Page 8 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

CHAPTERFOUR

Exhaustion washed over Liam like a wave, and sleep came easily to him, even though he was out in the open, without a roof over his head. He didn't mind the hard ground beneath his feet or the chilly night breeze. He was just relieved to get some rest after a long day of travelling.

He fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep until he was awakened by a sound. He first thought it was the remnants of a long-forgotten dream, but the sound didn't stop even when he blinked his eyes open. It took him a few moments to recognize it for what it was: a woman's screams.

Liam jumped up to his feet – scanning the clearing for Muriel only to find that she was gone. He cursed under his breath and broke into a run; following the sound of the screams through the woods.

What was she thinkin’?

He wanted to be fair and give her the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to believe that something had happened, that she had awoken, gone to relieve herself, and fallen, or that she had been kidnapped — but if that were the case, he would have heard her struggle. His gut instinct told him she had attempted to flee. What else could it be after she had spent so much time pleading with him to take her to her mother rather than Lewis?

But no matter what it was, Liam wasn’t going to risk anything worse happening to her. He searched blindly in the night; tripping on rocks and tree roots as he rushed through the forest but never once stopped.

It didn’t take him long to find her. When he reached the ravine, he stood by the edge and looked at her, his eyes squinting as he tried to see how badly she was hurt. However, based on the volume of her yelling and the fact that she was on her feet, clawing her way out, he didn't think it was too bad.

“Weel, what do we have here?” he asked, his hands on his hips as he smiled at her, now that he knew she wasn’t in any immediate danger. “A runaway, perhaps?”

Liam couldn’t see Muriel’s face clearly but he did see her still her movements, and could almost feel her rage radiating toward him. “Will ye help me or nae?” she asked; sounding just as furious as Liam thought she was.

“I’ll help ye,” he said. “Even though ye gave me a fright. Where are ye hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

“Where are ye really hurt?”

“Me leg,” Muriel said. “It cannae bear weight.”

Liam reasoned that if she could push herself up a little, he could probably pull her out, but without her leg, he had little chance of reaching her.

“Dinnae fash yerself,” he said as he crouched down; getting a little closer to her. “I’ll go fetch a rope, and I’ll come get ye out. Dinnae go anywhere.”

“Och aye, I was plannin’ on leavin’ soon!” Muriel said; sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Good thing I have ye here to say goodbye to!”

Liam regarded her for a few moments; eyes narrowing. “Ye sound fine, maybe I should just let ye be.”

“Nae, wait!” Muriel was quick to say; a hint of panic lacing her words. “Please… I cannae get out on me own.”

With a sigh; Liam stood straight once more. “I willnae leave ye here, I’m nae that heartless,” he said, as he turned around and headed back to the camp; keeping track of the path he took so that he could follow it back.

Once he had the rope, he returned to Muriel and quickly tied the knots, wrapping one end around a sturdy tree nearby and the other around his waist. Then he started slowly lowering himself down the small cliff, making sure to plant his feet firmly on the side as he went.

Upon reaching Muriel, he quickly checked for blood or other visible signs of injury, but all he found were a few scrapes and bruises. “Seems like ye’ll live after all.”

“I hope that doesna disappoint ye,” Muriel said.

Despite himself, Liam laughed at her words. Muriel was witty as well as frustrating at times, insisting on him taking her home and breaking his promise to her father. It revealed a different side to her, one that didn't quite fit the image of the spoiled brat he had in his mind.

“I think that yer faither would have me head if I let ye die,” he pointed out as he wrapped an arm around her waist; holding her in a secure grip. “Hold onto me.”

Muriel did as she was told; both arms coming to wrap around him as she clung to his shoulders. “He would lose his prized pig if I died.”

Liam turned to face her, realizing only too late how close they were, so close that their noses almost touched. With a short cough, he looked straight ahead and took the rope in his free hand, planting a foot firmly on the cliff's edge.

“Ye’re more than that to him,” he said. “I dinnae ken why ye insist ye’re just a possession. It seemed to me that he loves ye a lot.”

“Aye, he loves me,” Muriel said. “Just nae as much as gold.”

Liam didn’t know what to say to that. It was clear that Muriel had made up her mind and nothing was going to change it, much like she accused her father of doing. She must have always known that she was meant to marry a wealthy man. All noble girls did and not many complained about it.