Chapter Nine

Hell, but how had she gotten stuck with the fool of Clan Grant? Stuck in a muddy pool of rain, Eli dismounted, tugging on her horse's reins to get him to move forward. He didn't like the flooded mess they stood in any more than she did.

Alaric had miraculously found a cave, and it was a bit above the ground, so at least they wouldn't be stuck in a gully full of raindrops. They headed toward the cave, and once he had his horse tethered safely, he returned to help her, taking her reins and tugging the beast into a spot that shielded the cave opening from much of the rain. He was able to let enough of the reins out to give them enough space to stick their heads inside the cave.

She grabbed her saddlebag and raced into the cave, and once Alaric had her horse tethered next to his, he did the same, though the area he'd found, even outside the cave, was much better than standing in the worst of it. Both animals turned their heads toward the cave, shielding themselves from the worst of the onslaught. She noticed him talking to his mount before giving it a kind pat on its flank. His words carried through the rain.

"We'll be back. Ye'll be fine here."

So the man did have some finer points to his personality. Kindness to animals definitely counted with her.

Inside the cave, she fell onto a boulder just inside, wringing the rain from her hair the best she could. Then she searched inside her saddlebag for a linen square to dry her face and for a dry tunic.

She stepped into the back of the cave where it was dark, tore off her wet tunic, then quickly put the fresh one on.

"Warn me next time, Eli. For Heaven's sake, ye are nearly naked."

She sighed, arranging herself so she was presentable. "Then stop looking. 'Tis only a bare back. Why would it bother ye? Do ye wish for me to turn around instead?" It wouldn't bother her at all, though she was one of the few lasses who felt that way. What did she care if a man saw her breasts? They were just two blobs meant for a bairn's mouth. As far as Eli was concerned, they only got in her way, especially when nocking an arrow.

He spun on his heel and faced out, looking through the deluge to the landscape. "I wonder where the others are."

She'd been thinking the same. "We're supposed to meet within the hour. If we stay here, will they leave without us?"

Alaric said, "If I know Dyna, she'll be hiding in a dry place. She doesnae like rainstorms either. I dinnae know Wenna and Tevis well enough to know if they would continue or if they would do the same as us. But I'm no' taking my horse out in that. Look at them. They are both turning away from the rain. It reminds me of when my sire and brother took their falls. Both of their horses slid in a wee bit of a mudslide. Look at them now. 'Tis no' safe out there."

Eli couldn't imagine what it would be like to watch someone get hurt like that. "I hope yer brother heals."

"Many thanks. So do I."

The rain didn't last long, so as soon as they thought the area was dry enough and the rain off for good, they left, heading back toward the path they were on. There was only one problem.

Where was it?

The rain had washed away all signs of their passing, and a mist had developed, swirling low enough to obscure their vision as the horses moved forward. At one point, Eli's horse decided it was not interested in going any farther. The air was sodden and clammy, the cold reaching its damp tendrils deep into her belly.

She wanted to go home. A sudden bad feeling crept up her back and her neck, making her shiver in the cooling evening air.

"The path is gone." Alaric stopped and dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to her. "Let me check the area."

For a moment, he disappeared into the mist, and she couldn't wait for him to return. He reappeared, then went in a different direction, then reappeared and chose a third direction.

When he returned, he stopped in front of her and said, "I have no idea where we are. I expected the path to be not far, but I cannae locate it. Do ye recall which way to go?"

"Nay," she said, suddenly skittish about the entire situation. "I dinnae know the area and I'm no' good with directions."

He chuckled. "I'm worse with directions. We'll remember that the next time we break into groups or pairs. We shouldnae be together. Until then, what do we do?"

"We'll guess. Which way do ye think would be the best? I'll count to three and we'll both point and see if we agree."

He crossed his arms and said, "As good as anything I could think of."

"Ready? Then one, two, three!"

Oddly enough, they both pointed in the same direction. She smirked and said, "Get yer arse in the saddle and let's go. I wish to be with the others before nightfall. No offense to ye intended."

"Understood. I prefer to be with a larger group too." He swung onto his horse and said, "Come on, Midnight Blue. Take me to Dyna and Midnight Shadow."

They headed off, staying as close together as possible. The air was as still as ever, so they had no trouble hearing each other.

She finally asked, "Why the name for yer horse?"

"No one gets it except Grant mounts. They are all descendants of Grandda's horse, Midnight, a brilliant black warhorse who carried Grandda in the Battle of Largs. My grandfather adored him, so he had the stallion stand with many of the clan's best mares. Thus, many of his foals carry his name in some way. We have Midnight Dancer, Blue, Ray, Shadow, Moon. A couple of people call them by number, but I cannae do it that way. Numbers dinnae help me in the least."

"I love numbers. Not a surprise, since we are opposites in many ways."

"But ye dinnae call yer horses by number."

"Nay, his name is Moonlight. Names suit me fine."

They rode on in silence for another half an hour before she stopped her horse, dread pooling in her belly. "Alaric, we should admit it—we're lost."

"Mayhap no'. The path could be just ahead."

"Call me a witchin' bitch if ye want, but if ye look there, ye'll see a small loch up ahead. I dinnae recall ever seeing a loch before." She pointed straight ahead, and Alaric moved his horse for a better view.

"Shite if ye arenae correct." He turned his horse to look at her. "We're lost."

"Ye hedge-born fool, I just told ye that. Do ye never listen?"

"I'm no' hedge-born and ye know it. I'd appreciate it if ye'd stop insulting me."

"I only insulted ye once."

"True, and ye insulted yerself, too. What the hell is a witchin' bitch anyway? I've no' heard that expression before."

"I made it up, arsehole."

"Now I'm an arsehole? I might just take my leave. Ye'd prefer to be alone, it sounds like to me."

"I dinnae care what ye do. Go ahead and go." Hellfire, but she'd never admit the truth of their situation. Her feelings for this brute had grown tenfold just from being stuck in the rain with him. And the last thing she wished for was to be lost by herself. He'd better not leave her here alone, or she'd chase him down and curse at him for days. She dared to peek at him, at his broad shoulders and his handsome face, even with the stubble growing. And if she were to guess, it was coming in a shade of red, unlike the blond hair on his head.

She had to stop staring at the man.

"Hell nay, I'm no' going anywhere without ye. Do ye think I'd leave ye here to fend for yerself? Do I look like a fool? If I left ye, yer grandfather would hang me by my bollocks somewhere."

"Nay he willnae. He doesnae care anything about me. Believe me, I'm naught special to him." She could still see that look of disdain in his eyes when he walked past her to go into the keep, blatantly ignoring her. What grandparent ignored their granddaughter? Only Logan Ramsay and Elisant.

"Then we have something in common, because no one will care that I'm no' returning."

"Ye are still spitting slime out. Ye are a Grant. Isnae yer mother Kyla Grant? The firstborn daughter of Alex?"

"Nay, my sire is Jamie, and my mother is Gracie."

"Och, ye are the son of the chief and no one will miss ye? Ye are full of shite, Alaric."

"The hell I am. After what I've done, no one will care if I return."

She couldn't believe what he said was true, but it felt so good to argue with the man that she couldn't stop herself. "What the hell did ye do to pish everyone off?"

He dismounted and began to pace in a circle. "'Tis my fault my brother and father got hurt. And my brother may never wake again."

"At least they liked ye before. My clan has never liked me."

"What the hell are ye speaking of? Ye are Ramsay blood. Yer grandmother would spit fire for ye."

"She might, but my grandsire wouldn't. The last time I walked past him, he didnae even speak."

He moved over to stand in front of her horse, his hands on his hips. "Ye are lying."

"Nay, I'm no'. I've always been a disappointment to him. I've never been as good an archer as my cousins. No matter how hard I try, I can never match them. And what do ye mean that ye caused the accident? Did ye push them off their horses?" She was yelling at the start, but the last part came out barely audible.

He couldn't be serious.

"Nay, I didnae push them, but we had two choices on our return to the keep. We had seed we'd purchased from our neighbor, and we could see a storm was nearly upon us, so I pushed to take the shorter route. It was riskier because it could be treacherous for the horses in the rain, but I thought we could beat the storm. Only a few of us made it down the slope before the rain started. My father's horse and my brother's horse both lost their footing. It was awful."

"I'm sorry. That must have been hard for ye to watch. I know…"

"How do ye know?"

"Because I watched my grandmother take a fall when she twisted her knee the other day. If I hadn't left the keep alone, she'd no' have followed me. It was my fault she fell."

"Och, so ye pushed her?" His grin told her he was teasing her the same way she'd teased him.

And when had Alaric Grant become so handsome? His hair was just beginning to dry from the rain, but she noticed something else about him that she had never noticed on anyone before.

His tunic melded to his muscles, and he looked quite fine.

She was losing her mind for sure.

They were lost and had no idea how to get back to the path. She was starving and there was little for them to eat.

But she had an urgent need to run her hands up Alaric's chest and then nibble on his lower lip.

She was surely turning into a witchin' bitch. A slutty one at that.