Read Online Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4) by Dorothy Wiley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dorothy Wiley
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because of his unusual size. He’d seen the same reaction before from other people.
“Can my brother and I escort you to where you were going?” William asked.
“I would welcome ye, for a wee bit,” she said and strode over to her horse. After deftly mounting the mare, she said, “I was on my way to see my land for the first time. From the directions I received from the Land Commissioner, it should be just ahead at the bend in the road.”
“I’ve been wondering who that land belonged to. We’ll be neighbors. My wife and I have a place called Whispering Hills, a few miles beyond yours,” William said.
While the two spoke, Bear tied the mountain lion to the back of his saddle. “Steady Camel. This big boy is dead. He will na harm ye. Artis and I have seen to that.”
He remounted and followed as William led them both to Miss MacKay’s land.
Chapter 8
A rtis’ heart was still racing. She had never come so close to death. And hoped she never would again.
And the sight of the immense Scot standing before her, after he’d killed the beast, had been nearly as frightening as the lion. He seemed as strong as an oak and almost as tall. And, as he’d slayed the cat in the blink of an eye, she could tell that his fierce face and swift actions revealed but a glimpse of the warrior within him.
His enormous body looked like a virtual armory. Besides the deadly dirk he’d wielded to kill the lion, he kept a smaller knife, called a
sgian dubh
by Scots, tucked into the top of his tall leather moccasins. Another knife hung from his neck in a beautifully beaded doeskin sheath. A hatchet, which appeared as though it might once have been an Indian’s tomahawk, stuck out from his belt. Two flintlock pistols, pointing in opposite directions, protruded through leather sheaths. And a Kentucky long rifle hung from his saddle.
When she saw him for the first time, her initial emotion had been relief. But something else quickly followed as he’d intently peered at her. Although he’d acted a gentleman and his words were kind, his eyes had raked boldly over her. When other men did that to her, her only reaction was immediate anger and repulsion. She found their gawking degrading. But for some reason, with this man, she didn’t seem to mind. He seemedto be admiring not demeaning her. Perhaps it was his voice that reminded her of her home or the humor reflected in his kind eyes, but she found his charismatic manner exciting. Whatever it was, she had to admit his compelling character intrigued her.
As they rode side by side behind William’s horse, she decided she wanted to learn more about this rugged Scot. He was dressed in a buckskin hunting shirt and black leather breeches and looked ready to take on anything and everything.
“Mister MacKee,” she said, tingling a little when she said his name, so similar to her own, “where in Scotland was yer boyhood home and how long have ye been in the colonies, if I may ask?”
A sudden sadness appeared on his face. “Please call me Bear, Miss. My parents and I sailed for the colonies right after the first clearance—the bastards took our land and forced us off it. My da and mum both died on the voyage and we buried them at sea.” Bear gazed down and she saw him swallow his emotions before he continued. “I was but thirteen years old, although I was already as big as most men.”
“What happened to ye?”
“New York was just too sizeable for a boy from the Highlands. I had my father’s coins, and used some of it to travel to New Hampshire. I met William’s kind parents, God rest their good souls, in church and soon they adopted me. They treated me like one of their own five sons. Durin’ the winter, Mrs. Wyllie would insist that I stay with them, attend church, and receive schoolin’ with her own boys. But the rest of the year, I wanted to be outdoors. I used the skills me grandfather taught me in the Highlands to become a hunter and rid the area of the threat of
“Can my brother and I escort you to where you were going?” William asked.
“I would welcome ye, for a wee bit,” she said and strode over to her horse. After deftly mounting the mare, she said, “I was on my way to see my land for the first time. From the directions I received from the Land Commissioner, it should be just ahead at the bend in the road.”
“I’ve been wondering who that land belonged to. We’ll be neighbors. My wife and I have a place called Whispering Hills, a few miles beyond yours,” William said.
While the two spoke, Bear tied the mountain lion to the back of his saddle. “Steady Camel. This big boy is dead. He will na harm ye. Artis and I have seen to that.”
He remounted and followed as William led them both to Miss MacKay’s land.
Chapter 8
A rtis’ heart was still racing. She had never come so close to death. And hoped she never would again.
And the sight of the immense Scot standing before her, after he’d killed the beast, had been nearly as frightening as the lion. He seemed as strong as an oak and almost as tall. And, as he’d slayed the cat in the blink of an eye, she could tell that his fierce face and swift actions revealed but a glimpse of the warrior within him.
His enormous body looked like a virtual armory. Besides the deadly dirk he’d wielded to kill the lion, he kept a smaller knife, called a
sgian dubh
by Scots, tucked into the top of his tall leather moccasins. Another knife hung from his neck in a beautifully beaded doeskin sheath. A hatchet, which appeared as though it might once have been an Indian’s tomahawk, stuck out from his belt. Two flintlock pistols, pointing in opposite directions, protruded through leather sheaths. And a Kentucky long rifle hung from his saddle.
When she saw him for the first time, her initial emotion had been relief. But something else quickly followed as he’d intently peered at her. Although he’d acted a gentleman and his words were kind, his eyes had raked boldly over her. When other men did that to her, her only reaction was immediate anger and repulsion. She found their gawking degrading. But for some reason, with this man, she didn’t seem to mind. He seemedto be admiring not demeaning her. Perhaps it was his voice that reminded her of her home or the humor reflected in his kind eyes, but she found his charismatic manner exciting. Whatever it was, she had to admit his compelling character intrigued her.
As they rode side by side behind William’s horse, she decided she wanted to learn more about this rugged Scot. He was dressed in a buckskin hunting shirt and black leather breeches and looked ready to take on anything and everything.
“Mister MacKee,” she said, tingling a little when she said his name, so similar to her own, “where in Scotland was yer boyhood home and how long have ye been in the colonies, if I may ask?”
A sudden sadness appeared on his face. “Please call me Bear, Miss. My parents and I sailed for the colonies right after the first clearance—the bastards took our land and forced us off it. My da and mum both died on the voyage and we buried them at sea.” Bear gazed down and she saw him swallow his emotions before he continued. “I was but thirteen years old, although I was already as big as most men.”
“What happened to ye?”
“New York was just too sizeable for a boy from the Highlands. I had my father’s coins, and used some of it to travel to New Hampshire. I met William’s kind parents, God rest their good souls, in church and soon they adopted me. They treated me like one of their own five sons. Durin’ the winter, Mrs. Wyllie would insist that I stay with them, attend church, and receive schoolin’ with her own boys. But the rest of the year, I wanted to be outdoors. I used the skills me grandfather taught me in the Highlands to become a hunter and rid the area of the threat of
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