The Wolf and the Highlander (Highland Wishes) Read Free Page B

drunk, and a mean one more often than not, but he’d been her drunk to care for. Because of Aodhan, she hadn’t been able to comfort him at his death. Och, no. Because of her. Her. She was the wicked one.
    “Auld age, An. I suppose. ” His eyes went soft on her when he used the shortened version of her name. “Or too much drink. Took about a week. He suffered some, but went bravely, like a Keith. I came to inventory his possessions,” he went on, the softness lifting. “Everything belongs to the laird now, since your da has no surviving near kin.”
    He leve led a look at her, letting the statement penetrate. Since he’d exiled her she was no longer considered clan. She didn’t count as her da’s heir. She hadn’t expected any different, but hearing it said aloud still stung.
    “Well,” she snapped. “What are ye waiting for? Take me to Steafan.”
    Aodhan shook his head. “Nay. I doona think I will. Nor will I pass along your apologies to Darcy and Ginnie. If you turn around and walk out that door, and I never see you again, I’ll tell myself the box made your spirit manifest to me tonight. By morning I may even believe it.”
    She shook her head. “ I came here for a reason. You must see me punished. You must.” Her da had died bravely. So would she.
    “ Seems to me you’ve suffered enough. Go on with you, lass.” He lifted his chin toward the door.
    This couldn’t be happening. Once again a man was telling her to leave when she had nowhere to go. She’d made peace with coming back to Ackergill. Her conscience felt light for the first time in ages.
    “Go on,” Aodhan said again, and he turned his back to her, pretending interest in her da’s knickknacks.
    He was showing her mercy, but it was the last thing she wanted. She’d felt so strongly she was meant to come here. She’d hoped to belong somewhere again, even if only for a few precious moments.
    A song one of Gravois’ travelers used to sing filled her mind like a prayer:
     
    When I had a home, I could not wait to leave it.
    When I had none, I longed for a hearth of my own.
    Lord, if you have not found me lacking,
    Open up your gates; I’m coming home.
     
    She was home. Or nearly so. She wouldn’t limp away like a coward. “Take me to Steafan,” she said, but a faint clinking sound coming from Aodhan’s direction interrupted her. The cottage began spinning around her, quicker and quicker, as if she’d been caught up in a waterspout. Dizziness dragged her to her hands and knees.
    “What the bloody hell?” Aodhan said.
    Somat clattered to the floor. Amidst the spinning, she glimpsed what had made the noise. The box. Though stationary on the floor, it streaked past, leaving a trail in her vision like a shooting star. Its lid was open.
    The whirling floor changed from dust-streaked wood to dried leaves. The lantern-lit dimness of her da’s cottage changed to the gray light of either dusk or dawn.
    “Anya! What’s happening , lass?” Aodhan’s voice was distant.
    “It’s the bloody box!” she cried. But the cabin was gone. Aodhan was gone. The spinning stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
    She was surrounded by a thick gray forest. Cautiously, she sat up and searched her memory for clues as to where she might be. There were no forests this dense near Ackergill. The vines of ivy hanging from the mossy trees were like nothing she’d ever seen.
    “Bloody hell.” The bloody meddling box. It had sent her who kent where. Mayhap across oceans. Mayhap across time, as Big Darcy’s wife had claimed.
    Did that mean she was trapped here? Wherever here was?
    A rusting noise drew her gaze around. A beast burst through some bracken and ran straight at her. A boar! A giant one! All great tusks and slobbering snout.
    She screamed and scurried out of its path.
    It charged past, grunting, its brown eyes glazed with panic.
    Thank the good Lord it ignored her. Rolling to her side, she watched its hindquarters as it raced into the trees. She’d