Free Snowy Night with a Highlander by Julia London

darkly against the thin layer of snow and spreading toward her. He twisted her away from the sight of the dead wolf, clasped her in his arm, and pressed her face into his shoulder. “Steady, lass,” he said. “Steady.”
    “God help me, I never saw it!” she cried, her voice shaking. “I was almost eaten alive!”
    Duncan smiled wryly above her head. “I assure you, he preferred horsemeat,” he said. “He is dead; you’ve naugh’ to fear. But come now, let us be on our way—the wheel is repaired.”
    She reared back and looked up at him. “Mr. Duncan!You saved my life !” she cried, her eyes searching his face. “With no regard for your own safety, you saved my life!”
    “I had a gun,” he reminded her, but Fiona would not accept that and wildly shook her head, her eyes searching his face. Duncan was painfully aware that his bad eye was exposed to her and out of habit, turned his head.
    “I owe my life to you! How shall I ever thank you?”
    “By getting in the wagon,” he said, pulling her toward the enclosure.
    “What? Oh, no,” she said, firmly shaking her head. “I donna intend to ride back there after that ,” she said, gripping his wrist. “I shall stay close, if you donna mind. We might be set upon by packs of them at any moment. Aye, we should hurry along before they come!” she said, and let go of him.
    “He was a lone wolf,” Duncan tried, but she was already marching past him, and helping herself up onto the driver’s bench.
    He’d not win this battle, that was plain. With a sigh, Duncan saw after the skittish team before gathering his hat and his eye patch. If she’d noticed his eye in the ruckus, she gave no indication, but Duncan quickly pulled the patch over his eye nonetheless. He tugged his scarf up over his nose, donned his hat, and pulled the brim low over his eyes before climbing up and sending the horses to a trot.
    The snow was coming down heavily now, wet and thick. He figured they had perhaps three hours of light left and worried how far they would be able to travel. His team trotted along, throwing their heads back to sniff the air. Beside him, Lady Fiona felt compelled to relate all the ghoulish tales of wolves she’d heard as a child, but as thesnowfall thickened, she delighted in it, and recounted a sledding episode on a hill at an English country estate that had ended with the Prince of Wales tumbling head over heels down an embankment like a drunken snowman.
    Fiona really was quite entertaining. She had a talent for telling stories that made even him chuckle, someone who had not laughed in so long he could no longer remember the last time.
    But the heavy snow made travel difficult, and he could feel Fiona shivering next to him. As much as he enjoyed her company, it was dangerous to expose her to the elements. So Duncan pulled the team to a halt and climbed down from the driver’s bench.
    Fiona looked down at him with a smile. The tip of her nose was bright red, and the brim of her bonnet had begun to sag under the weight of the snow. “Come down,” he said.
    She instantly twisted about, looking back at the road they’d traveled. “Why? Are there more wolves?”
    “ No, ” he said. “But you should be under the tarpaulin.”
    “I’m really quite all right.”
    “Come down .”
    Fiona blinked wide eyes, but reluctantly came down off the bench. He helped her down, took her by the hand, and dragged her to the back of the wagon.
    She tried to lift the latch of the gate. “This is really unnecessary,” she said, her voice straining with her effort to unlatch the wagon’s gate. “From the look of it, there are only the two of us in all of Scotland. What harm is there if we enjoy a bit of human companionship? I doubt nations will fall if we sit together.”
    “I will no’ be responsible for any ague that comes on you.”
    “I am made of the hardiest Highland stock, sir! And what of you?” she demanded as he covered her hand with his and easily lifted the