The Outcast Highlander by R.L. Syme Read Free Book Online

froze, eyes unblinking, and he snatched her reins.
    With a quick movement, he led her back to where he’d last seen her hoof prints, where his stallion waited. Broc tied the small mare to his saddlebag and went forward on foot, all the while listening for more horses and watching for Kensey.
    His entire body tensed when he first saw her, lying in a knot on the ground. He couldn’t breathe at first, then he sprang into action. The ground around her showed no signs of blood and a cursory check of her head produced no evidence other than a rounding bump near her left ear where she either hit a tree or hit the ground.
    Blast it all. Why hadn’t he stayed with her when he first brought her to St. Claire? He could have borne the strange ill will of his brothers more than this. If she were injured beyond repair, or God forbid, dead, he would never forgive himself.
    But when he turned her over, she gulped a huge breath. Her eyes remained closed and Broc trailed a hand down the side of her face, trying to convince himself he was checking for something and not just wanting to touch her.
    His hands continued to check for signs of injury, while always attempting to maintain her dignity. But the extremities must be free of injury if he were going to attempt to move her.
    Either pain or fear fluttered her eyes open and she moved lazily, as though she’d been at the drink. “What the devil are you doing here?”
    Broc couldn’t contain his reluctant smile. Even in her delicate state, she managed to sound like a queen on her throne. “A real lady shouldn’t curse like that.”
    “A real gentleman shouldn’t speak of it.”
    His smile faded. She was right. It was presumptuous of him to continue to call her out in her distress. He straightened and gestured to her horse.
    “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, may I ask why your horse grazes yonder when there are men who chase you?”
    “Oh, stop, you impertinent fool.” Kensey shook his hand away and searched the area around her for something. “I was knocked off my horse.”
    “What are you looking for?”
    She sighed. “I would like to get up and resume my travels.”
    So she looked for something to pull herself up with, yet ignored his help. How like her. He must be beneath her notice. Or her care.
    “Let me help you.” He stood and offered both hands. She considered him for a moment and finally touched him again. He couldn’t deny a tiny thrill at having won the fight, or at having her hands in his. But her frustration continued.
    She furrowed her brow and released his hands. First one step, then another. But on the third step, she began to sway and Broc had to follow quickly to catch her.
    “You’re in no state to be walking.” He swept her into his arms, despite her protest, and stilled her grasping hands by hooking both of her wrists together in one grip. “Nor riding.”
    He deposited her atop his horse and jumped up before she could make any more fuss. The Ross men obviously hadn’t followed them, but they would have to proceed carefully from here, knowing they may come back upon them at any time.
    Broc urged his horse forward into a slow cantor, searching for the least dense path forward. In his lap, Kensey pulled on the dirty folds of her dress, dislodging bits of the forest floor that still clung to the delicate fabric.
    “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
    “Let’s get you out of here first, lass.” He glanced back into the thick canopy of stillness for a moment. “Ross’s men may be quick on our heels.”
    Sitting against him as she was now, she felt tiny and vulnerable. His cloak had opened as he’d climbed onto Gaidel’s back and she was now sitting in the midst of it, against his nearly bare chest. She seemed to suck up all the warmth in his body as she curled against him. Her eyelashes blinked furiously, as though she tried to keep herself awake when sleep called. He reached down and wrapped the warmth of the cloak around her.
    “You