Page 9 of Highland Steel

Logan felt the same way but didn’t want to admit it, since he kind of liked the girl. “Why would she lie?” asked Logan, motioning for a server to ladle him a bowl of soup. The serving girl did it, and walked away. Logan looked down into the bowl. It was basically a bowl of broth with a few onions and carrots floating on the top. Now he wished his wolf hadn’t stolen the chicken from the pot after all.

“I’m no’ sure, but ye’d better find out if we’re right,” said Hawke, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because, I agree with my great-grandda. These Sassenachs are only goin’ to bring us trouble.”

“Do ye think since Drummond killed off his last Sassenach wife that he is really betrothed to Rhoswen?” asked Caleb.

“I wouldna put it past him. And he does seem to like the Sassenachs for some reason,” answered Logan, stirring the soup with his spoon and watching the steam rise up. “Or mayhap he just likes killin’ them.”

“What’s goin’ to happen to them if her faither dies?” asked Ethan.

“If that happens, we’ll have to bring them back with us to the MacKeefe camp until we can figure out what to do with them,” said Logan, blowing on the hot liquid and taking a sip of the soup. “Blethers, this is bland!” He made a face and held the spoon in the air.

“Bring them to the MacKeefe camp?” squawked Caleb. “Are ye addled? We canna bring them back with us.”

“I agree,” Ethan joined in. “Whoever is after them is goin’ to follow us home. We have families and children back at camp and I dinna want them endangered because of a few doitit English who should have stayed on their side of the border.”

“Well, I canna just send them on their merry way, and let her marry that schemin’ bastard, Ranulph Drummond.” Logan blew on the hot soup once again.

“Why no’?” asked Caleb. “She is nothin’ to us. Why should we care who she marries?”

Logan felt sick to his stomach to think of Rhoswen as Ranulph Drummond’s wife. She didn’t deserve someone like him. She needed to be married to an English knight or earl back in England. The last place she should be is in the Highlands. If she stayed here much longer, she was only going to end up dead. He lifted the spoon of hot broth and inspected it. “The girl’s da is of no use to them and we all ken that they will all be dead before they even get to the Highlands if they dinna have someone to protect them.”

“I agree,” said Rhoswen, overhearing his last words as she walked up behind them. “And that is why I’d like to hire you to escort us to Clan Drummond in the Highlands.”

Logan had been ready to put the spoon in his mouth and jerked back in surprise, burning his lip. He dropped the spoon on the counter, his tongue darting out to touch his lip. “Nay, I canna do that.”

“Why not?” asked the girl. “I saw that wolf of yours and he looks pretty vicious. And you look like you know how to handle a sword. Are you saying you’re not capable of protecting us?”

Logan saw his friends trying not to laugh.

“Well, aye, I could protect ye, but –”

“Ye did say ye couldna let them go alone,” Caleb reminded them.

“I can’t pay you right now, since I only have a little money and need to pay the man in the kitchen for helping my father. But I’m sure my betrothed will be happy to compensate you when you deliver me to him unharmed,” Rhoswen continued.

“Och, I’m sure,” said Logan, knowing the kind of compensation he’d get from Drummond would probably be a knife in the back. He wanted nothing to do with that clan. The last encounter he’d had with Ranulph Drummond was not a formidable occasion. Too many people ended up dying. “Listen, my lady, I dinna think I am the man for the job.”

“Then what about one of you?” Rhoswen looked from one of Logan’s friends to the next. None of them made eye contact with her, and neither did they say a word.

The door to the kitchen banged open and Callum stuck his head out. “Logan, get in here, right away.”

“What is it?” asked Rhoswen. “Is it my father?” She took off at a sprint toward the kitchen. Logan got up and ran after her, passing her and getting to the door first with his long strides.

“Dinna let her in here,” Callum warned him in a low voice. “It’s no place for a lady. The bluidy man isna goin’ to make it and I’m sure he’s goin’ to die on my bread table. I assure ye, it isna a pretty sight.”

“Let me in. I have to see my father.” Rhoswen pushed her way in between them and entered the kitchen before Logan could stop her. She ran up to the table and all but threw herself atop her dying father.

Cuddy wiped the blood from his hands with a towel, looking at Logan and shaking his head. “I did all I could,” he mumbled, and turned away.

“Papa!” Rhoswen almost screamed aloud when she saw all the blood surrounding her father. He had stitches, and she was sure Cuddy did what he could to help him. But it looked like he was too late. Her father’s face was pale and he could barely keep his eyes open. “Papa, don’t die,” she begged him, grasping his hand in hers. If he died, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

“Rhoswen . . . come . . . closer,” he told her. Rhoswen bent over and placed her ear by his mouth.

“What is it, Papa? What do you want to tell me?” she asked, barely able to hear him.

“Kill . . . Ranulph Drummond. Do it . . . for me.”

She thought she’d misheard him at first, and blinked, looking at him in question. “What did you say?” she asked, leaning even closer. Their plan was that they’d trade the king’s sword to the Drummonds for her late sister’s child. Her sister, Ailsa, was married to Ranulph Drummond in an alliance. However, she died six months ago birthing the man’s baby. Rhoswen thought they were on a rescue mission to bring her nephew home, having convinced Drummond to give them the baby. Her father never mentioned he planned on killing the man afterwards.