If Rodrick hadn’t been so relieved to see Caderyn, he would have sent him a slew of blistering curses. “Well, it be about bloody time!” he ground out as he took the reins. The animal snorted again, as if to say he didn’t care how Rodrick felt about his delay.

Muriel bit her lip to keep from laughing at the duo whilst Rodrick studied the scene at the ferry dock. He knew they’d be casting off in a matter of moments. He had no desire to delay their expeditious retreat from Skye.

Two men departed the ferry, looking upset that they hadn’t caught their prey. One of them threw his hands in the air and shook his head. To which the captain said something, most likely along the lines of I told ye so.

Soon, one of the captain’s mates was pulling up the gangplank whilst another was loosening the heavy rope that moored the ferry to the dock.

“Lass, we will be leavin’ now,” Rodrick said as he lifted her onto Caderyn’s back. Climbing up behind her, he clicked his tongue to urge Caderyn forward. A moment later, they were racing down the street, heading toward the ferry.

Their pursuers stood in wide-eyed amazement when they saw Rodrick approaching at a full run. They waved their hands in the air and shouted, hoping to unsettle the horse. They could not have known Caderyn was a well-trained war-horse.

The gangplank had been withdrawn, the ferry unmoored; it was now being pushed away from the dock.

They would have to jump.

* * *

Muriel sucked in a deep breath and held it. There was no time to point out to Rodrick that the gangplank had been removed or to beg him not to do what she was certain he was thinking of doing. Rodrick kicked the sides of his mount before giving out a great war cry.

As they neared the ferry at breakneck speed, she closed her eyes, sucked in another deep breath, and waited to plunge into the cold water. It seemed like her stomach fell away when they leaped into the air. She felt an eternity passed whilst they were suspended in air.

Then she felt them land on the deck of the ferry and skid to an abrupt stop.

Rodrick dismounted first, then was forced to pry her fingers away from the saddle. She’d been holding on with a deathlike grip.

“’Tis all right, lass,” he told her as he forced her fingers away one at a time. “We landed safely.”

Slowly, she opened one eye, then the other. Her breath came out in a great whoosh when she saw for herself they were safely aboard the ferry. As Rodrick helped her down, she saw and heard the men on the pier shouting at them and waving their fists in the air.

Rodrick handed the reins off to someone before helping her to a safer spot near the rear of the ferry. She all but collapsed to the floor amid a pile of crates and sacks of grain.

Her hands began to shake and her teeth to chatter, more from the shock of what had taken place in less than half an hour.

Rodrick soon returned and knelt beside her. “Wheest, lass,” he whispered softly. “Ye be safe now.”

She watched through teary eyes as he removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders. Safe.

How long had it been since she’d felt truly safe? A year or more?

Although she tried valiantly to keep the tears from falling, ’twas an impossible task. “Thank ye,” she told him through chattering teeth.

He smiled warmly and patted her shoulder.

“Does Charles wait fer me on the other side?” she asked as she wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

His smile slowly faded, replaced by a look of sadness and concern.

“Where is Charles?” she asked as her chest grew tight. From the look on his face, she knew.

“I be so sorry, Muriel,” he said.

“Nay,” she cried. “Nay!”

Rodrick drew her into his arms as she wept against his chest.

They stayed there for a long while with night falling, the clouds covering the stars in a blanket of darkness. The winds blew in, bringing with them a light rain that chilled her to her bones.

* * *

Once she had regained some composure she asked what had happened to her brother. Rodrick was reluctant to tell her the truth. He would rather lie to her full out than let her know her brother had betrayed his clan. Deciding not all the details were necessary just yet, he gave her a half-truth.

“Our chief’s wife, Rose Mackintosh, was kidnapped by the Bowies. Charles died during the attack to rescue her.”

Muriel sniffed and wiped her face on the cloak. “He died fighting bravely then?” she asked for clarification’s sake.

Rodrick cleared his throat once before answering. “I was no’ there. I had been injured and was recovering. But I am certain he died fighting.”

If she sensed he wasn’t being completely truthful she made no mention of it. “How did ye ken of me? How did ye ken where to find me?”

“Before he died, he told our chief what had happened to ye, that ye had been kidnapped and were being held fer ransom.”

She nodded once. “I thank ye, Rodrick, fer comin’ fer me. I ken that were Charles here, he would thank ye as well.”

He refused to speak about what Charles would or wouldn’t do.

“Rest now, lass. ‘Twill be a few hours before we reach land.”

* * *

The waves crashing against the ferry, the constant heaving up and down made Muriel sick to her stomach. Exhausted, bruised, and now consumed with grief at learning of her brother’s death – it was all too much. Twice she had to lean over the side to vomit.

Rodrick didn’t know how to truly comfort another person, for he’d kept his own heart well-guarded over the years. Still, he tried, but to no avail.

As he silently watched the lass fight with seasickness and grief, he felt deeply sorry for her. What hell and torment had she gone through these past months? What had Fergus done to her? Those were questions he wasn’t certain he wanted to hear the answers to. Not because he was fearful of the truth or that he might think less of her. Nay, he was fearful he’d leave her in the first village they came to and head back to Skye to kill every last individual who had caused her harm or strife.

And there were too many people who had done both.

Most of his life had been spent around battle-hardened warriors. Men who faced death on a daily basis. Men who fought alongside him in rain, snow, or good weather. They were not the kind of people who shared any tender or gentle sides of themselves.

Therefore, he was at a complete loss about what to do or say to Muriel. He knew not what he could do to take her pain away, but take it away he would. He found himself making that silent promise halfway across the sea, as she cried and vomited and trembled from cold.

Someday, somehow, he would find a way to make her life better.