Highlander of My Heart (Mcardle Sisters of Courage 1)

Sorrell understood why when she spotted the splat of mud on the sheath of his sword attached to his back. He had seen the mud ball ready to hit her and had taken the blow meant for her.

Sorrell hurried around him and yelled out, “You prove once again what a coward you are, not showing yourself, Peter.”

She could have sworn she heard a muffled oath as the giant’s body once again wrapped around her and hugged her tight to him, shielding her from not one but two mud balls.

This time when the giant unfurled him from Sorrell, he kept a firm hand on her arm, not letting her step past him.

“Throw another and it will be the last you ever throw,” John called out in a tone that left no room for doubt.

Sorrell had to admire the huge man. He remained as he was, not moving out of range of Peter, but staying put and showing not an ounce of fear.

After a few moments, when nothing more happened, John let go of Sorrell. Though he stepped around her, shielding her once again.

“This is not the end of it. He is angry. You embarrassed him in front of his mates.”

“I care not what he thinks. He pelted my blind sister with mud balls and laughed as he did. He deserves more than what I gave him.”

“You’re too wee of a lass to go up against him,” John warned.

“Do not underestimate me, giant,” Sorrell snapped and stepped away from him. “Go to the kitchen,” —Sorrell pointed to the building to the side of the keep— “and tell Dorrit, the cook, that Sorrell said to feed you or I’ll hunt her down. And say it like that or she will give you nothing. You can find temporary shelter in one of the stables.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” John said with a bob of his head.

“Don’t make me regret it, giant,” Sorrell said and walked away.

It wasn’t until she had taken a few steps that she realized he had never explained about the shackle. She shrugged, thinking he wouldn’t be here long, so what difference did it make?

Sorrell headed to the keep only to see James approach. He was of fair height and had their father’s dark hair and eyes. He had good features, though not the fine features of their father but perhaps it was because of the crook in his nose caused by an injury he had suffered when he was a lad. He was slim, though muscled, and he carried himself like their father had, with confidence.

“Who is that man?” James asked with a nod toward John when they reached each other.

“His name is John and he seeks shelter and food for a few days before continuing on his journey,” Sorrell said, not feeling the need to explain more than that.

She could see by the way James stared after the giant that he would find time to speak with him and see for himself if there was any cause to worry.

The thought had her thinking that perhaps it was better he knew more than she had thought to tell him. “The giant came to my aid against Peter.”

James rolled his eyes. “What did you do, Sorrell?”

Sorrell boldly explained it all.

“Willow was right in coming to me. I only wish it had been sooner so I could have prevented your altercation with Peter.”

Sorrell knew her sister well and understood that by going to James, Willow felt she was protecting Sorrell just as Sorrell felt she was protecting Snow by confronting Peter.

“You should have come to me. I would have seen that Peter was made to—”

“What? Apologize only to have him do it again?” She shook her head. “Walsh MacLoon is too busy trying to claim a parcel of our land to give any thought to what he no doubt would consider a minor incident.”

“Perhaps, but that is for me to consider not you. However, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” He pointed to the keep. “Let’s talk in my solar.”

Sorrell almost rushed her hand to her stomach, hoping that somehow it would prevent it from clenching with worry, but stopped when she realized it was covered in mud. It would have done little good anyway, since her stomach tightened like a clenched fist. She hated when it did that. It was like a forewarning that something was going to happen that she didn’t like.

“Let me clean my hands first,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”

He nodded. “This is important, Sorrell.”

“I’ll hurry,” she said, understanding he was letting her know she was not to ignore him and go off and do as she pleased.

She was done quick enough, having cleaned her hands in a bucket of water filled from the rain barrel by the kitchen. And while she took hasty steps to James’ solar, she felt as if her boots slogged with every step she took, the sense of being led to her execution weighing heavily upon her.