Highland Promise Read Free Page A

closely, she drew her dagger and stood in front of the child. Two men slipped out of the shadows of the surrounding trees. She frowned slightly, for they did not look like William’s men.
    “Ye willnae take the bairn,” she said firmly.
    “We dinnae want the bairn,” the taller of the two men said, briefly glancing at her dagger and then at the silver cup James still held in his tiny hands.
    “Ye are naught but base thieves.”
    “Weel, ’tis certain we arenae what ye were expecting, but we arenae base thieves. We are verra good ones and it looks as if luck has smiled upon us.”
    Bethia knew that she ought to just let them take what they wanted, that fighting with the men would only endanger her and James, could even get them killed. What the thieves wished to steal from her, however, was all she had left of Sorcha. Her mind told her to pick up the baby and run, but her heart, still raw and aching with grief, was determined that these rough men would never touch Sorcha’s things.
    “Ye willnae take what is mine without a fight, sirs,” she said coldly, praying that they were abject cowards.
    “Now, lassie, are those few things really worth your life or the bairn’s?”
    “Nay, but the question should be, are they really worth yours?”

Chapter Two
    The sound of voices pulled Eric from his thoughts. He tensed in his saddle and listened more carefully, finally determining the direction they came from. He had decided it was best to take the less traveled routes to his mother’s family to avoid any trouble, yet it appeared that he was about to ride into some.
    Cautiously, he edged his mount toward the voices. He briefly considered dismounting and approaching on foot, but decided to remain mounted. If there was trouble ahead and it was more than he could deal with, he wanted to be able to get out of its reach as fast as possible.
    When he first saw the people through the trees, he had to resist the urge to rub his eyes in disbelief. A tiny, slender, chestnut-haired woman with only a small ornate dagger stood facing two sword-wielding men. Eric stared at the bairn behind her for a full moment before he believed it was really there.
    “Now, lassie, are those few things really worth your life or the bairn’s?” Eric heard the taller of the two men say.
    And the little woman replied, “Nay, but the question should be, are they really worth yours?”
    Brave , Eric thought. Foolish, but brave . The woman’s question was enough to make the two thieves hesitate and Eric decided their indecision gave him the perfect opportunity to help the woman. As the two men assumed a fighting stance, Eric boldly rode into the small clearing. He had to smile at the way all three people gaped at him as if he was some apparition formed by the mists of the forest.
    “I think the lady wishes to keep her things, sirs,” he drawled as he drew his sword. “If ye wish to keep your brutish heads upon your cowardly shoulders, I suggest ye run—now—verra fast and verra far.”
    The men hesitated barely a heartbeat before stumbling back into the wood. Eric watched their flight until he could no longer see them and then turned to look at the woman. She still stared at him as if he was a ghost and he took full advantage of her openmouthed confusion to look her over carefully.
    His brothers’ wives were small, delicately built women, but he suspected this one would look small even next to them. Her hair was thick and long, hanging in soft waves to her small yet shapely hips. It was a rich, deep chestnut color; the sunlight that broke through the cover of the trees decorated it with glimpses of red. Her face was small, vaguely heart shaped, with the hint of a stubborn chin, a small straight nose, and an invitingly full mouth. What grabbed and held Eric’s attention, however, was her eyes. Wide, thickly lashed, and set beneath delicately arched brows, they did not match. The left one was a rich, clear green and the right was a brilliant