Tarah had tried to fight the guilt she had about Abby’s parents finding out that she wasn’t staying at her place, but really she just felt angry. Abby had only ever wanted a little excitement in her life; a little freedom. Her friend had found that with the highlander, and though Tarah had been speaking on behalf of her parents—on the behalf of “reason”—she’d felt dirty that night when she’d been forced to separate them. That was why she’d tried to fight Abby’s parents when they’d showed up demanding to know where she was, explaining that she deserved to find happiness and not be seen as an extension to their image within the village. They obviously hadn’t liked that. A few hours later, Doctor Spencer had sent word that she was no longer welcome in his office.
This, however, would be gravely regretted when she sent word back to him that she’d be exposing him for the fraud he was for taking credit for all of her research over the years.
See the good doctor and Abby’s parents figure out how to work around that debacle, she thought as she finished cleaning out her office.
The anger she felt towards Abby’s parents and the “good” doctor extended only that far, however. She didn’t blame Abby and, moreover, she didn’t blame herself. In fact, she was rather proud of both of them. Abby would have her highlander and Tarah… well, she would start over.
And maybe this time she would even fit sleep and fun into her plans.
In the meantime, however, she could at least check on her friend, even if her parents now hated her.
Who was she kidding? Tarah was eager to show the two of them that she was happier with this turn of events.
The walk to Abby’s didn’t take long—benefits of living in a small village, she thought—and she was about to knock when she overheard her mother and father arguing beyond the door about Abby not yet returning home. Frowning at this, she opted not to knock, knowing that they’d likely lie in either case to turn her away, and snuck around the house to check Abby’s bedroom window. On particularly daring nights, her friend had been known to sneak in and out through there, using the ivy that grew along the side of the house and the gapped stonework to scale the wall. The only downside of this was that the window could only ever be opened or closed from the inside, so both Tarah and the household’s more insightful guards knew that, if her bedroom window was open, it was a good sign she’d snuck out. On the rarer occasions that Abby was sneaking in, however, the evidence of her arrival would be marked by some sign of life beyond the glass.
The window was shut and the room beyond it was pitch black.
She’d neither come nor gone.
Which meant she’d never come back from the previous night’s outing!
Something was wrong.
* * *
“ABBY!” Tarah called, shivering at the way her voice carried across the night bathed highlands.
She’d struggled to navigate back to the point where she’d found her friend and the highlander before, but navigate back she had. But she’d found it deserted and lonely. Desperate, she paced the area in ever widening circles as she continued to call out. She blushed to herself as she glanced back towards the log that served as the reminder of the scene she’d walked into, remembering the male Abby had been straddling. The look of passion and possessiveness had stirred Tarah and while she hadn’t been interested due to Abby, she had felt a spark of jealousy that her friend had found a man like that. From all the romance novels she read, highlander romance was still her favorite and the idea that her friend had found one—one who looked to have come right out of the pages of one of her books—had made Tarah feel guilty at feeling jealous of her friend. Abby had always been there for her when no one else stood by her side.
“ABBY!” she shrieked out before dropping her hands to her side and whimpering. “Please! Where are ye?” she tried again, losing hope every second.
“Och! Will ye stop yer hollerin’!” a deep, male voice called behind her. “Yer gonna wake the whole damn mountain!”
The thick burr sent a shiver down Tarah’s body and a warmth spread across her stomach at the sound of his voice, making her feel… something.
Momentarily forgetting everything else, she turned and gasped at the sight of the male that stood before her.
Just how many of ye live in these hills? she thought, suddenly curious what sort of mysteries were concealed behind the scare of the beasts
The male, taller and more vivacious looking than Abby’s highlander, wore a dark green tartan and plaid. His skin, even by moonlight, was noticeably tanner and contrasted perfectly. Tarah caught herself blushing at this—the word “perfect” seeming to cycle over and over in her head along with equally absurd thoughts like “my highlander” and the like—and worked to regain her composure. She failed. His face caught her even more. A pair of multicolored eyes, one green and one blue—heterochromia! How… perfect!—took her in as a series of laugh lines at his temples pursed along with a wide grin. This only made her swoon all the more. While Abby’s male hadn’t had any sign of a smile or humor, this male exuded both confidence and a sense of humor, something that, though she’d never gone so far as to advertise a desire for—not wanting to draw the attention of arrogant jokesters—she’d always secretly been drawn to. His hair was dark and thick, hanging over his shoulders in a slight wave and she had to clench her fists to stop from reaching out and touching it.
Pausing, she realized she was ogling him and bit her lip in embarrassment.
“Like what ye see, eh?” he smirked. “Have yer fill, lass, an’ I’ll have mine.” Then, offering a wink, he said, “There’s plenty more under the plaid, too.”
Tarah trembled as she saw him reaching to undo his kilt and, worse yet, her eyes drifted to catch the sight of what might appear when he did.
“N-no! Stop that!” she shook her head, clearing the thoughts and forcing herself to focus as she glared. “I’m no’ here for ye… o-or for that!”
The male seemed visibly distraught by this and looked away for a moment. “Then what are ye here for?” he asked.
Is he actually pouting? she thought.
“M-my friend,” she confessed. “I’m looking for my friend.”
“And who would that be?” he raised an eyebrow. “No’ many lasses find their way up here, to be honest.”
“Her name’s Abby, she’s got long curly blonde hair, a little shorter—”
“Oh, aye,” the man shrugged. “Broden’s girl.”
Tarah blushed. “Broden? Y-ye mean that rather large, scarred male.”
“He’s me brother. An’ try no’ to mention the scars; he’s a wee bit sensitive about ‘em,” he shrugged. “But, anyways, yea, I know yer friend. She was up here with him a while ago, but she ran off earlier morning. Ma said that Da prob’ly had something to do with it—didn’t sound too pleased ‘bout that, believe me—but”—he shrugged—“she hasn’t been here since.”
“Ran off?” she glared. “Why would she run off?”
“Canna tell ye,” he frowned. “Broden isn’t exactly the talkative type, an’ he’s been sulking the whole day. Maybe yer Abby said or did something to break his heart.”
Tarah glared at him. “Why would Abby run off from him? I barely saw them together and I could tell ye she was head-over-heels—”
“Och!” he rolled his eyes, “Do I look like I know the inner workings of me brother’s love life?” He folded his arms in front of his chest, cursing under his breath. “Figures, first lass in years I genuinely want an’ she’s up here askin’ ‘bout Broden. When’d he get so damn lucky?”
“Can I please see him? I’m worried Abby is in danger,” she pleaded with him.
The man stopped and glanced over at that. “Danger? Why would she be in danger?” he raised an eyebrow. “No, Broden wouldn’t have let her leave if she was in any kind of danger. Sooner let himself get killed than—”
“Please!” Tarah begged him. “Abby isn’t one to exactly talk about her family,” she frowned. “But Abby’s parents are rich—incredibly so—they pretty much run the village. If someone were to get ahold of Abby… they could use her to extort money from her parents.”
She could see the worry in his eyes and frowned at that. Did this male also feel the same way towards Abby as Broden? She looked down, realizing she felt anger at Abby for gaining the attention of this male. Again the words “my highlander” flashed in her mind as a wave of possessiveness coursed through her that she instantly swallowed before looking back up.
“If this is true…” he nodded slowly, “Then only Broden would be able to find her.”
Tarah wasn’t sure how that could be true, but didn’t question it. “Can ye help me then?” she bit her lip.
“What’s yer name, lass?” he asked, seeming suddenly desperate. “I’ll get Broden and we’ll help ye, but at least let me know your name.”
“It’s Tarah,” she said, feeling a smile cross her features despite the panic still coursing through her. “And thank ye!”
“Tarah…” the male seemed to sing the name to himself a moment before he loosed a loud, carnal sound up the mountain.
Jumping at the sudden outburst, Tarah was about to demand what the meaning behind it was before another, similar sound echoed back down. A moment later she heard another, this one far nearer, and another moment later she caught sight of Broden sprinting towards them.
“How in the…?” she marveled.
Abby’s highlander, Broden, stopped and narrowed his gaze down at her, scowling. Tarah looked over, seeing Broden and bit her lip, seeing how sickly he looked. His skin had paled quite a bit from what she saw of him last time and his eyes were bloodshot from an obvious lack of sleep. Tarah tilted her head, curious as to what exactly happened between the two.
“What do ye want?” he demanded.
“It’s Abby,” she explained.
“Abby? What’s wrong with—” he stopped and looked away. “I sent her home earlier. I doona know why ye came all this way.”
“Why on earth would ye send…” Tarah shook her head and glared. “I went to Abby’s house earlier, and she wasn’t there. Her parents were talking about how she hadn’t been home all day,” she sighed and whimpered. “I’m afraid something’s happened to her.”
“She… she’s no’ home?” he narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go back to her place. I’ll get them to answer.”
“Get them to…?” Tarah shook her head. “Weren’t ye listening? They don’t know where Abby is! They might be arseholes, aye, but it’s no’ like they were lying to each other about their daughter no’ being home. I overheard them; they were frantic, hysterical. Ye’d be wasting yer time trying to figure anything out from them!”
Broden snarled. “I’ll be the judge of that!”
“Brother, ye’re sick! Look at ye!” the other male frowned. “I’ll do this in yer place, please.”
“Ye canna, Grant,” Broden said, sounding equally determined and terrified by that fact.
And, if his tone was any indicator—which Tarah was taking it as—it was a fact. Abby had said that the two of them were somehow fated, “destined,” and, in that instant, it truly felt that only this scarred highlander had the means to track her down. Tarah found herself lingering on that word—“tracked”—though she wasn’t sure why.
At that moment, she didn’t care, either.
“I need to do this on my own,” Broden went on, biting his lip. “I know I shouldn’t, but… but I need her. An’ I need to protect her.” Nodding, though it appeared to be more to himself than the others, Broden turned to Tarah and asked, “Can ye lead the way?”
“Of course,” Tarah answered, already starting down towards the village.
The others didn’t hesitate to turn and follow.
“Yer coming with us then?” Broden sighed to the other.
“Aye,” was all the reply offered.
“An’ nothing I say will make a difference?” Broden followed up.
“If she is yer one—an’ I’ve got every reason to believe she is—then she’s practically my sister. If it was ye or any of the others out there, ye couldn’t keep me away,” the other, Grant, shrugged and smirked over at his brother. “So, no, ye willna be changin’ me mind on this.”
Hearing this, Tarah felt a swell of warmth at the resulting admiration she felt for the randy highlander at that moment. While she didn’t want to think on that at that moment, she wondered just what it was about him that she was finding so alluring.
“Thank ye, Grant,” Broden said as they started into the village. “I truly appreciate—” his voice stopped suddenly and, turning at the silence, Tarah saw him hunch down and begin sniffing—actually sniffing!—at the ground. Then, tensing at something, he snarled and stood, taking off at a sprint into the village ahead of the others.
“H-hey!” Tarah called out after him, starting beside Grant in an effort to catch up. “What are ye—”
“Ye were right, lass!” Broden snarled. “Something did happen to Abby!”
Tarah’s eyes widened at that and she watched as Broden continued to navigate the streets, pausing only to sniff the air and then take off once again. As he led them deeper into the village, her breath caught in her lungs.
He was headed straight towards Abby’s house!
* * *
“I doona know… how ye found… yer way here… on yer own,” Tarah called after Broden, panting from the exertion of their run through the village, “but… like I said: they… doona—”
“Save it!” Broden growled. “Abby’s no’ here, aye, but the ones who know where she is were here recently!”
Tarah stared at him for a moment before glancing back at Grant. When neither offered any explanation, she said, “How could ye possibly know that?”
Grant shrugged and said, “Ol’ family trick.”
Broden fought through the panic that coursed through his veins as he stepped up the path to Abby’s home. He had to save her, no matter the case. He should never have let her go. Clenching his eyes shut and remembering the pained look on her face—the last thing he’d seen from her—when he told her to leave. He couldn’t let that be the last thing he’d say to her. He just couldn’t!
As soon as he found her—because he would find her—he would get to his knees and plead for her to come back to him. His father’s worries would either have to be stifled or wiped away altogether, because he wasn’t going to entertain them any longer.
Nobody would keep the two of them apart any longer.
And woe be unto any who tried, he thought as he went to turn the handle of the front door.
Finding it locked—wanting it to be locked—he grinned and pulled his foot back before driving it into the door with the sort of force he’d used to conquer bears in the mountains. Like the bears, the door didn’t stand a chance. Wood cried and tore away from hinges as the expensive-looking slab crashed into the house, being joined by twin cries of surprise from inside as it skidded to a violent stop at the owners’ feet. With a calmness that felt almost surreal to him, Broden stepped inside.
“Who are ye?” the man—Abby’s father, he guessed—demanded while taking a cautious step away, a look of shock and anger flooding his already blanched face.
“Where… is… Abby?” he spoke slowly, trying to hold back the fury he felt. “An’ doona think of lying to me.”
“I doo—”
“Oh stop it, Harry!” the woman—Abby’s mother—pushed past him, snatching a page from his back pocket and holding it out to Broden. “We received this earlier today,” she confessed.
Sneering at the man, Harry, Broden accepted the page and scanned it:
We have your daughter.
Come to the old residents cabin in the Northern woods
with 10,000 pounds.
~The Beasts of the Forests
“Och, the beasts of the forests, eh?” Grant chuckled, reading it over Broden’s shoulder. “An’ here I thought we held that title.”
“Ye?” the mother paled, looking between them, “Ye are the beasts?”
The father scoffed. “Doona look very beastly to me,” he muttered.
“Try me,” Broden growled in his direction, earning another step back. Growling, he crumpled the note and started for the door. “I’m going. An’ this time I’ll be going on my own.”
“An’ who are ye?” the father demanded. “This is a job for the authorities, no’ the likes of ye thre—” his eyes moved to the third and, recognizing Tarah, widened. “Tarah? Ye’re a part of—”
“Stuff it, Harry,” the mother hissed and nodded in Tarah’s direction. “Thank ye for bringing them here,” she said, grabbing a large, leather satchel that jingled slightly as she hoisted it and held it out to Broden. “The ransom,” she explained. “Please… get our daughter back.”
Broden eyed the satchel and sneered. “Why give this to me?” he asked.
The father scowled. “If ye go without the money, they might hurt Abby!”
“An’ if they get the money an’ don’t give Abby back?” Grant challenged him.
The man looked down.
Tarah whimpered. “Then what can we do?”
“Ye will let me fix this,” Broden said, nodding to the mother as he took the satchel and started back for the door.
“Who are ye? How do ye know Abby?” Abby’s mother tilted her head.
“I’m the man who loves yer daughter, madam,” he bowed his head and lifted the satchel. “An’ I intend to bring both this an’ her back, where I’d like to discuss that matter further with ye.”
“An’ who’s going to pay for our door?” Abby’s father demanded.
Broden didn’t bother to lower the satchel as he walked through the door.
“Ye will.”