Текст книги "Tempting the Highlander"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“What’s the wheelbarrow for?” Nathan asked, pushing it over the bumpy roots of the large pine tree.

“To get him to the cabin,” Catherine explained, moving to shield Nathan’s view as she lifted the plaid to see if he had any other wounds. She dropped the cloth as if she’d been burned, bowing her head to keep Nathan from seeing her blush. Her daddy’s animal practice hadn’t prepared her for anything like this. The guy was a brute of a man and looked as if he had more testosterone than blood in his veins. In fact, that was probably all that was keeping him alive right now; his powerfully fit physical condition was compensating for losing so much blood.

“How are we going to get him in it?” Nathan asked, walking over and staring down at him. His eyes suddenly widened. “That’s a sword!” he said, reaching down to grasp it.

Catherine caught his hand. “Don’t touch it.”

Nathan stepped back and blinked at her. “What’s he doing with a sword? And he’s dressed funny.”

“I have no idea,” Catherine admitted. “Maybe there’s some sort of gathering in Pine Creek, where people dress in period clothes. You know, like when I took you and Nora to that Civil War reenactment last summer. This guy is dressed like an ancient warrior.

Maybe there’s a Scottish festival going on.”

“Here’s the towel, Mommy. What’s the socks for?”

Catherine took the towel from Nora, placed it under the plaid, and slid his belt down to hold it over the wound. “He’s in shock, sweetie, and his body temperature is dropping.

Here,” she said, handing one pair of socks to Nathan. “Put these on his feet.”

She carefully pried the sword from the man’s left hand, slipped one of the socks over his fist, then slipped the other one over his right hand.

“He’s got six toes!” Nathan blurted, stepping back. “Onboth feet!”

Catherine snapped her gaze to the man’s feet. His toes did look rather crowded. She looked up and gave Nathan a reassuring smile. “I’ve heard of people having six toes.”

“Is he a monster?” Nora whispered, hugging the pine tree again. “He’s awful hairy, and he’s real big and scary-looking.”

“He’s not a monster,” Catherine said firmly. She took the socks away from her gawking son and put them on the man’s feet herself. “Come on, help me get him into the wheelbarrow,” she said, standing up. “The sooner we get him back to the cabin and I stop that bleeding, the better we’ll all be.”

“We ain’t gonna be able to lift him,” Nathan said, grabbing the wheelbarrow.

Catherine didn’t bother correcting his speech but squatted beside the man’s head and grasped him by the shoulders. “When I lift him up, try to wedge the nose of it under his back,” she instructed. “Okay, now.”

She lifted him only a few inches, then had to ease him down and get a better grip. Good God. The man was solid dead weight.

“Again,” she said as she lifted, grunting against the strain. “Push it under him, Nathan.”

Nathan wedged the nose of the wheelbarrow under his back. Catherine pulled the man more upright, carefully eased him back against the wheelbarrow, then moved to between the handles and took hold of him again, this time under his arms.

“Okay, Nathan,” she said, panting from the exertion. “I’m going to give him a final tug while you push on his legs.”

“I don’t want to touch him,” Nathan whispered.

Catherine didn’t much care to be touching him herself. The guy was solid muscle, with not an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He was so warm to the touch, and so frighteningly male, she wasn’t sure if she was trembling from being this close to such an imposing man or if her muscles were quivering from moving his dead weight.

“Then get on the side and try to pull the wheelbarrow under him,” she suggested. “You can help, too, Nora. Get on this side, opposite Nathan, and pull when I lift him up.”

Neither child moved. “Come on, you two,” Catherine pleaded. “Don’t wimp out on me now. It’s going to take the three of us to save his life. This is our chance to be heroes.”

Just as she thought it would, the wordswimp andheroes galvanized Nathan. He bent down and grabbed the side of the wheelbarrow and looked over at Nora.

“Come on, sis,” he urged. “You can be a hero, too.”

Not looking all that convinced, the six-year-old hesitantly took hold of the rusty metal and looked at Catherine.

Catherine nodded. “Okay. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!” she growled, pulling on the man with all her might.

He rose only about six inches, but it was enough for Nathan and Nora to slide the wheelbarrow under his backside.

“We did it!” Catherine cried, grabbing the handles and pulling them down.

The wheelbarrow dropped level with a jarring thud, and both Catherine and Nathan scrambled to stop it from tipping sideways. Nora scrambled back to her pine tree.

“You’re both my heroes,” Catherine whispered. “Now we just have to get him to the cabin without bypassing it and rolling him all the way down the mountain.”

Her plan was easier said than done. They nearly lost him out of the wheelbarrow more than once and almost ran him into the side of the cabin. Getting him through the narrow door was even more of a challenge, but they finally wheeled him up to the bed and rolled him into it. All three of them were panting by the time they finished.

“Are we a great team or what?” Catherine said, tightly hugging her two kids. “Good job, guys. Nathan, take the bucket and the large pot, and get some water from the spring.

Nora, you carry in what’s left of the wood from the pile outside.” She patted both of them on the backside to get them moving. “We have to hurry,” she said, going over to her suitcase and rummaging through it, looking for her sewing kit. “I have to get him cleaned up, warmed up, and sewn up.”

Nathan stopped by the door. “And then what?” he asked.

Catherine looked up from her suitcase. “And then… I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess the three of us head down the mountain and tell someone he’s up here.”

Both children appeared to like that plan and hurried to do their chores. Catherine set her sewing kit by the bed, lit the last of their candles, and turned and stared down at the man.

He looked vaguely familiar.

She might have seen him in Dolan’s Outfitter Store when she’d been buying the hats and mittens, or they might have passed on the street.

She suddenly stepped back. No, it couldn’t be him. But the more she studied the giant, taking in his size and build and auburn hair, the more she realized who he was.

Well, darn it to hell. Of all the blasted bad luck she’d had lately, this was the prize. The man she’d stolen from—and had outrun twice—was bleeding all over her bed.

Chapter Six

Robbie came awakewith enough presence of mind to keep his eyes closed. He held himself perfectly still and listened to the hushed conversation of at least three people while he considered his situation.

He was warm, stiff with pain, and apparently alive. Those were the pluses. He didn’t know which time period he was in, couldn’t decide how badly he was hurt, and for some reason, he couldn’t move his hands.

The good seemed to outweigh the bad, but the conversation was proving a bit hard to grasp—something about a pretty sword, a Sasquatch, a dead car, a job, sewing, and cookies.

It was the mention of the Sasquatch and car that made Robbie think he was back in the twenty-first century.

But apretty sword?

That remark had come from a young girl.

He could make out the soft voice of a woman, her tone sometimes coddling, sometimes instructing, and often-times trying to restrain laughter. He also heard a young boy whispering—he was the one who had called the man in the bed a Sasquatch.

Catherine Daniels, and Nathan and Nora.

Robbie stifled the urge to shout with joy.

He didn’t have to find his little thief—she’d found him!

None of which explained why he couldn’t move his hands.

Robbie cracked open his eyes and looked through his lashes, squinting at the candlelit scene. Catherine Daniels was sitting beside the woodstove, facing her two children sitting at the table. The boy was dividing his attention between his mother and the sword standing in the corner by the door. The girl was watching Catherine sew his MacKeage plaid as if that needle and thread were the most exciting thing since sliced bread.

“Where will we sleep tonight?” Nathan asked softly, darting a frown at the bed Robbie was in, then back at his mother.

“We’ll pile our jackets and some blankets on the floor by the stove,” Catherine told him, not taking her eyes off her work.

“I thought we was going to tell somebody he was here,” Nora whispered, scooting off her chair and moving closer to inspect her mother’s sewing.

Catherine finally looked up. “We’ll have to wait until morning.” She glanced at Robbie, then back at her children. “I don’t dare leave him alone. Not until he wakes up.”

“What if he don’t wake up?” Nora asked.

“If he’s not awake by morning, I’ll stash you guys someplace safe and run down the mountain.”

This time, Robbie had to stifle a snort. That should take the lady only half an hour, the way she ran.

The lure of Robbie’s sword finally defeated Nathan, and the boy slid off his chair and sidled over to the corner.

“Stay away from that,” Catherine said. “It’s quite heavy and the edges are sharp.”

And bloody,Robbie wanted to add. He assumed she’d noticed that fact when she brought it in and hoped she thought it was his blood on the blade. It wouldn’t do to have Catherine Daniels thinking he was in the habit of maiming people. Not with what he had planned for her.

“Could I have something to drink?” he asked.

Three pairs of startled eyes rounded on him. Nora squeaked and moved to the other side of her mother. Nathan stepped forward as if to defend them but changed his mind at the last minute and grasped Nora by the shoulders.

Catherine Daniels, once she got over her surprise, broke into a beautiful smile. “You’re awake,” she said, standing up and setting her sewing on the table.

She picked up a cup and brought it over to him. Robbie went to reach for it—and finally realized why he couldn’t move his hands. Both wrists were bound to the side rails of the bed. He shot his gaze to Catherine.

Her smile disappeared. “I… ah… we don’t know you,” she explained, canting her chin defensively.

Robbie relaxed into the pillow and gave her a crooked grin. “You not only run like the wind, Catherine, but you’re smart as well.”

Her face paled. “You know who I am?”

“You left your backpack hanging on a bush along the road near my house,” he told her, his smile widening when her eyes rounded. “That drink?” he asked, nodding at the cup in her hand.

“Oh.” She leaned down, lifted the back of his head, and held the cup to his lips.

An ice-cold beer couldn’t have tasted better. Robbie drank every drop of water but for the ones that ran down his chin. “Thank you,” he said with a sigh as she lowered his head. “What time is it?”

“Almost five in the evening.”

“What day?”

“Ah… ” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t really know. I haven’t kept track of the days.”

“How long have I been out, then?”

“We found you this morning, up behind the cabin.”

“So this is Thursday?”

“I really don’t know.”

Robbie decided to ask her something she did know. “What condition am I in?” he asked, lifting his head to look down his body. All he saw was an old blanket covering him, but the pain in his right side told him that eight-hundred-year-old wounds still hurt like hell the next day.

“You have a deep gash just above your right hip,” Catherine said, setting the empty cup on the stool beside the bed. She waved her hand at his torso. “And another cut on your shoulder. And you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“But the bleeding has stopped?”

She nodded. “I’ve sewn up both wounds. And I washed your smaller cuts.” She hesitantly leaned over and set her delicate hand on his forehead, then quickly pulled back. “You don’t have a fever,” she said, her face tinged pink. “But you need to see a doctor as soon as possible.”

Robbie was still trying to get over the fact that she’d taken a needle to him. “Sewing flesh is messy work,” he said, lifting one brow. “And should involve at least a passing knowledge of human anatomy.”

Catherine Daniels’s smile returned. “People aren’t so different from horses and cattle.”

Robbie lifted his other brow.

“My dad was a veterinarian,” she told him. “And I did rounds with him every summer through high school. I had some silk thread in my sewing kit, but the doctor will probably redo the sutures. I just wanted to stop the bleeding and close you up to lessen the chance of infection.”

“And I thank you for that, Catherine,” Robbie said with a slight nod. He looked toward her children standing beside the woodstove, their eyes huge and apprehensive, then back at her. “How did I get from behind the cabin to here?”

“In a wheelbarrow,” she told him. “These are my children, Nathan and Nora,” she added, turning and waving them forward. “Nathan is eight, and Nora is six.” She took hold of their shoulders once they approached and faced him again. “They helped get you in here.”

Robbie nodded to them. “Thank you,” he said.

“Do you have a name?” Catherine asked.

“Robbie MacBain. I live at the bottom of this ridge, in the white farmhouse with the chicken coop that sits next to the large barn. I believe you’re familiar with the place?”

Catherine’s face colored with another beautiful blush.

Robbie thought about how he was going to get down off this mountain and how he could persuade Catherine Daniels to come with him.

“There’s probably people out looking for me, including four teenage boys who are likely starving to death by now,” he said, hoping to ease her into the fact that he had four boys at home. “Any suggestions on how I let them know I’m okay?”

“Mom can run really fast,” Nathan interjected. “She can tell them you’re here.”

“But it’s dark out,” Catherine said quickly, squeezing her son’s shoulder. “And I won’t leave my children. I’ll go get help in the morning.”

“Or you could help me walk down tonight,” Robbie offered.

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t make it a mile. And you’ll probably start bleeding again.”

“I’ll make it. Just find me a stick to lean on.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that it’s pitch black outside. And the wind’s come up, and heavy clouds moved in this afternoon. There must be a storm coming.”

Robbie went silent and stared at her, thinking that he already knew quite a lot about Catherine Daniels. Such as the fact that she was a bit stubborn and a mite bossy. He also knew she could outrun him, was bold enough to steal his truck, and smart enough to tie him to the bed for her own protection. She was willing to save the life of a complete stranger, resourceful enough to work with what she had, and desperate enough to drag her children thousands of miles across the country. She was perfect.

“Then how about you untie me and at least help me get to the outhouse?” he asked.

Nora scrambled from under her mother’s arm, ran to the opposite corner of the cabin, and pressed her little body against the wall.

“That’s not going to happen, Mr. MacBain,” Catherine said, urging her son over to the woodstove and waving at Nora to join him. “We’ll have to devise another means.”

Robbie chuckled. “It’s not like I’m a threat to you or your children, Catherine. You say I can barely walk, so I can’t hurt anyone but myself. So let’s avoid both of us being embarrassed.”

Her blush kicked up three notches. She folded her arms under her breasts and stared at him, obviously trying to decide what to do. She suddenly turned to Nathan.

“Go out and find two big sticks,” she told him.

“Mom, no!” Nathan hissed. “He’s too big.”

“But he’s in no shape to cause trouble,” she assured him. “Now go,” she repeated, nudging him toward the door. “Nora, you stand outside by the woodpile. I’ll leave the door cracked so you won’t be scared.”

Apparently deciding outside was less scary than inside, Nora ran after her brother.

Catherine walked over to Robbie.

“You aren’t wearing anything, Mr. MacBain,” she whispered. “I need to wrap the blanket around you.”

“Where’s my plaid?”

“Your plaid? It… it’s right here,” she said, going to the table and picking up his MacBain plaid. “The one you were wearing is bloody and torn. You can use this other one.”

“Here’s the sticks, Mom,” Nathan said, walking inside with two large sticks almost as tall as he was.

“Set one of them by the bed,” she told him. “And keep the other one with you.” She turned the boy to face her. “I want you to walk beside us to the outhouse, and if Mr.

MacBain tries anything, you smack him as hard as you can on his right side,” she instructed, turning to give Robbie a warning glare.

“You want me to hit him?” Nathan whispered, stepping back. “But that will make him mad.”

Catherine shook her head. “He’ll drop like a stone, Nathan. But only hit him if I say so, understand?” She waited until he nodded. “Go stand with your sister, and leave the door cracked.”

She watched him leave and turned back to Robbie.

Robbie grinned. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

“I don’t care to be defenseless, Mr. MacBain,” she said, working free the knot on his right wrist.

“Since you’re about to help me get dressed, do you think you can start calling me Robbie?” he asked, keeping his arm at his side once she freed his wrist.

She walked around the bed and undid the other knot, saying nothing. Once she freed him completely, Robbie slowly lifted his arms and flexed his shoulders.

“Ahhhh,” he rumbled. “I was beginning to stiffen up.”

“You’re a lucky man,” she said, staring at him with large doe eyes. “If that gash on your side had been a little deeper or three inches higher, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. How did you get hurt?”

Robbie slowly sat up, clutching his throbbing side with his hand. “I tripped and fell on my sword,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

“What were you doing up here, dressed like that and carrying a sword?”

“I was practicing for the festival this summer,” he told her, breathing tightly against the pain. He glanced up and caught her staring at his bare chest. “The competition can get fierce, and I usually start training months ahead. I… ah… I must have rolled quite a ways, to be banged up like I am.”

Her face nearly crimson, she finally lifted her gaze from his chest. “You’re lucky you didn’t slice your head off.”

“Aye, I suppose I am. What are you doing here, Catherine?”

She looked away and picked up the MacBain plaid. “My car broke down on the other side of the mountain.”

Robbie took hold of the cloth to stop her from wrapping it over his shoulders. “There’s nothing but wilderness on the other side of this mountain. Why were you over there?”

“I was lost. I thought the dirt road was a shortcut to Caribou.” She shrugged and tried covering his chest with the plaid again, but this time Robbie stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

Catherine Daniels exploded. She jerked free and punched him on the shoulder, putting all of her weight behind it. Robbie let himself fall back with a gasp of pain, and lay perfectly still, watching her. She was backed up against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not moving. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Nathan burst into the cabin, his stick raised to strike. Catherine rushed around the bed to stop him. “It’s okay, honey,” she said calmly. “Mr. MacBain just hurt himself trying to get up.”

Nora ran into the cabin with a blood-curdling scream. “Something’s out there!” she shouted. “Coming up the hill!”

Catherine took the stick from Nathan and headed outside, only to stop when she realized she was leaving her children with a stranger who was no longer tied up.

“Come stand by the door,” she told them, pulling them outside behind her.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Robbie rolled off the bed and stood up. He quickly wrapped the plaid around himself, found his belt hanging over a chair, and cinched it around his waist. He headed out the door behind them, grabbing his sword on the way.

Four mounted shadows moved into the clearing and stopped just inside the circle of light coming from the cabin. Robbie immediately relaxed, set his sword against the log wall, and leaned on the door casing to ease the throbbing in his side.

“Is that you, boss?” Cody asked, grinning at Robbie. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that skirt.”

“It’s okay, Catherine,” Robbie assured her. “These fine young gentlemen are here to rescue us.”

Catherine slowly lowered her stick but raised it again when Gunter moved his horse closer. She backed up, herding her children behind her until they were nearly around the corner of the cabin.

Gunter stopped and looked from Robbie to the three frightened Danielses, then back at Robbie. “Do you need rescuing?”

“How did you know where to look for me?” Robbie asked.

“That crazy old priest was sitting on the porch when we got home from school,” Gunter explained, dismounting and walking forward. “Your horse was tied to the rail. He said we should try looking for you on West Shoulder Ridge, since he’d already searched the entire summit.”

Gunter stepped closer and lowered his voice. “He wouldn’t let us tell anyone you were missing. Not even your father. But he wouldn’t say why.”

Robbie nodded. “It’s just as well you didn’t. There’s no need to worry them. I—ah—I had a little accident.”

Gunter let his gaze scan down Robbie’s body, then looked back up at him. “Nice duds,”

he drawled. “Who’s the lady with the kids? Our egg thief?”

Robbie nodded. “And if we play our cards right,” he said quietly, so Catherine wouldn’t hear him, “she could be our new housekeeper.”

Gunter turned to Catherine, and Robbie watched in amazement as the young man shot her a smile warm enough to toast bread. “Ma’am?” he said, stepping toward her, his hands tucked behind his back in an unthreatening gesture. “It’s mighty cold outside.

Why don’t you bring your children out of this wind while we decide what to do?”

Robbie couldn’t quit gawking. Was that really Gunter? Hell, the kid was all but oozing charm. Robbie looked at the other boys. They were as dumbfounded as he was.

“We have about three hours before the storm hits,” Gunter continued, stepping aside for her to pass. “Just long enough to get you and your children off this mountain.”

Robbie hobbled out of the way so she could enter the cabin, and made his way to one of the chairs and gingerly sat down.

The other three boys quickly dismounted and crowded into the doorway. Catherine took her two children to the woodstove, placing it and herself between them and the men. Robbie noticed she was still holding her stick.

“Catherine,” he said, drawing her attention. “You can’t stay up here. They were predicting over a foot of snow when I left yesterday.”

Her large, worried brown eyes scanned the five of them, then returned to his. “Can… can you take us to town?” she asked. “To a motel or something?”

“We can do better than that,” Gunter interjected. “We have a ton of room at home, a well-stocked pantry, and a fireplace to curl up in front of.”

She shook her head. “I think we should go to a motel.”

“Will you trust your children with the boys so I can talk to you alone?” Robbie asked.

“They’ll take them outside, and we’ll leave the door open so you can see them.”

She tightened her grip on her stick.

“I found the papers in your backpack,” Robbie quietly said.

Stiffly, her face pale with trepidation, Catherine slowly led her children outside. Cody and Peter and Rick moved out of her way.

“Try to make friends with the kids,” Robbie whispered to Gunter as he walked by.

“They’re a big part of the solution to our problem.”

Gunter nodded, smiled at Catherine as she came back in, and immediately squatted down to Nora’s level once he was outside.

“Are you running from your ex-husband?” Robbie asked.

She stood by the woodstove, facing him, and nodded.

“What was he in jail for?”

“Domestic abuse,” she said succinctly.

But it was enough for Robbie to get a much clearer picture. And it also explained why she’d exploded when he had gripped her wrist. “Are you sure he’s after you, or did you run when you got the letter because you only thought he might be?”

“He nearly caught us in Iowa,” she said softly.

Robbie nodded. “Okay,” he said just as softly. “What if I can help you? You have no transportation, not much money, and no place to live. I have a large house, four hungry boys, and a pressing need for a housekeeper.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re offering me a job?”

“I am. That is, if you can cook.”

She nodded, then fell silent, watching her children out the door. Robbie followed her gaze and saw Gunter, now sitting on the ground, showing Nora the small, shiny rock he always carried in his pocket. Rick was showing his jackknife to Nathan.

“It’s an all-male household, Catherine,” Robbie continued. “Will that be a problem for you?”

“They’re too old to be your sons,” she said, still watching out the door. She turned her gaze to his. “Who are they?”

“The state of Maine considers them foster kids,” he told her, shrugging. “But I prefer to think of them as young men who only need a nudge in the right direction. Where were you headed when your car broke down? Do you have family in Maine?”

“No. I was headed to the last place I thought Ron would look for me.”

“Would he look for you in Pine Creek?”

“No. He’d think I’d go to a large city. I’m hoping he’s looking in Chicago right now.”

Robbie nodded. “Would you be comfortable living and working in an all-male household?” he asked again. “The boys can be a handful sometimes, but they’re basically good kids.”

“You have room for the three of us?” she asked, still not answering his question.

“Nathan and Nora and I could have our own bedroom?”

“There’s two spare bedrooms,” he told her. “Ah… I feel it’s only right to warn you that we’ve lost three housekeepers in the last eight months. Do you have a sense of humor, Catherine?”

She finally gave him a small, hesitant smile. “Teenagers don’t scare me.”

“But I do.”

“Yes.”

“I’m the oldest of four siblings,” he told her. “My parents own a Christmas tree farm about two miles away. My sister just had a baby and lives in Greenville, and my brother and little sister are away at college. I have four aunts and uncles nearby and a slew of cousins. I don’t smoke or have more than the occasional drink, and I don’t need to bully a woman to feel like a man.”

Her smile widened the tiniest bit. “It’s usually the employer who asks for references.”

“These are unusual circumstances. I really am desperate for a housekeeper, Catherine.”

Robbie decided it was time to close the deal. “I’ll pay you six hundred dollars a week, plus room and board for the three of you.”

Her smile disappeared and was replaced with disbelief. Catherine looked back outside at the four boys talking to her children. “They’re hellions, aren’t they?” she whispered.

“On their best days,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But they only want direction. That’s my job,” he said when she looked at him again. “Your job is to keep them fed and my house relatively clean. Catherine,” he said, slowly standing up but making sure he kept his distance from her. “My MacBain word of honor, you need not fear me. How about we give you a week to test the waters? If you’re uncomfortable, or if you simply decide you don’t want the job for whatever reason, you can move on. But anything’s got to be better than what you have now.”

She looked at her children and was silent for some time, then took a deep breath and looked back at him. “Okay, Mr. MacBain,” she said. “I accept your offer.”

Robbie made sure she didn’t see his relief—or his triumph.

“For a one-week trial,” she clarified before he could finish rejoicing. “And you pay me in cash.”

“Gunter,” Robbie called out the door, deciding it was time to get this show on the road before she changed her mind. “Bring the kids inside so they can pack their things.” He looked at Catherine. “Anything that can’t be tied to a horse can be gotten later.”

“I only have two suitcases. But there’s more stuff still in my car on the other side of the mountain.”

“We’ll get your car once the storm is over.”

Nathan and Nora rushed in with Gunter and ran up to their mother. She squatted down and pulled both of them to face her. “We’re going to go stay with Mr. MacBain and the boys,” she told them. “They need a housekeeper.”

“We’re going to live with them?” Nathan asked, darting an uncertain look at Robbie.

“Mom,” he whispered. “I don’t think we should do that.”

She gave both children a hug. “It’ll be okay,” she assured them. “If we don’t like it, we can move on after a week.”

Robbie picked up his MacKeage plaid from the table and started to wrap it over his MacBain plaid.

“Your clothes were tied to your saddle,” Gunter said, heading back outside. “We brought your horse with us.”

With only a whisper, Catherine set her kids to gathering up their things. She placed her sewing kit into the larger of the two suitcases, and Rick came over and carried it out to the horses the minute she’d snapped it shut. In no time, the boys had everything tied to the saddles, the four of them obviously eager to get their new housekeeper home and installed in the kitchen.

Gunter handed Robbie his clothes and boots, then left Robbie alone to get dressed while he got everyone settled on horseback.

In less than half an hour after the boys’ arrival, the eight of them were headed down the mountain. Catherine was mounted behind Cody, Nathan behind Rick, and Nora, bless her brave little heart, was quietly riding in front of Gunter.

It had taken Robbie a full minute—and the help of an old stump—to climb onto his own horse. His side felt as if it were on fire, and he was weak as a babe from the loss of blood. But he’d taken the time to slide his sword under the cabin floor when no one was looking, deciding he could pick it up later, before his next exciting adventure for Daar.

The old priest would probably consider his journey back to thirteenth-century Scotland a complete disaster, but Robbie preferred to look on the bright side—he was going home with a new housekeeper. And he was alive and able to fight another day.