Ye Give Love A Plaid Name (Bad in Plaid 3)

She thought she heard defeat in his tone, and hated it. But she couldn’t focus on that, not when her heart ached for each of his wounds.

It took her and Wren both to lift him to his feet, although mayhap the pair of them made it twice as hard. Either way, she ended up with his broken arm thrown over her shoulder—not ideal, but it kept it away from Wren who insisted on holding his other hand—as she tried to convince him to give her more of his weight.

“I can walk,” he snapped, pushing himself upright to prove it.

“Of course ye can walk,” she snapped right back. “ ’Tis yer head that’s broken, no’ yer legs.”

She thought she might’ve seen a ghost of a smile flit across his lips.

A running figure caught their attention, and Pherson reacted immediately, pulling his arm from her shoulders, pushing his daughter behind him, and drawing a blade in one smooth movement.

“ ‘Tis Evander,” she pointed out, but Pherson didn’t lower his weapon.

And that’s when she remembered his reaction to learning Evander was one of the King’s Hunters.

“He’s here for the one-eyed man,” she said softly, her hand on his arm, trying to force him to lower his blade. “We thought he meant the same man who Laird McClure had been hunting, but now I see ‘twas in reality—och, I’m blathering, am I no’?”

He didn’t lower his weapon—or his gaze—but Pherson nodded tightly. “Blathering.”

From behind, his daughter echoed cheerfully, “Blathering!”

When Evander halted before them, he wasn’t even winded, but his strung bow hung from one hand, a pair of arrows in the other. “They’re dead?” he asked, trying to peer around the three of them.

Wynda sincerely hoped she wasn’t supposed to have double-checked.

Pherson didn’t answer. Instead, he growled, “Where’s yer helm, Hunter?”

And Evander slowly straightened.

She squeezed closer to Pherson, watching the looks which passed between the two men. The man she loved was barely upright, blood caking his broken skin, but his eyes gleamed with fierce determination. She’d seen how quickly he could flip that dagger into an enemy.

But her brother didn’t appear concerned. Instead, he considered Pherson and Wren thoughtfully, his head cocked to one side as his gaze darted between them and the bodies.

Finally, his shoulders relaxed and he dropped his eyes to the quiver at his side, his attention seemingly on sliding the two arrows back into it. To show that he wasn’t a threat?

Pherson didn’t lower his dagger.

“I wasnae hunting ye, falconer,” he said simply. Then he jerked his chin at the one-eyed man. “‘Twas him I was after. Roger Campbell’s been terrorizing the Lowlands for years—“

“I ken,” Pherson interrupted.

Slowly, her brother nodded. “Aye, I think ye might. Am I correct in assuming ye once belonged to him?”

The point of the dagger wavered as Pherson glanced over his shoulder at the bodies. “I did. I…” He sighed, then lowered his blade. “I betrayed him,” he said simply, as he slid his weapon into its sheath.

And Wynda’s eyes widened as it all clicked together in her mind. “The Campbell gang,” she breathed.

These men had been part of the gang Pherson had belonged to all those years ago. He’d run with Wren, but…something must have happened. Something he hadn’t told her. But when he’d learned Evander was a Hunter, he’d assumed her half-brother had come for him. That explained why he’d left her bed so suddenly, sounding so final about it.

Evander was nodding. “Roger Campbell didn’t deserve an easy death, so despite what ye suffered at his hand, I’m grateful for any headache ye caused him.” His lips twitched. “Which I have to guess is what happened, based on the fact he’s been chasing ye for so long.”

“I killed his brother afore I left.”

“Ah.” Evander’s brows rose. “Good. I assume, when we met in the hall, ye thought I’d come for ye?”

Pherson’s working hand groped behind him, and she saw wee Wren latch onto it. Her father’s chin rose. “I had some things I needed to do afore I could go with ye.”

He’d gone for Wren, that much was obvious. Even a blind man could see how devoted he was to his daughter. But to hear he’d planned on turning himself over to Evander, to a King’s Hunter, whom he assumed had come to take him to justice…