Highlander's Embrace

Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Elyn

1540 — August 27th

Elyn was still fuming at Gavin. She threatened to go back to the castle and turn him in, but she had a tugging sensation in heart that stopped her. When he had hung his head in defeat, she almost felt sorry for him.

But it was his fault, wasn't it? If he had just listened to his father and done what he said, would they even be in this mess? A twisted part of her tried to console her with the idea she never would have met the son of Angus MacKenzie out in the highlands otherwise. She brushed the thought away with a wave of her hand.

They were resting at a small loch. While she had been starting a fire, Gavin had waded out in the water, his armor stripped off, and his kilt coiled up his legs. She was amused to see him trying so hard to catch a fish, but doubted if he could actually pull it off. Didn't Scots hunt on horses, not in the water?

She sighed as she tried to keep her anger under control. She went to work on tending the fire. A great log had been dragged from a nearby glen and left to rot near the loch. Some drunk clansmen probably thought they could make a boat out of it, at least, that's what Gavin said. Elyn didn't have very much experience with such worries.

She fell to her hands and knees, getting them dirty as she leaned in close to blow on the spark she had started. The spark jumped and caught some blades of grass she had tossed in as kindling, and they lit up and started to glow. She sat back down on her buttocks in satisfaction, crossing her arms and hoping Gavin was appreciating the work she was putting in. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him dive his hands into the water again, cursing when he pulled them up empty for the fiftieth time. She had to admit, he had determination.

And his body was a sight for sore eyes. She hadn't seen a man so rugged in a long time, except for the fleeting glances she got of the clans that lived in the castle. Most of the other farming clans had either children who were too young to give a second thought to, or too old to even till the earth. She tried to forget the fluttering feeling her chest picked up when her eyes danced across his wet muscles and skin, the energy threatening to rip itself free if he dared to unleash it.

The horses were grazing nearby, their whinnying and snorts the only other sound in the small valley except for Gavin's splashing and the gentle crackle of the fire picking up intensity. After a few minutes and some expertly placed wood, the fire was good to be left alone for a couple hours.

She stood up and brushed herself off again, and went to the fallen log nearby. She pried a long piece of wood from the rotten husk and examined it. It was slender and she managed to break it off with a pointed tip. Were men this useless all the time? It was a wonder she didn't starve every winter with his family running things.

She was mocking him, but she knew it was just her emotions building up. She didn't want to berate him for the distress her family suffered at the hand of the MacDonalds, but who else could she turn her blame on? Was it her fault for not fighting aggressively enough to get them to move somewhere else? To try and make the farm work? If she had worked harder at tilling the land that spring, could she have stopped all this?

She hiked up her dress and tied it into a knot at her thighs to keep it from getting wet. The idle thought of removing it crossed her mind, but she kept it to herself. While she had been coy and mischievous with Gavin since they met, she certainly couldn't have him seeing her naked as she saw him earlier that day.

And what a fine arse he did have.

She waded through the water with the stick in hand, catching Gavin's attention as he reeled up from another failed catch.