleasure, Ella had seen him remove his shirt at the loch where she bathed. He’d washed his bare chest. He was muscled, just beautiful. She’d seen men half naked before practicing fighting in the inner bailey when her da was in charge. But no’ bathing in such a sensuous way.

She so wanted to touch and wash him, and…och, she had been so in awe, it was a good thing no one had seen her ! And she did not tell Mina about that either.

“What about you?” Finnegan asked.

Ella shook her head. Not only did she not want to share anything about her dreams, she didn’t want to write them down on the floor when she was hungry and wanted to eat the rest of her food.

“I dreamed of being a great warrior.” Finnegan drank some of his mead.

Ella looked up from her bowl at Finnegan. Sure, she had been teaching him to swordfight, but only so he could protect himself if needed. She quickly glanced at Mina. She oft wondered if Mina was sharing premonitions with them through their dreams, which made Ella think of dancing with and kissing Dashiell. Nah. She just wished that to be true.

Mina smiled a little.

“Well, and about catching the biggest fish ever. I also made friends with the deer like you do, Ella.” Finnegan ate some of his bread. “I know you dinna believe I remember what had happened to us, but I do. I wasna a baby like Amelda. I was the age Amelda is now. I dinna remember everything. Just flashes.”

She was sorry he’d remembered any of it.

“You were moving us too quickly into the tunnels before they discovered us for me to see as much as you must have seen. I will never forget hearing the screams and the sound of swords striking swords and shields. And the man calling out to his men to take care that they didna hurt Lady Margaret.”

Ella took a deep breath and nodded. Sometimes, she wished she had all her memories back, but other times, she didn’t. She had wondered if he had remembered seeing their da dead, but she never spoke of it to him in case he had blocked it from his memories.

“Why can I speak then?” Finnegan asked.

Sometimes, Ella thought, Finnegan asked too many questions.

“People deal with trauma in different ways,” Mina said.

“Ella doesna even remember what she saw,” Finnegan said.

But Ella did! She just didn’t want to discuss it with him and make him relive more of it. Or for Amelda to learn about it.

“She saw enough to affect her profoundly,” Mina said. “Simultaneously, she was terrified that she would lose the two of you.”

She thought it might have been when the massive warrior had fallen dead on top of her, and Tannon and her brother had struggled to move him. She remembered being terrified that she was going to suffocate to death and wasn’t able to speak any further after that.

“Will she ever get her voice back?” Finnegan asked.

“She must.”

Ella had tried! Goddess knows she had. But it was like having a night terror: She wanted to cry out in fright at seeing the horror before her and couldn’t utter a sound. Only now, it was always during her waking hours.

After they ate and cleaned up, they did their chores outside the hut. They gathered nuts, wood, and water, cleaned their clothes in the nearby stream, and then spent hours sewing. They ate, and then it was time to work on sword fighting.

“Can I go too?” Amelda asked.

“Nay. You need to be abed,” Mina said.

Then Ella belted her sword, and so did Finnegan. She grabbed a lantern, kissed and hugged Amelda goodnight, and wrote in the dirt: Sleep well.

“Aye,” Amelda said, looking drifty-eyed already.

Ella knew taking Amelda with them wasn’t a good idea. If they ran into trouble, it would be harder for them to escape to the safety of the hut.

She and Finnegan walked silently, as they always did on their nightly sword practice, in case anyone was in the woods. They’d never had any trouble, but they had to be resolute in keeping themselves safe.

She had thought of practicing in the meadow near the loch but was afraid someone would see them, and they wouldn’t be able to escape successfully. The trees and bracken would conceal their lantern light in the woods, and they could easily evade an enemy.

When they found the area where they had room to practice, she set the lantern down on a rock, and then they unsheathed their swords. Their swords clanked as they fought each other. Finnegan was so strong; she was proud of how skilled he had become and how powerful his swings.

His footwork had been improving, but hers had too. Now that he was stronger but not as tall as her, he made her work at it.

After they practiced until they were tired, she heard horses off in the distance. Immediately, she thought of MacAfee, and she wanted to kill him in the worst way. She had to remind herself that MacAfee was no longer there; instead, they were probably MacTavish’s people.

It didn’t mean Dashiell would be with them even if they were MacTavish's clansmen. However, she would love to get a glimpse of him again. Dreaming of him was preferred to having nightmares.

“MacAfee?” Finnegan asked as she put out their lantern light.

She hurried them deeper into the bracken, far away from where they’d been practicing their swordsmanship in case the riders had heard them and were trying to locate who was out fighting in the forest.

She shook her head, but he couldn’t see her response in the dark.

The riders should have gone in more of a straight line toward where they had been practicing, but instead, they were drawing closer to where she and Finnegan dropped down in the bracken to wait it out before they returned to the hut, carrying lanterns to light their way.

“Quinn, I heard them back that way,” a man said.

“I know, Fallon, which is why we’re going this way,” Quinn said. “I believe they went this way. Watch carefully and look for a body.”

She realized then that the men believed that she and her brother had truly been battling it out between them, not practicing sword fighting, which would make more sense. She’d heard their names before.

Quinn was the advisor to MacTavish, and Fallon was his cousin, the clan’s tanist, second in command of the clan. She felt guarded relief that it was them and not MacAfee’s men. However, she couldn’t help wanting to kill MacAfee. More than anything, she wanted to right the wrongs, as much as she could, for what he had done.

“Are you sure what we heard was two people fighting with swords or something more…”

“Mystical?” Quinn asked. “Like the Nymph of the Forest?”

“Aye, the fey has friends?”

“Sword fighting? Come on, Fallon. We say naught about this to Dashiell,” Quinn said. “He will think we are losing our minds.

Nymph of the Forest?

The horses rode away, and once they thought it was safe enough, Ella and Finnegan headed back through the forest to the hut and got ready for bed. Mina and Amelda were already asleep.

Ella prayed she was doing the right thing by letting Finnegan go to Cairn Castle for work in the morn. She hoped no one would learn who he was and tell MacAfee that he had not killed all her kin as he had thought and put Finnegan’s life—and theirs—at risk.