Simon whirled toward the voice then pushed Grace behind him. Her uncle’s right-hand man shoved the bushes aside and strode toward them, a gun pointed in their direction.
“Nigel, what are you doing?” she demanded.
“I’m working. For myself.” He motioned them forward. “Bring the backpack with the treasure over here.”
Simon and Grace turned to each other. Panic rushed through her face, but so fast no one else would have noticed. He gestured toward Nigel. “Go ahead. Give him your bag.”
“No funny stuff, either.”
Taking her sweet time, she approached Nigel. “My uncle trusted you, gave you a job when no one else would.”
“Please. He knew what he got when he hired me.” He brandished the gun. “You can stop there.”
She halted within a few feet of him.
“Toss it to me.”
He cringed. Don’t do it, Grace. If the treasure was supposed to be in there, it would be damaged with the throw. Then Nigel would know Simon had the box instead of her. She dropped her bag off her shoulders but held onto the strap. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Nigel gave her a pointed stare. “Don’t waste my time. Do what you’re told.”
“If I toss the bag, the treasure box will be ruined.”
Yes! He and his girl were on the same page.
Nigel seemed to think about her words for a few seconds. “All right. Bring it a little closer, place it on the ground then step away.”
Still she gripped the strap. “So you can take it then kill us?”
He aimed the weapon toward Simon. “If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in your boyfriend somewhere so he’ll live a painful final few hours.”
A thousand ideas swam through Simon’s head. How the hell can I get us out of this? A distraction, maybe, so they could run. What would work? Come on. Think here. Yes, he’d stood up to his brother the other night, but moving on Nigel would be a whole different level of dangerous—the guy was built like a linebacker.
Grace placed her backpack on the ground then walked to Simon’s side.
“Good girl.” Trying his best to keep the weapon on them, Nigel opened the pack.
Simon tugged her arm. When she glanced at him, he tilted his head toward the trees by her side. She nodded then shifted her gaze to the traitor. Tugging her wrist again, he flashed three fingers. He’d rather attempt a risky plan than stand there, waiting to die.
Nigel tucked the gun under one arm.
Simon held out a finger. One.
He’d rather be shot putting up a fight than give in to a thief.
Two.
The other guy rummaged through the bag.
Three.
Nigel swore. “It’s not in here.”
Simon shoved Grace into the nearby woods. “Go!”
“Hey!” Nigel growled.
The echo of gunfire hammered his ears. His heart slammed into his sternum. “Keep going!”
Like a champion, she ran even faster, sprinting through the trees like lightning. “You should be in front. You’ve got the treasure.”
Not a chance. “Don’t stop.” If Nigel managed to reach them, Simon would rather have the bullet slam into his backpack than either of them. The Grays had been without the box for years. They wouldn’t miss it.
Another round of gunfire went off. This time, though, the noise had faded. Maybe Nigel was having trouble figuring out where they were.
The thought urged him on although running began to take its toll. Heavy breaths took over for him as he struggled to give his lungs more oxygen. In front of him, Grace panted, too. After a quick glance behind them with no sign of Nigel, he grabbed her elbow. “Wait.”
They stood next to each other, caught up in the danger, the rush to get to safety.
“What for?” Eyes wild, she scanned the way they’d just come.
“Take a minute to catch your breath.” He yanked their map out of his pocket and hurried to unfold it.
“We don’t have time.”
After a few scans of the map, Simon realized that the MacPhersons’ clan grounds were in plain sight, and another plan formed in his head.
“We’ve got to go.” She continued down the current path.
He pinched her shirt. “This way.”
When he pointed toward the dense brush to his left, she frowned. “Are you crazy?”
“I might be, but I’ve got an idea. If we keep to our current route, Nigel will gain on us then we’ll have to fight. If we go my way, I think we might be able to find help.”
More gunfire went off behind them, a little closer than before.
Grace shoved his arm. “Fine, but you lead the way. We’re protecting the treasure box. Plus you know where you’re going.”
As he guided her through the trees, he hoped he could get them to safety.
Nigel remained behind them, sometimes closer than others. Had the traitor figured out which way they’d gone? If Simon had read the map right, he should be setting foot on MacPherson land soon.
In the distance, he spotted the turrets of a castle. His heart constricted. Almost there.
The woods fanned out, though. Being in the open field beside the home hadn’t crossed his mind. They’d be in plain view. Nigel would have a perfect shot at them. Then he’d have the treasure.
No. It had to end a different way. He scanned the grounds, hoping for any sign of the brothers.
Another round of gunfire erupted behind them.
“Simon, what are we doing?” The worry in her voice spurred him on. He would not let her be injured because he couldn’t get the job done.
At the edge of the field, he crouched down. “This is the MacPherson home.”
She joined him. “What?”
“You told me before about the Highland tradition of assistance, about how if someone showed up on their doorstep, the Highlanders were bound to help even if they were sworn enemies.”
She eyed the castle. “Yeah, a tradition from a long time ago.”
“We have no other choice.”
She chewed on her bottom lip as though weighing the possible outcomes of his plan. He grasped her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “On the count of three, we run toward the front door.”
“No need to.” Another gun clicked to their right. Colum and his big-ass brother stood glaring at them, again with weapons drawn.
Jumping to her feet, Grace gripped the younger man’s arm. “Please. The Highland tradition. You have to help us. Someone’s trying to kill us.”
Angus’s eyes narrowed, seeming to gauge her plea. Grunting, he nodded. “Aye, we’ll help ye.”
“Come, lass.” The older one, Colum, urged her closer while he glanced into the woods. “Hurry now. We haven’t much time.”
***
Grace couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking whether she held them or wrapped them around her stomach. None of this plan would be easy, especially since she’d demanded to be in the thick of the danger. At the time, it had sounded like a great idea. Yeah, right. Staring into the woods, at least a half mile from the castle, she fought the urge to throw up.
“Stop fidgeting,” Simon whispered from his hiding spot behind a thick bush.
She brushed her palms along her thighs.
Tree leaves swayed.
Glancing in the direction of the noise, her heart caught in her throat.
“He’s a-comin’,” Angus warned while he rushed from the tree stump to his own hiding spot next to his brother.
She faced the direction from which Nigel would approach. With her hands on the straps of the backpack holding the Gray treasure, she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“If you stick to the plan, Gracie, you’ll be fine.” From behind her, Simon pressed his fingers to her elbow—a tiny touch, but one she so needed. “I’ve got your back.”
“Wssssht!” The older brother glared in her direction.
The sound of Nigel’s heavy feet pounding the earth increased the closer he got to her.
She stood up straight. I’ve got this.
The traitor slowed near her, his nasty grin growing wider. “I knew I’d catch up to you.” He scanned around her. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Nigel’s gun was pointed toward the ground.
“He went for help.”
“You mean he left you alone for me?”
“I hurt my ankle.” Liar. She pretended to limp away from him. “I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with him.”
“I don’t believe you.” He raised the weapon. “Come out, Andrews, or I’ll put a bullet through her.”
It took everything she had to keep from glancing in Simon’s direction. “He’s not here. I swear.”
Closing the distance between them, he aimed for her head. “You expect me to believe your story?”
“Okay, here!” She covered her head, cowering before him as the others had suggested. Once she yanked the backpack off her shoulder, she held it out to Nigel. “Take it. Just please don’t hurt me.”
“Open it. I want to see the treasure. Do it, or I swear I will shoot you.” Clearly, he didn’t want to put a bullet in her because he’d threatened it a few times since he’d caught them coming out of the caverns. But he still frightened her.
She flipped the top open. Um, any time, guys. She stuck her hand inside the bag full of rocks and pretended to struggle with the treasure.
“Hurry up, Grace.”
“Hold on. It’s squeezed in here tight.” Where the hell are they?
“You stupid bitch!” Nigel raised the butt of his gun and slammed it into her temple. Her teeth rattled. Pain shot behind her eyes, and she collapsed.
“No!” someone hollered.
Commotion formed around her—voices, grunts, thumps. She pushed her body upright in time to witness her partner whaling on Nigel, punch after punch. The gun lay on the ground a few feet from her, out of reach of any of them. Where were the brothers? Moisture trickled along the side of her face. She swiped her palm over it. Blood. Damn. No wonder it hurts so much.
A big body thumped onto the ground, lying limp. She tried to focus her vision.
“Gracie?” Simon slid in beside her, his hands clenched around her arms. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little dizzy.” Um…understatement? “What about you?” Blood dripped from more parts of him—knuckles, nose, a gash in his cheek—than her.
Clasping her fingers, he kissed her. “I’m fine.”
“Where are the brothers?” Why hadn’t they followed through with their plan to help?
A holler bolted across the open grounds. “I’ll kill you both!” Nigel lunged for his weapon then rushed toward them.
Simon threw himself over her body. “I love you, Gracie McKay,” he whispered.
She squeezed her eyes closed, terror stealing her breath. She tightened her hold on him.
But instead of gunfire, pieces of steel clanged.
“You’ll not be doing any killing today,” Angus declared.
“Or any other day if we have anything to say about it,” added Colum. “Are you two all right?”
“Yeah.” After rolling to one side, Simon helped her to sit up.
She glanced across the grounds at a scene pulled right from a Highland romance novel. The brothers stood on either side of Nigel, each with a fist planted on one hip, their kilts swaying in the wind. Their swords crossed into an X in front of the traitor, dangling closer to his crotch any time he tried to move. The MacPherson men all but growled at their prisoner then tossed sweet grins her way.
Her belly rolled with laughter, both from relief and the ridiculous ending to their harrowing adventure. Leaning into Simon, she wrapped her arms around her waist and laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. His chest rumbled with deep chuckles, too. While he enclosed her in his embrace, new thoughts formed in her mind. Yes, they’d succeeded. They were safe, too. But they owed the MacPherson brothers.
While the brothers directed Nigel to stand at sword point, Simon tucked his finger under her chin. “Like I’ve said before, you need to smile more often.” Lowering his head, he took possession of her mouth.