He fell asleep then, his mind filled with dreams of the bonny lass sleeping so close, but yet so far from him. They were running through a meadow, Alana with a braided wreath of flowers in her hair as she giggled whilst running ahead of him, daring him to catch her. When he did, he whirled her around, making her squeal, afore he captured her mouth with his.
He startled awake, reaching for Alana only to realize where he was, and that it had only been a dream. He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm.
The world had a funny way of moving sometimes. Of course, the first time the vestiges of settling fell upon him, it was with a lass that was promised to another.
Chapter Twelve
Alana walked silentlybeside Rory as they navigated over fallen limbs and slippery rocks. Always there with a hand at her elbow to steady her, or an encouraging word telling her she could do something, she was finding Rory’s presence to be more and more welcome.
The past couple of nights she had spent with him had given her a deeper insight into the man Rory Hart was. He was frustrating at times, but he had opened up to her as well. Sometimes she thought he fashed on whether he had said too much. But he hadn’t. She had enjoyed seeing the side of him that she kenned he rarely revealed to anyone.
It made her feel special that she was the one he chose to let his guard down with. And bit by bit, she was doing the same with him. Though she still hadn’t admitted that she didn’t want to marry the man her father was telling her she had to. She wanted to be selfish and for once not do as she was told. To not fulfill her duty.
But she had not. She could not.
Just the thought felt like a betrayal to her family, and she couldn’t do that to them. Her family’s livelihood was dependent on her going through with this union.
It mattered naught how fetching she found Rory. How she let her eyes linger on him when he didn’t ken she was watching.
The time spent outdoors hiking was evident in his strong build. His wide shoulders that he used to pull himself up ledges. Into trees. His arms that bulged with thick muscle honed from those same activities and more. Things like chopping wood or swimming. It was the swimming that gave him the narrow, tapered waist that she had seen glimpses of.
She sighed.
“Are ye tired?” Rory asked beside her.
“Pardon?” It took a moment for her to realize that she had sighed aloud, drawing his attention. She flushed, embarrassment washing over her. “Nay. I am fine to carry on.”
He gave her an odd look but shrugged and kept moving forward. They approached a narrow trail and just afore they got there, three terrifying looking men emerged from the trees, blocking their path.
“Give us yer coin,” the taller man demanded, an evil grin showing rotten teeth and Alana gasped, shrinking back in fear at the dagger the man swung in their direction.
Rory immediately pushed Alana behind him, stepping in front of her, offering her protection as his hand moved to his dirk, his back straight.
One of the thieves lunged, but he was no match for Rory. He quickly took him down with brutal efficiency, jabbing his dirk into the man’s neck. Alana’s hands flew to her mouth, stifling the scream that threatened to burst from her mouth. The man slumped to the ground with a soft thud and Rory quickly snatched the sword that the thief dropped.
One of the other thieves charged them, his sword raised above his head. As he swung down, Rory pushed Alana out of harm’s way and countered the strike.
Strong arms circled around her waist, dragging her away from the battling men. Refusing to be taken wherever he was pulling her to, she slammed her foot onto his with as much might as she could muster.The move wasn’t enough to hurt him but surprised him enough so that he let go of her. Quickly, she turned and brought her knee up, connecting with his groin. He howled in agony, but managed to reach out and grab hold of her hair as he doubled over. Wincing against the bite of pain, she maneuvered and clamped her teeth down on the man’s wrist.
“Ye bitch!” He bit out through clenched teeth as he cupped his groin.
The noise distracted Rory, giving his attacker the opportunity to connect to his shoulder. Rory hissed, but brought his sword up and they continued sparring back and forth.
Before her attacker could regain his composure, Alana needed to stop his onslaught. Looking around, she noticed a rock and closed her fingers around it. Turning, she swung her arm with all her might, slamming it into the man’s head. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground.
Rory made quick work of finishing the third thief off.
Alana looked around, frightened that more men would come filtering out of the trees and continue the attack. Her breaths were coming in fast, the rise and fall of her chest a rapid tempo. Tears sprouted in her eyes at the realization of the dire situation they had just faced. Her hands shaking, her eyes sought Rory’s and they met his wild-eyed gaze. She noticed that he was breathing just as hard as she was.
“Ye could have been killed!” Rory growled at her.
“So could ye!” She snapped back.
“I had the situation handled.” He pushed his hands through his hair and Alana saw the cut on his shoulder through the rip in his tunic.
“Ye’re bleeding,” she said, approaching him and gently pushed the torn material to the side so she could see.
His gaze dropped to his shoulder and he shrugged. “’Tis naught. I have had much worse.”
