Free A Highlander for Christmas by Jamie Carie

blacksmith fell, a large hole in the middle of his forehead beginning to burst with blood.
    Iain’s body grew tense and ready to spring at any moment. It was a madman he was dealing with.
    “Juliet! Hie yourself over to me immediately!” He had another pistol in his hand, probably from one of his men, who were all pointing weapons at them. There were more of them than Iain had first thought. Twenty or so.
    Malcolm grasped Ruck’s hair in his hand, making the young man grunt, and thrust him forward, the pistol at his back. “On the count of three, if you are not beside me, I will shoot your dearest brother.” His voice lowered to a silken purr. “But if you come willingly, I will release him and he can go as he pleases to live a life free of debt, and possibly, one day, a friend to us with many connections and advantages. I don’t think you’ve thought this through, my dear. A wild Scottish highlander may seem romantic now, but it would be a life in a frozen hell, in the wilds, working yourself to skin and bones. I…I will give you everything you could ever wish for. Money…power… You will rule every ballroom. ”
    Iain saw a tear, and then two, trickle down Juliet’s cheeks. She was shaking her head, a hopeless look of terror on her face.
    Malcolm narrowed his eyes at her tears. “ One ,” he said in a voice laced with evil.
    Juliet let out a wail, her gaze swinging to Iain. Iain shook his head but knew they had no choice. So much pain radiated from his chest that he thought it would burst. He took a deep breath.
    “ Two .” The gun at her brother’s back pressed harder, making Ruck cry out.
    “Don’t do it, Juliet.” Ruck shook his head but his eyes were full of fear.
    “Th—”
    Iain took Juliet’s arm and brought her from around him to in front of him, rasping low into her ear as she moved around his side, “Stay alive. I will come for you.”

    Juliet couldn’t feel her slipper-shod feet as she tottered toward her brother. She could hear her own whimpering, but felt like they were coming from another. A part of her detached and floated in agony toward the man who would have her at any cost.
    When she reached Ruck, she grasped him and held him to her. Malcolm reached around, grasped her upper arm in a tight squeeze that made her cry out and simultaneously pulled her toward his boney chest while pushing her brother toward Iain.
    “A wise move, MacLeon, though I was looking forward to killing you.” He tilted his head and gave Iain an eerie smile. “Perhaps another time.”

     “If you harm her in any way…” Iain narrowed his eyes and clenched his empty fists, his fingers tingling, longing for the sure grip of his sword.
    Malcolm threw back his head and laughed. “As if you have any say in my affairs. She’ll be my wife tonight, MacLeon, not yours. Go to your bed thinking about that.” He chuckled dark and deep, motioned to his men with an upraised arm and swung himself and Juliet around, his dark cloak flying out, taking his wife inside of it, taking her with him.
    Iain fell to one knee as they fled the room and mounted their horses. He dropped his head into his cupped hands and clenched his eyes closed, breathing deeply, focusing on God’s voice, knowing he couldn’t do this alone.
    After a few breaths he felt a shift inside his spirit—a turning away from the tragedy at hand and a turning toward Him. A peace slowly crept over him—not a good-will sort of peace that took away all feeling, all danger; no, this was a deeply sated calm to the depths of his being but still with a knife’s edge of fight—victory humming along its waves in a somehow strange and perfect accord.
    He looked up to see Ruck staring down at him as if he’d gone mad, breathing heavily. “Will you pray like an old woman?” he demanded with tears in his eyes. “We have to go after them.”
    Iain rose and clapped Ruck on one shoulder, his voice and eyes somber. “Aye, we will rescue her.”
    “How?” Ruck