Just as Conall moved past Lovey to come up on the boar’s side, the boar charged forward, forcing Lovey to scramble backward down the steps as he tried to hold on to the sow, who was still shaking her head wildly. Off balance and weary, the wolf wasn’t able to keep his hold and his teeth tore from the snout, snapping together with a clack.
Free now, the sow turned on Conall. He immediately drove his sword into the beast. Claray suspected no one was terribly surprised when the animal stumbled, fell, rolled down a step or two onto its back and then back onto its front where it then bounced back up to go after Conall again. Fortunately, the other men had reached and surrounded her by then and added their swords to the chore of stopping the animal.
Even with the four swords in it, the boar didn’t drop at once. The men all backed away a step or two and watched warily as the sow staggered a step closer to Conall. It then just stood there panting for a moment, shook its head and then stumbled, fell and rolled down the steps toward them.
Claray glanced around when someone grabbed her arm and dragged her backward. Her wide eyes landed with surprise on Laird MacKay’s first, Gilly. She hadn’t even known he was there too. But apparently he and Machar had remained behind to guard the women, for the two of them had pulled her, Lady MacKay and Kenna back out of the way.
She flashed him a small smile of appreciation, and then turned, intending to check on the sow, but found herself staring at Conall’s chest. He’d followed the pig down the stairs and was taking her arm to usher her away from the scene.
“Is it dead?” she asked, trying to glance over her shoulder.
“Aye. ’Tis dead, ye’re no’ mending it,” Conall said grimly, scooping her up when she tripped over a vine. He carried her some fifty feet to the corner of the keep before setting her down. “Ye’re to stay away from the keep until we clear it out.”
“But—”
“Ye can go around back and see if aught is left o’ the gardens and orchards,” he continued over her protest. “But I want the men to check inside first to be sure there are no bandits or other wild animals about.” Pausing, he bent to give her a quick, hard kiss, and then straightened and ordered, “Wait here fer the men to tell ye ’tis safe to go in.”
Conall started to turn away then, but paused when he saw Lovey had followed and was sitting beside her. Nodding at the animal, he gave it a pat, and said gruffly, “Good wolf.”
Then he was gone, rushing back past Lady MacKay and Kenna as they approached with Laird MacKay escorting them. Claray could tell the man was talking, but it was only when they got closer that she could hear enough to know that he was giving his wife and daughter much the same lecture as Conall had given her. It seemed they would be looking at the gardens next.
Chapter 17
“With a little pruning, I think the orchard should recover well enough,” Lady MacKay commented. “At least the apple and pear trees. A lot of the cherry trees have died though.”
Claray nodded, her hand moving absently down Lovey’s back as her gaze took in the overgrown orchard. The apple trees were gray and mossy, with withered leaves. She suspected if the pruning didn’t get done before the fruit started to show, the apples would be misshapened and probably over small. But as Lady MacKay said, some pruning should fix that.
The problem was, from what she’d seen during the tour of the gardens and orchard with Kenna and her mother, that there was so much to do. The herb garden still had some herbs growing wild, but really needed to be cleared out and replanted. She couldn’t even tell what vegetables used to be in the vegetable garden, though she’d pulled up a baby carrot or two and what might have been a potato. She needed to weed it, and sort out if anything could be saved, but suspected it would just be faster to replant that as well. Now here was more work to be done. And that didn’t include the keep itself, which she suspected would be a monstrous undertaking.
She was beginning to feel more than a little overwhelmed at the tasks ahead of her. It wasn’t like she had an army of servants to help her. In fact, Claray realized suddenly, she didn’t have any servants at all!
And that wasn’t all she didn’t have. Conall had dragged her off with just the gown on her back, her horse and Lovey.
“Are you all right, dear?” Lady MacKay queried gently.
When Claray turned panicked eyes her way, concern immediately filled her expression. “Come,” she said, urging her to a small stone wall that ran along the orchards. “Sit down here and take deep breaths.”
Claray collapsed onto the wall, and rested her hand on Lovey when he lay his head on her knee. She then tried to take deep breaths, but was a little alarmed to find she couldn’t seem to catch her breath at all. It was like someone was choking her and blocking the air.
She heard Kenna ask, “Is she all right?” but it sounded like it was coming from far away.
“What’s happening?”
The question was asked in a sharp male voice that Claray was certain was Conall’s. It made her redouble her efforts to calm down as she listened to the drone of voices around her. After a moment, she thought she actually might be succeeding, and that was when Conall sat down next to her, drew her into his arms and kissed her.
All that breath Claray had finally drawn into her body was expelled almost at once as she melted into him and sighed into his mouth. Conall’s lips firmed out in what she thought was a smile, and then he deepened the kiss briefly, before easing away. He kissed her forehead gently, and then pressed her head to his chest, the words rumbling in his chest under her ear as he assured her, “All will be well. I ken it seems a lot, but everything can all be repaired relatively quickly. All will get done.”
Rather than be reassured, Claray moaned at the reminder of what had distressed her and pulled back to eye him with dismay as she asked, “How?”
When he blinked at her in surprise, she pointed out, “I have no servants to help whip this place into shape, no clothes to wear but what I have on, no food to feed you, our guests or anyone else, no medicinals if anyone gets hurt, and I highly doubt there is a single stick o’ usable furniture in the keep. We’ve no linens, no—”
“Breathe,” Conall interrupted, and she just caught a glimpse of his alarm at her outburst before he pressed her back to his chest and thumped her back like he was burping a baby. Voice gruff, he assured her again, “’Twill be fine. Yer father was arranging fer yer clothes, medicinals and other things to be packed and sent on a wagon after us with an escort. He expected they’d arrive a week behind us at the latest. And I did bring ye a couple o’ spare gowns fer the meantime.”
“Ye did?” she asked, pulling back to eye him with surprise.
“Aye. When yer father went to fetch the priest I went into the keep, found a maid and asked her to pack a couple o’ yer gowns in a bag and bring ’em down fer me. She did and I took it out and hung it from me horse right away so I would no’ forget them in the morning,” he explained quietly, and then added, “Ye were in the kitchens with yer cousin Alick at the time, else I’d have suggested ye do it yerself. But I heard the two o’ ye in there talking with yer cook about food fer everyone, so just had the maid do it.”