My Daring Highlander by Vonda Sinclair Page B

“Come back, you bastards!” Keegan yelled. He wanted to finish
the three of them off.
    Once they’d disappeared from sight
like terrified rabbits, he glanced back toward where Dirk and the
other men were fighting.
    Despite his injury, Dirk was still
slashing and thrusting.
    His blade sliced McMurdo’s shoulder
and the older man jumped back. Then he fled.
    Twenty feet away, he turned back and
yelled for the other men to retreat. He obviously knew the outlaws
were on the losing side of the skirmish now, even with the
reinforcements they’d found along the way.
    Rebbie chased after McMurdo, but the
old man was quicker than he looked. A few of the other brigands
fled to the left, down an embankment and through the
bushes.
    “Is Dirk hurt?” Isobel demanded,
sidling up to him.
    Since the outlaws were gone, he could
reveal the truth. Still, he grabbed her arm so she wouldn’t go
running out there too soon. “An arrow struck his calf.”
    “What? Oh good lord!” She tried to
jerk away from him. “Unhand me, Keegan.”
    Dirk limped in their direction, his
face red, eyes wild and jaw clenched.
    Keegan released Isobel. Making sure
Seona was beside him for her own safety, he moved toward Dirk.
Isobel fussed over him, crying.
    “Calm yourself, Isobel. ’Tis naught to
worry over. Merely a flesh wound,” Dirk said, his voice rough. He
was obviously trying to hide his pain.
    “How do you feel?” Keegan asked
him.
    “I’ll live.”
    “How will we remove it?” Isobel
asked.
    “Rebbie will do it. Go over there with
the ladies so you don’t have to watch. I don’t want you to pass
out.”
    “Are you mad? I’ll not be passing
out.”
    “Keegan, make her stay with Lady
Seona.”
    “Lady Isobel.” Keegan motioned toward
the boulders.
    “Don’t make the man have to carry you,
Isobel,” Dirk said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ve had
far worse injuries than this.”
    She huffed, her eyes glistening with
tears, then proceeded back toward the boulder with
Seona.
    Keegan followed. “He will be well, I’m
certain.”
    “But he could get infection and
fever,” she said, trying to suppress her sobs.
    Behind them, Dirk growled and Isobel
turned to run back toward him. Keegan caught her arm and ushered
her once again toward Seona. “Removing the arrow will be painful,
no doubt,” Keegan said. He’d never been shot with an arrow so
couldn’t say from experience, but it had to hurt something awful.
He glanced back to see Dirk lying on the rocky ground and Rebbie
knelt over him, working on his leg. The two had fought battles on
the continent together and had been treating each other’s wounds
for years.
    “I want to kill Haldane and his
damnable archer,” Isobel muttered, striding forward, a glower on
her face.
    “As do I,” Keegan said.
    Isobel and Seona sat together on one
of the rocks beside the wide-eyed and pale Lady Patience, while
Keegan and the other guards kept watch for returning outlaws.
Several men stood around Dirk, mostly blocking Isobel’s view of his
bloody leg. He could certainly understand Dirk’s need to keep her
shielded from most of it, although she had never seemed squeamish
to him.
    He was glad to see she took some
comfort from having Seona by her side as she watched the
proceedings from a distance. Seona was also a bit pale. Her worried
gaze met his.
    “He will recover quickly,” Keegan
said. How could he not? He was one of the strongest and most
resilient men Keegan knew.
    “Aye, he will,” Seona said, putting an
arm around Isobel’s shoulders and comforting her. “All will be
well.”
    A quarter hour later, Dirk’s calf was
bound in linen cloths, most likely someone’s clean shirt that had
been ripped up, and most of the bleeding had stopped. Rebbie had
poured whisky on it along with some powdered healing herbs he
carried with him. Dirk pushed himself to his feet, though his face
was ashen.
    Isobel ran to him and slipped an arm
around his waist. “Lean on me. Don’t