Page 19 of Redemption

“I dinnae know, but this arrow was no’ shot from a MacLeod bow.”

She snapped her head up and met his gaze. “How do ye know?”

“The arrowhead had no barbs—which is damned lucky for me. The feathers on the end are no’ goose feathers. MacLeod bowyers and blacksmiths are particularly proud of their weaponry, and their arrows are very distinct. This arrow was no’ created to kill. Its blade is too short. ‘Tis more like a training arrow. This land is used for hunting, but deer are scarce this time of year. I would guess a lad was practicing and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” His brows furrowed. “The arrow came close to slicing your cheek.”

Her heart warmed at the concern on his face. She placed the bloody cloth on the night table and used a cleaner cloth to wipe the blood from his back. “Someone was training?” Helena waited for the lie she knew was coming.

He nodded. “Had it been a lad out playing in the field, he would have pissed himself had he learned the arrow’s mark.”

She couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t her their attackers had been chasing, but Kaden. She wasn’t as good an archer as sixteen-year-old Blair—Malcom was beside himself with glee at the girl’s talent—but Helena had used a bow and arrow since she arrived at the abbey, and knew something about practice arrows. Kaden was right, a practice arrow had a shorter blade and wasn’t designed to kill. But the arrow she’d pulled from his shoulder had a blade longer than that of a practice blade.

She suspected that the MacLeods had discovered the theft of the Faery Flag, and perhaps the men she had encountered had identified her. But Kaden was too cool about the incident. If he thought the laird was after her, he would have ridden until he fell from his horse in an effort to get her as far away from their pursuers as possible. She didn’t know him well, but that much she knew. Fear stabbed. Whatever cloud he’d left the clan under was coming back to haunt him. Perhaps Mrs. Hays was wrong and he couldn’t return home.

“Ye are fortunate. It could have been worse.” Helena stood and wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve. “Have ye more clean cloths for me to wrap the wounds?”

“In the chest.” He twisted slightly and nodded toward the wall to the right.

Helena hurried to the chest, knelt and opened the lid. As she began to pull out folded cloths, she noticed a small metal pin in the right-hand corner. She picked it up and examined it. The gold pin was of two half-moons with a sword along the middle. The words Hold fast were etched along the blade of the miniature sword.

Hold fast. The MacLeod clan motto. Helena had seen similar pins worn by the eldest son of a clan and the next heir in line. She had known Mrs. Hays was telling the truth about Kaden. Still, seeing the pin, the proof that he was the rightful heir to the castle, made her stomach do a somersault. Why had he denied his place as leader of the MacLeods? Had this Caeleb forced him out? Anger shot through her. Had someone shot at him in order to keep him away from his clan, away from his rightful place as laird?

“Helena?”

She jarred from her thoughts.

“God’s teeth,” he muttered. “Ye found the pin.”

She rose, the pin in hand, and faced him.

“How much did Maggie tell ye?” he asked.

“Enough,” she replied.

His eyes were still dull with pain, but he gave her a narrow-eyed scowl. “I have come to know ye well enough by now, lass, to know that you will allow me to think you know more than you do.”

She was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to shake the truth from him. “I know that that arrow is no’ a practice arrow.”

He stared at her for two heartbeats. “You know how to handle bow and arrow?”

She nodded. “Aye. And I know you left the MacLeods under a cloud. ‘Tis clear they forced you out, and someone tried to kill ye today in an effort to keep you away from your inheritance.”

He gave a hoarse laugh that turned into a coughing fit. She hurried to his side. “I am upsetting you. I am a fool,” she muttered.

He chuckled, this time low and without effort. “A beautiful fool. Lass, you are only half right, and the half you have wrong is very wrong.”

Helena hesitated, then said. “Stay still while I fetch the cloth to wrap your wounds.” She jumped to her feet and hurried back to the chest. She put the pin back in the chest and pulled out the cloths, then returned to the bed.

Helena sat beside him, then said, “I told you my story. Now you will tell me yours.”

He sighed, then began, “You're right. I was to be laird. But I wasnae forced out. I left of my own accord.”

“But why?” she asked.

“Two years ago, my father hanged my brother, his son, for treason.”

Helena drew a sharp breath. “God have mercy. What did your brother do?”

He leaned against the wall. “Give me that whisky.”