Wicked Highland Ways Read online

  Which left Brenda with cheeks that stung with another blush.

  Ye do miss Bothan…

  The man knew too much about stirring her passion. Brenda left the kitchen, intent on cooling her emotions or at least in search of enough work to keep her busy until she was tired enough to fall into bed and sleep through the night.

  Ye’ll still notice how much ye want Bothan there beside ye…

  Another truth. Brenda didn’t have to argue with herself when she was alone. Spring was starting to give way to summer, which meant there was work aplenty. As soon as dawn broke, it was time to rise and fight to bring in the best harvest possible. From the doorway of the tower, she could see the fields. New plants were rising from the recently planted fields. The longer days of sunlight nurtured the young plants.

  She moved down the steps and out of the fenced yard. She’d finally caught the books up enough to indulge in some exploring.

  Getting to know yer new home?

  So what if she was? Brenda scoffed at herself. The Gunns were a good clan. She found the lack of pomp and ceremony refreshing. Even now, there were no retainers trailing her. On Grant land, the moment she stepped beyond the castle, someone would have taken after her and stuck to her until she returned.

  But Gunn land was remote enough that the retainers could simply look up and note her motions. The men were busy building a section of the fence to keep the hens and goats safe. If Bothan drove the wolves far enough away, by the time the pack made it back, they wouldn’t find it so easy to claim a meal.

  Some might call it a simple life, but Brenda would have used the word wholesome to describe Bothan’s land.

  Brenda climbed onto the riverbank to see what was beyond the river. It served as a natural defense for the towers, having cut a deep bank. The Gunns had built up a section of it where the wheel was operating. A faint sound came from upriver. Brenda looked up, but a bend in the course of the waterway prevented her from seeing what was making the sound.

  Brenda followed the sound, turning the bend and leaving the mill behind. The sound was louder now, a sniffling and then more weeping. The river became wider here, spreading out to be only a couple of feet deep. A young girl stood on the far side of the bank, looking beyond where Brenda could see as she wept.

  “Here now.” Brenda made certain her voice was soft. “What has ye crying on such a fine morning?”

  The child rubbed some of the tears with a grubby fist and lifted her face. Her eyes were still filled with water, but she looked to Brenda with hope in her gaze. She must have been about ten winters, but Brenda doubted she was any older. Her limbs were thin and long, while her eyes were large in her face. When she opened her mouth to speak, two large adult-sized front teeth were there, but the two on either side were missing.

  “I failed,” she said pitifully. “And now…me brother and I will starve next winter for I fell asleep and forgot to mind me duty.”

  More tears spilled from her little eyes. Brenda crossed to where the girl stood, pulled the linen square from her belt where she’d tucked it, and used the fabric to clean the tears from the girl’s face.

  “Why don’t ye explain the situation to me?” Brenda suggested with a smile. “And let us see if we can’t find a solution. What was yer duty?”

  The girl hesitated in that way children often tried to avoid voicing what they’d done when they knew it was wrong. Brenda nodded at her encouragingly.

  “I can’t see as how one little nap on such a fine spring day could mean starvation for two people,” Brenda offered hopefully.

  “I was told to mind the new calf,” the child explained. “To take her out to graze because me father was going to milk her mother for the first time.”

  “I see.” Brenda understood very well. When a calf was old enough, a family would begin to harvest a portion of the milk for their use while teaching the calf to graze on the abundant new spring grass. The snow had given way to land that was lush and green as the days became longer.

  “She was doing very well on her own,” the child continued. “So well, I fell asleep, and when I woke up…I heard her crying…and she is lost…”

  Fresh tears fell from the child’s eyes.

  “Here now,” Brenda softly admonished the child. “Crying solves naught. Dry yer eyes, and let us attempt to find the calf.”

  “I know where she is,” the child declared before she wiped her nose and eyes across her sleeve. She pointed across what appeared to be an expanse of green meadow.

  At least that was what a young girl might think. Brenda had learned through experience that the land was never to be trusted. When the sun shone bright and hot as it was now, the ice in the mountains above them melted. The water would cascade down on its way to the ocean, cutting into the land like a hot knife. Just because there had never been a river in one place didn’t mean there might not be one there when the water came down in torrents and went where it wanted.

  “Show me.” Brenda took the child by the hand.

  The girl drew in a deep breath and hiccupped once before gathering her composure. A look of determination replaced the forlorn expression before she took off across the meadow. The ground was wet and squishy beneath Brenda’s feet, making her wary.

  They heard the calf long before they came upon it, desperate calls from the creature for its mother. The high-pitched sound only a baby made as she hoped to be rescued by the parent who had seen to all of its needs so far in life.

  “Just up here.” The girl encouraged Brenda to move faster.

  Brenda pulled the child to a stop. Her boot had sunk three inches into the ground, the wet earth sucking on her foot. Ahead, she spotted the calf. It was struggling to pull its front hooves from the mire. Dark mud coated its forelegs all the way past its knobby knees.

  “It’s stuck in a bog,” Brenda warned the child. “If we go any farther, we’ll be caught as well.”

  The girl looked up at Brenda, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “Me brother and I will starve without the calf.”

  “No more tears,” Brenda told her firmly. “If ye are old enough to be charged with minding the calf, well, ye need to be thinking yer way through this, no’ weeping in despair.”

  The girl snapped her mouth shut and drew her arm across her face once again. When she lowered her arm, there was a fresh look of determination on her young face.

  “Good,” Brenda praised her. “Now let us see what there is about for us to use.”

  The area was green with grass, but when Brenda tested around where the calf was, the land gave way.

  “Rocks,” Brenda said after a time of searching for a different direction to approach where the calf was stuck. “Let’s go back to the river and bring back some rocks to fill in this bog.”

  The girl’s lips split in a smile before she turned and ran back the way they’d come. She reached the riverbank first and knelt down to fill her hands with gravel.

  Brenda stopped her from rushing back to the bog. “If we take only handfuls, it will take all day and night.” Brenda handed the girl the linen square. “Fill that.”

  “A very fine idea! We shall have her free in no time,” the girl declared. She bent her young knees and spread the cloth wide before digging into the gravel and scooping it by handfuls onto the fabric.

  Brenda gave a little sigh before she unlaced the top of her overdress and shrugged out of it. She forbade herself to worry about getting it dirty. The sun was bright, and she hoped her other dress was washed and drying. She began to scoop up gravel and pile it in the center of her spread-out dress.

  “Oh yes!” the child exclaimed with a clap of her dirty hands. “We’ll have the calf free before me brother comes in from the field.”

  The child’s enthusiasm kept Brenda working through the afternoon. The calf seemed to sense rescue was at hand, for it stopped calling for its mother as Bre
nda and the girl carried load after load of gravel and dirt to the bog. The wet ground sucked it up, sending them back to the river’s edge for more. But at last, as the sun was setting, the calf managed to find solid ground.

  Brenda tested the edge of the bog and found it firm enough. She ventured closer to the stranded animal as the calf struggled to climb out. But it was weak from the hours of fighting to escape. Its hind legs were still a foot into the dark mud. The calf looked at Brenda, its large eyes pitiful. Brenda took another step, felt the mud grip her up past her ankle.

  Just a little bit farther…

  Another step, and Brenda was able to throw her dress over the calf. Stretching out, Brenda reached beneath the animal and caught a handful of the wool. Yanking hard, Brenda pulled it beneath the calf and gripped both ends of her dress.

  “Well done!” The girl clapped her filthy hands together as she jumped up and down. “Pull her out!”

  “Stay there,” Brenda warned her sternly. She was knee-deep in mud that felt like it had a grip on her. It was well over the tops of her boots now, the cold muck filling them.

  Brenda focused on the task at hand as she reminded herself there was a fine bathhouse waiting back at the tower for her.

  “Come on now,” Brenda ordered the calf. “Together…”

  Brenda pulled, straining with every last bit of strength she had. The animal felt like a dead weight for seconds that felt like hours. Pain snaked through Brenda’s belly and shoulders as she forced herself to pull harder. She was gritting her teeth as the animal suddenly seemed to catch on to what it needed to do in order to free itself. The calf snorted and tried to lift one leg from the mud.

  It felt like a battle that couldn’t be won. The calf was struggling as Brenda strained to pull her free. The bog held her, refusing to give up its prize.

  And then, suddenly, the mud gave way with a sucking sound. Brenda went tumbling backward as the calf came forward a whole foot. The animal let out a cry before it was desperately trying to get its legs unfolded. This time, the creature found stable ground and stood before leaping forward in a frantic escape.

  Brenda threw her arms up to shield her face as the calf ran right over her, trampling her in its panic to be free. When Brenda lowered her arms, she watched as the girl ran after the calf. Up in the distance, a boy was waving his arms as a large cow bellowed long and low.

  “That’s gratitude for ye.”

  Brenda jerked her head around. Bothan was approaching where she lay in the mud. He looked up to where the calf was just reaching its mother, going beneath the belly of the creature in search of her udders and a warm meal.

  “No’ even a lick for ye,” Bothan declared as he looked down to where Brenda lay in the mud.

  She suddenly felt filthy. He contemplated her for a long moment before he took a couple of steps and braced his feet wide. Reaching down, he caught her by her upper arms and pulled her to her feet.

  “I could have managed,” Brenda said as she dragged her hands down her arms and flung glops of dark, wet mud to the ground.

  “I did promise ye I would track ye down if ye wandered,” Bothan said as he grabbed her overdress from where it lay in the mud. It was a dark mess of dirt and smelly water now.

  Brenda propped her hands on her hips. “Do nae make it sound like I’ve been doing something I should no’ have been.”

  Bothan tilted his head to one side and swept her from head to toe with his blue eyes. “Ye appear to have been doing something completely…filthy…sure enough, lass!”

  Brenda made a sound under her breath. She scooped up some more mud from where it clung to her arm and flicked it at him. The mud stuck to him, making a dark spot on the front of his shirt.

  Bothan looked at it before his grin became wider. “Just like the day I met ye, Brenda, as the good wives told me if I venture too close to ye, I’ll be dragged into yer debauchery and lust!”

  “As if ye’d be so fortunate!” she snapped at him before reaching down to scoop up a handful of muck.

  Bothan didn’t give her time to lift her hand and launch it at him. He reached for her, intending to trap her against him with a hard embrace.

  But he’d failed to realize how strong a grip the bog had on his feet. He stumbled when it took longer for him to pull his feet from the bog than he’d anticipated. He still caught her, but he was falling forward. She gasped and clutched at him. He managed to turn as they plummeted to the ground, the mud splattering all along their bodies and gripping them.

  Brenda felt them sinking into the mud. Cold and slimy, it went right through the fibers of her remaining clothing.

  And then she laughed. Brenda had no idea why, but she started chuckling, and it turned into full-body amusement. Bothan joined her as they fought against the bog and managed to stand. Bothan used his greater strength to pull her away from the center of the bog. Her underdress was sagging; even though it was made of lightweight linen, it felt like it was constructed of the thickest wool. She struggled to walk under the weight.

  “Come on, lass,” Bothan encouraged her. “There’s a good deep spot in the river up ahead. We can clean this muck away and leave ye being praised for rescuing a calf without the details of nearly drowning in a bog to ruin yer heroic deeds.”

  “The good wives have already said plenty about me darker deeds,” Brenda agreed as she grabbed two handfuls of the front of her dress and lifted it high so she might walk. Mud felt like it was everywhere, between her toes and breasts and other places she’d rather not contemplate.

  The sound of the river drew her toward the promise of rinsing some of the muck from her. Now that the calf was no longer looking to her for rescue, she felt unbearably grimy. While working to free the animal, she’d been distracted from just how foul the bog smelled. Now, the stench was almost too much to bear.

  So much so Brenda waded right into the water. She felt it chill her skin, but being cold was an improvement over being coated in thick, foul-smelling mud. Bothan stopped at the shore to pull his sword belt up and over his head. He looked around before setting the weapon against a large rock near the water’s edge.

  Brenda heard him splashing into the water as she held her breath and dunked her whole head beneath the surface of the water. When she stood, Brenda felt the water running down her back, carrying dirt with it.

  She went under again and again until her teeth were chattering.

  “Here.” Bothan offered her a lump of something.

  In the fading light, she ventured closer to see what he held. The lump of soap was scented with rosemary.

  “Ye have soap?” she asked him before taking it with a smile.

  “Aye,” he answered before pulling his shirt up and over his shoulders. “I’d just come up from bathing when Alba said she’d no’ seen ye for hours.”

  “And ye came looking—” Brenda shut her mouth as she felt tension returning. The calf had consumed her attention for the afternoon.

  Bothan sent her a hard look. “Of course I went looking for ye,” he admonished her gruffly. “Ye might have been the one stuck in a bog instead of that calf.”

  Brenda tossed her head and lifted her chin. “I know better than to get stuck in a bog.”

  Bothan flashed her a grin. “But ye got trampled by a calf, now didn’t ye?”

  He was enjoying the situation hugely. Brenda narrowed her eyes at him before giving him her back and washing her hair.

  “It was funny, and ye know it,” he said after a bit.

  She turned, the tension relieved by the scent of rosemary stripping the stench from her skin. “No matter how well we clean up here, the tale will still make its way once those children are finished with their evening chores.”

  “No doubt,” Bothan agreed as he extended his hand for the lump of soap.

  Brenda handed it over before she realized he’d stripped his kilt off.
The wet wool was lying up on the shore as he stood just deep enough to cover his cock.

  He snorted at her. “Do nae look so shocked…wife. Ye’ve seen a man before.”

  “Not really…” Brenda turned around, ready to cut her own tongue out. It was one thing to know in her own head but quite another to allow her words to slip so easily past her tongue to incriminate her. The truth was she’d fanned the flames of the gossips and let them make her into something far bolder than she was.

  The words left unspoken were far stronger than the ones she might hurl in anger.

  She heard Bothan splashing in the water as he washed. The evening breeze was blowing now, chilling her to the bone. But she still craved being clean over warming up. So she sat down and pulled her boots off, stripping her stockings from her legs so the mud between her toes might be washed away.

  There was a pop and crackle from the shore. Orange light flashed at her from where Bothan had struck a flint stone and dropped sparks into a pile of tinder. A flame caught and licked up the sides of a piece of wood he’d found along the shoreline. Staying in the water was impossible with the promise of warming herself.

  She stood and carried her boots with her to the shore.

  “Yer husband bedded ye in full view of the court, and yet he did nae strip down for the event?” Bothan asked her as he tended the fire without a care for the fact that he was bare skinned. She was fascinated by the way he worked to build up the fire and spread out his clothing without a single shiver to betray that he felt the evening chill.

  Her teeth chattered, proving she wasn’t as hearty as he was.

  “Sit down behind the rocks,” he said, proving he was very much aware of her feeling the cold. “They will cut the breeze. Strip yer clothing off, and ye will warm up very quickly, I promise ye.”

  The hair on his chest had been a dark mat of wet fur. Now it was curling up and away from his skin.

  “If I was going to demand me rights as yer husband, I would have done it with witnesses, Brenda,” he said gruffly. “There is no need for ye to stand there and clutch yer clothing to ye like a shield.”