DUN ARD
SCOTLAND
1304
Hurts.
“Who’s there?” Ellie awoke in the dark, cold and disoriented, her eyes at first unable to focus, sensitive from the bright flashes she’d experienced. With the sound of a hard, steady rain beating above her head, it all came rushing back to her. As impossible as it seemed, she must have been struck by lightning. What else could explain all those crazy lights she’d seen? Still, as best she could remember, the storm had been miles away. It made absolutely no sense.
Hurts.
Someone was here with her. It was a plaintive voice, vaguely familiar, as if she’d heard it, or one like it, before.
She opened her eyes as wide as possible, willing them to adjust quickly to the dimly lit surroundings as she stretched out her hand, feeling around her.
Her fingers encountered a large, furry mound.
Hurts.
“Hold on. I’ll help you.”
Where had she heard that strange, reedy voice before? Not heard, exactly. Nothing out loud. More like sound and pictures floating inside her head.
“Oh my God!”
Now she remembered. The day after the mark had shown up on her breast, her mind had started playing horrible tricks on her. It had happened for the first time out at the Pauls’ ranch when she’d been so sure she’d heard their cat speaking in her mind as if through mental telepathy. Mental telepathy with pictures.
And it had continued to happen ever since.
Ellie jerked her hand back and bolted upright, immediately wishing she hadn’t as a pain shot through her head and waves of dizziness assailed her. Raising both hands to her temples, she concentrated on not passing out as shivers racked her body.
None of this made any sense. Could the pain and the dizziness and the cold shivers all be the aftereffects of a lightning strike? She didn’t remember ever having heard anyone describing feeling like this after such an experience.
Trying to calm herself, she breathed in deeply, an exercise that quickly told her she wasn’t anywhere near her river any longer.
In fact, the smells that assaulted her nose were those of a barn. It even felt like hay under her hands when she reached back down. With her eyes adjusting to the dim light, she recognized she was in some kind of a stall and standing next to her was what had to be the largest dog she had ever seen.
Help.
The largest, most pitiful dog she had ever seen, she quickly amended.
After only a moment’s hesitation, she crawled toward the animal and, reaching out, she gently stroked her hand down his side. Something was wrong. The dog was in pain.
Ellie had always had a natural affinity for animals. For years she had worked summers as an assistant to the vet in their county, helping with the animals in his care. Recently, though, since the mark had shown up, her affinity had become something else all together. Something scary. Scary to the point where she’d been avoiding all animals other than the sheep on her ranch.
People didn’t “hear” animals. Not normal, sane people anyway.
But this pitiful creature needed her, his pathetic plea reaching her heart. She couldn’t turn her back on him.
“You poor baby. What’s happened to you?” she crooned as she continued to softly stroke the thick, wiry fur. Her fingers rippled over every one of the dog’s prominent ribs. “They sure don’t overfeed you, do they?” she murmured, exploring down the dog’s front legs.
He stood quietly until her hand reached his foot.
Hurts.
“I know.” She focused on the picture in her mind. This was the source of his pain. “I’ll be careful. Let me have a look.” She lifted the paw, wet from the dog’s licking at it.
Embedded in the pad of the dog’s foot, right between his toes was a large thorn. She might have missed it in the dimly illuminated stall if not for her mental visions of the animal’s pain.
Another wave of dizziness washed over Ellie as she grasped the thorn between her fingertips, and she paused, waiting until she felt it pass. It took two tries to pull the barb from the dog’s flesh, but in the end the thorn gave way.
Good!
The word exploded into her mind, propelled on a wave of sheer gratitude and happiness.
At the same moment, the dog toppled her over, pinning her shoulders to the ground, joyously licking her face by way of thanks.
Unable to lift her arms or move out from under the dog’s weight, she tossed her head to the side to escape the brunt of his large wet tongue. It was then she saw the huge man emerge from the shadows, an enormous sword held out in front of him.
Ellie followed her natural instincts at that point and screamed for all she was worth.
Caden MacAlister sloshed through the mud of the dark courtyard on his way to the stables, muttering under his breath. He pulled his plaid tightly about him to ward off the cold, heavy rain.
This was a prime example of the sort of task he hated most.
Of course, he could have sent one of his men to take care of the problem, but he refused to send anyone to carry out a duty he wasn’t willing to perform himself.
Blind Tavish had brought one of the deerhounds here to Dun Ard to be destroyed. The creature had refused to run on the last hunt and turned on the old man in the feeding pens. While Tavish was difficult at best in his dealings with people, he had a soft heart for the hunting dogs and would not put one down himself. Not even one that had attacked him.
No, instead the old man, with the aid of the lad who helped him care for the beasts, had tied the dog up and brought him here for the laird to deal with. But Blane was away on much more important business, leaving this chore to Caden.
As if he relished the task of harming an animal. Even one gone mad. It was for this reason he had delayed coming out here for the last couple of hours.
Still, according to Tavish, the animal threatened the safety of the people, and that made it Caden’s responsibility in his cousin’s absence. A responsibility he took seriously. After all, one day he would be laird. He could not afford to feel compassion for the animal awaiting him.
“It’s naught but a beast gone mad. No different from any other wild creature threatening my land,” he mumbled to himself.
Entering the stable, he lowered the woolen plaid to his shoulders and shook his head, dislodging the droplets of rain that clung to him. A small fire burned in the contained pit of the stableboy’s chamber, casting a poor, flickering light over the interior of the barn but adding little warmth.
All thoughts of pity for the unfortunate beast fled Caden’s mind as he neared the stall where the maddened animal had been placed.
He drew his sword in response to the scene confronting him. A lad lay beneath the crazed beast, pinned down by his great paws. Apparently he had arrived just in time since even now the young man screamed in his terror.
Caden moved forward slowly, keeping his eyes on the enormous dog, hoping to calm the boy with his words.
“Hold still, lad. Dinna move a muscle and I’ll bring the beast down before he’s time to hurt you.”
“You’ll do what?”
The frightened boy’s strangled reply sounded more child than man, but Caden couldn’t afford to spare him a glance, his attention locked firmly on his four-legged adversary.
Another foot forward, carefully, slowly so as not to panic the beast into attacking the boy. Only a little farther and he could open the gate to the stall.
“You keep your distance, mister!”
Before Caden could reach the gate, the boy pushed the dog away and rose to his knees, throwing his arms out in front of the beast, the flickering light glinting off his face.
Caden froze.
Not his face. Her face!
With her body outlined in the glimmer of firelight, there was no mistaking the feminine curves, in spite of the odd clothing she wore that had led to his initial mistake. It was a woman trapped in the stall with the maddened animal!
Caden no longer doubted or pitied. He would do whatever was necessary to rescue the woman. He had only to slip into the stall. To maneuver himself in between her and the animal that threatened her.
“Rise to yer feet slowly, lass, and work yer way this direction. Dinna make any sudden movements to provoke the beast to attack.” He kept his voice low and calm, with the intent to soothe—both the beast and the woman.
She lifted a hand to her face, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead for a moment before speaking.
“What’s wrong with you? This poor creature isn’t about to attack me.”
Hand on the gate, Caden paused to reassess. The beast did seem almost as intent on protecting the woman as she was in protecting him. Still, Tavish knew his animals and Caden knew Tavish.
“The dog is maddened. Now move away from him, lass. He’s already turned on his keeper this very day.”
She faced the animal, putting her arms around him and resting her forehead against his side.
“Would that be the keeper who half starves this poor creature? Or the boy who mistreats him, teasing him with bits of food?” She glared up at Caden. “The same keeper who never bothered to check this animal for injury when he wouldn’t run? I don’t blame this poor dog one bit. I would have attacked the bastard, too.”
The image of this slip of a lass confronting the grizzled old dog keeper almost brought a chuckle along with it, but Caden stifled the urge. This was no time to find humor. The woman was in danger whether she knew it or not.
He lifted the latch, easing himself through the gate into the stall. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, worried as much about the woman’s response as that of the dog. Perhaps he could distract her and get her away from the animal before it was too late.
“The beast is injured?” The deerhound didn’t appear hurt, but neither did it appear to be maddened.
“He had a large thorn in his footpad. Any fool who bothered to check could have found it.” A shiver racked her body and she drooped back down, as if leaning on the dog was all that kept her up on her knees.
“Are you hurt, lass?”
All thoughts of stealth vanished and he crossed the ground between them in two steps, leaning down to grip her arms and lift her to her feet. She stumbled against him and for an instant he could swear the scent of fresh peaches washed over him before she pulled away.
“I…I don’t think so.” She put both hands to her head again. “But I’m so confused. Nothing here looks familiar. Who are you?”
“Who am I?” She had mettle, he’d give her that. “The better question is who are you and how have you come to be in my stable?”
“Ellie Denton and…I’m not exactly sure how I got here. I think I might have been struck by lightning.”
Lightning? Not on a night such as this. Perhaps her mind was touched. It would explain much about her behavior.
“No likely in this weather, lass. We’ve all but snow this eve. Now come away from the beast and we’ll get you up to the keep.” The dog appeared calm enough for the moment. This woman, this Elliedenton, was his more immediate concern.
“Snow?” she squeaked, her eyes large.
“Aye. Come along.” He grasped her arm again, drawing her toward him.
Immediately the great dog tensed, pushing in front of Ellie, growling and baring his teeth.
“Shh,” she soothed, her hand on the beast’s head. “I feel like we can trust this man. At least, I hope we can.” She rubbed the back of her other hand over her eyes before looking up at Caden. “I’m going to have to take a chance on you, cowboy.”
Her words startled him. What was this madwoman going on about now? “Aye?”
“Promise me you won’t hurt this animal.”
“Yer hardly in a position, lass, to be…”
“I need your promise to protect him or I can’t leave him.” She lifted her hand toward Caden, stumbling as she started forward.
He reached her as her legs gave way and swept her up into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder, the smell of peaches wafting around him again.
“Verra well. You have my word.” Why he’d agreed to her ridiculous demand, he couldn’t say. Perhaps for no other reason than it seemed so important to her.
“You swear it?” she mumbled, her eyes closed.
“I said as much, did I no?” He shook his head in irritation as he tossed the end of his plaid up over her head, preparing to go out into the night. “No that you’ve any reason to question my—”
Her soft fingers unexpectedly stroking down the side of his cheek struck him mute.
“Thank you.” Her eyes fluttered shut but a tiny smile remained even as her hand dropped.
He shook his head and started toward the door of the stable, surprised at what had just happened.
Surprised at himself.
“You’ve the luck of the Fae about you tonight, beastie,” he called over his shoulder as he headed out into the night.
He ducked his head against the cold rain, clutching his bundle tightly against his chest. Now that he thought about it, the whole of this evening had the feel of the Fae to it.