The quick hoof beats drew closer and closer, making her heart thump at the same frenzied pace. Were the outlaws searching for them? She peered around his shoulder.

Two horses galloped past the wood along the narrow trail, a hundred feet away, their silhouettes a dark blur against the moon’s reflection in the flowing stream.

A woman screamed.

“Who is that?” Seona asked, icy fear slicing through her.

A war cry sounded not too far away. Horses neighed.

“What the devil? Get on my back,” Keegan commanded, then leaned down in front of her.

“Nay. Why?”

“Do it, Seona!” he growled low. “’Tis Lady Isobel. I have to help her, but I’m not leaving you here.”

Isobel? Saints!

Seona climbed onto his broad back, holding onto his shoulders. He wrapped one arm around her thigh and, with his other hand, he carried his unsheathed sword. Moving nimbly, he ran through the wood past his horse, weaving among the trees. With the rough pace, she jolted against his back. She could not believe his fearsome strength.

On the trail just beyond the trees, blades clashed and clanged. The silhouettes of two warriors in a sword dual moved this way and that.

“Nay!” a woman yelled. “Cease!”

“Indeed, that is Isobel,” Seona whispered, the sensation of chilled water flowing in her veins.

“Leave him alone, you bastard!” Isobel yelled.

“Go, Isobel! Run!” a man commanded. Though enraged, his voice sounded familiar. Dirk?

Aye, he was one of the men fighting, yelling scathing Gaelic insults and curses at his opponent.

Chapter Six

Quietly, Keegan carried Seona on his back through the trees and closer to the edge of the dark forest. Loud shouts from the two warriors and the clangs of their blades filled the night air.

“’Tis Chief Dirk, fighting with someone,” Seona whispered into Keegan’s ear.

“Aye.” But he couldn’t tell which of the outlaws challenged him. Dirk could take care of himself, but protecting Isobel while fighting would be much harder. “Wait right here, behind this tree,” Keegan whispered, lowering Seona to the ground next to a larger tree. Hopefully, wearing his dark plaid, she would be well-hidden behind the trunk. He wanted her close-by so he could protect her should the outlaw flee Dirk’s wrath. “I’ll get Isobel.”

“Have a care.”

“Aye.”

Keegan rushed to the perimeter of the wood. He didn’t wish to distract Dirk, but he had to be sure Isobel remained safe, especially since she hadn’t run like Dirk had ordered her to. Stubborn woman. She stood thirty feet behind Dirk, well out of range of the two fighters, but still too close for his comfort.

“Isobel. ’Tis me, Keegan,” he said, still hidden in the shadow of the trees, though likely his pale linen shirt could be seen in the moonlight. “Come.”

She gasped and sent a quick glance his way. “Nay. We must help Dirk!”

Keegan crept closer, unable to recognize Dirk’s opponent in the low light. “Who is he fighting?”

“Nolan MacLeod.”

The bastard who had tried to rape Isobel last year? Keegan had never met him, but he’d seen him from a distance.

“Dirk can handle him. Come into the wood where you can hide with Seona.”

In the next instant, Nolan’s sword flew into the air and he fell backward, yelling and grabbing his throat. He sprawled down the embankment, his head almost in the water of the stream. After a few moments, he grew silent and still.

Dirk’s loud breaths were the only sounds in the darkness. Isobel ran to him and he drew her close with one arm.

“Are you injured?” she asked.

“Nay,” Dirk said. “Are you?”

“Nay.”

“Thank the saints. When he snatched you from the tent and took off, I thought my life was over.” Dirk pulled Isobel tighter against him and kissed her.

Keegan moved out of the tree line and closer to the unmoving body of Nolan MacLeod. An ugly dark gash marred his throat.

“Is the bastard dead?” Dirk asked.

Nolan’s eyes gleamed wide and sightless in the moonlight. “Aye. Looks that way.”

“Justice is served,” Dirk said.

“Indeed,” Isobel agreed, staring solemnly at the dead man’s body. “I wanted to kill him myself but… he was too strong for me.”

“Nay, ’twas my duty and responsibility,” Dirk said. “Any other whoreson who hurts you—or even tries to—will meet the same fate.”

Dirk could have lost his beloved wife so easily tonight. He had to be relieved to finally be rid of the MacLeod knave. Keegan could only imagine how he must have felt when Isobel was seized. ’Twas the same gut-wrenching feeling he would have if someone kidnapped Seona. Keegan strode back into the wood and found her where he’d left her, wrapped in his plaid and standing behind the tree.

“All is well now. Nolan MacLeod grabbed Isobel and made off with her, but Dirk killed the blackguard. Neither Dirk nor Isobel is hurt.”

“’Tis good news. I would like to see Isobel,” Seona said, excitement evident in her tone. “What of Haldane?”

“I know not yet. Come.” After sheathing his sword, Keegan lifted Seona into his arms and carried her through the trees. Though he would never tell her, he was enjoying the sensation of carrying her slim, lithe form in his arms. Once he emerged onto the trail, he set Seona onto her feet but stood between her and Nolan’s dead body. She didn’t need the additional scare.

“Och. I see what happened to your plaid, then,” Dirk said in a light tone.

“Aye. I am ever the gentleman.” Keegan gave a mock courtly bow.

“I’m not certain of that, but you are generous.” Dirk grinned. “Where’s your horse?”

“Hidden in the trees. I’ll go retrieve him.”

While Dirk guarded the women, Keegan returned to the forest for Curry.

A few minutes later, they were all mounted and traveling slowly through the dimness, Keegan’s horse behind Dirk’s. The faint light of dawn gleamed over the dark mountains and white morning mist floated from the burn.

Thankfully, the echo of blades had gone silent and Keegan hoped each member of the MacKay party was unhurt. He wanted to ask Dirk if they’d lost any men, but he and Isobel were sharing a kiss up ahead. Far be it from him to interrupt, but their actions made him crave another taste of Seona.

Her innocent kiss had completely seduced him. From the first time he’d seen her last autumn, her full, bow-shaped lips had driven him mad. He’d been fantasizing about kissing her for months, and now that he knew how delicious her kisses were, he yearned for more. So much more.

Those two minutes had been the most stunning of Keegan’s life. He had to find a way to keep her.

Now, he held her slender form with one arm around her midsection. Her curvy arse pressing against his groin was even more tempting than the floral scent emanating from her long, glossy hair. Every aspect of her lured him, but he managed to restrain himself from brushing his lips across her ear. For the moment, simply holding her close and knowing she was safe was enough.

He focused on guiding the horse along the side of the burn toward camp.

Dirk stopped and waited for Keegan to catch up. “I hope the guards have run the rest of the outlaws through,” Dirk said.

“Aye. Do you ken if any in our party was killed?”

“Nay, I don’t.”

A horse nickered nearby. Halting, Keegan snatched his sword from the scabbard and Dirk did the same. Keegan’s gaze searched the vicinity for the rider. He detected no other movements. The animal dropped his head and continued picking grass.

“Nolan’s horse,” Dirk said.

Keegan eyed the animal in the faint light of dawn. The pale gray horse looked familiar, although scrawnier than the last time he’d seen it. “He may have been riding it, cousin, but ’tis one the outlaws stole from Dunnakeil last winter.”