Free Finding My Highlander by Aleigha Siron Page A

explode. Gulping deep breaths of choking air, she realized it would be foolish to speak. The children might think she was with the English who were destroying their homes.
    She raised her hand to her lips and whispered, “Shushshsh,” pointing in the direction from where they had fled. Then she pointed in the direction she had come from and motioned they should go that way. A girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age clung desperately to the hand of a small boy about four years old. The girl’s eyes were wide with terror, her lips trembled, and the boy at her side started to whimper.
    Andra shushed them again and lifted the lad to her chest, patting his back. His small arms instantly gripped her neck and he hid his face on her shoulder. She tucked his legs around her waist, then grabbed the girl’s hand and ran as fast as possible, dragging the girl with her.
    Never had she run so fast yet felt so slow. How many miles had she run before reaching this nightmarish scene, seven, eight, maybe more—bringing those murderous bastards far too close to their hideout. She ran and ran until she could run no farther then stopped, sucking great gulps of air. She looked behind praying no one followed them.
    She could hear the pounding of horses’ hooves but the sound came from in front of them rather than from behind. Had the murderers managed to get ahead of them as they ran? She whipped her head in every direction searching for an escape when strong arms lifted her onto a horse. She dropped the young girl’s hand but managed to hold onto the boy clutched to her chest when Kendrick’s voice penetrated her terror.
    “Be still, you foolish woman, and hold your wheesht .” He said something to the boy in Gaelic she did not understand, but it stilled him in her arms. Through her hazed and scrambled brain, she recognized Struan as the other rider. He firmly held the young girl in his lap. Kendrick’s arm crushed across her and the boy as she struggled to get air into her lungs. They rode over the hill away from the direction of the cave and the mayhem behind them and into a thicker forest of trees.
    They traveled many miles further than she had run. The men maneuvered the horses along a torturous route winding through a steep valley thick with mist, crossing several small streams until they turned up another steep incline. At the hill’s summit, the fog dissipated to reveal a rider on his horse.
    Rabbie walked his mount toward them. He circled to their rear and swept away their tracks using long lengths of brush and tree branches attached to the back of his horse. Soon, they were once again skirting the rocky scrabble leading up to the cave. All sense of time and direction had slipped away. No one had spoken a single word. A rumble of thunder and foreboding dark clouds moved fast in their direction, promising another storm would soon reach them. At least a good rain might wash away any trace of their passing. When they entered the cave, Struan set the girl aside and pulled clumps of brush and trees across the entrance.
    Rabbie dismounted swiftly and removed the boy from Andra’s arms, whispering soothing Gaelic in his ear. Kendrick swung down and pulled Andra after him. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly and he shook her brutally. His eyes glowed with heat and anger. A rigid band of sinew clenched with tension along his jaw.
    “Are you mad, woman? I leave you with precise instructions to stay in the cave and care for Lorne. And what do you do? You abandon my brother, tear off into the night, and nearly bring yourself into the hands of our enemies.”
    He shook her forcefully again, “Are you one of them, then. Do you seek to bring them to our hiding place and have us murdered?”
    She sputtered, then tightened her mouth and hardened her glare. With a quick thrust of her arms, she tried to break his hold, but he anticipated her maneuver this time. At the same moment she raised her arms, he flung her back with such