Chapter 1
Conran heard his brother Rory approaching before he ever spoke. The man had no idea how to move quietly. He stomped through the woods, snapping branches underfoot like it was his task in life to scare away all wildlife. He’d be murder on a hunt, Conran thought. Which was why he and his other brothers never took him with them when they went on one. Not that Rory would be interested in accompanying them anyway. He was the odd man out in the family—a healer rather than a warrior. Although, to be fair, he had been working out in the practice field of late, building up his strength and skills, he admitted to himself as Rory finally stumbled out into the clearing and greeted him with the question, “How did ye do?”
Conran turned from his saddlebag and stepped back to reveal the way it bulged. “I found loads of snapdragon, catnip, willow, feverfew and celandine poppy fer ye. Almost too much for me bag.”
“Celandine poppy?” Rory echoed, and shook his head with a smile. “Look at ye. Ye’re even learning the right kinds o’ weeds I need.”
Conran grimaced and turned back to continue trying to close his overfull saddlebag. “Aye, well, I’ve accompanied ye on enough o’ yer calls to heal others that I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
“Aye, ye have,” Rory agreed, crossing the clearing to join him. “More than I expected. Ye always seem to ken what I’ll need ere I ask fer it when ye accompany me to visit the ill and ailing. Ye’re something o’ a natural at healing, brother.”
Conran shook his head with amusement. “Dougall said the same thing about me and his horses, and Niels said it about his sheep and wool. The truth is, I’m just good at helping out me brothers. It’s made me a jack-o’-all-trades.”
“Ye’re selling yerself short, Conny,” Rory said solemnly. “I think the truth is that while each o’ us is very good at one thing, ye’re good at many.”
“Hmm. As I said, a jack-o’-all-trades. Sadly, I’m no’ a master of any though.” Finally managing to close the saddlebag, he sighed his relief and then glanced to Rory. “So, do ye feel like a stop at the waterfalls to clean up ere returning? I swear I’ve weeds and bugs up me butt from traipsing through the bushes and brambles.”
“Nay.” Rory shook his head with apparent regret. “I still need valerian and yarrow, and then I must stop in to see the innkeeper’s daughter. She’s fit to burst and likely to have her bairn any day now. I want to be sure all is well with her. Ye go ahead though. I ken ye planned to leave fer Drummond ere the nooning meal. I appreciate ye taking the time to help me search out medicinals first.”
“Always happy to help,” Conran said with a shrug, and then assured him, “I’ll have a quick wash in the falls, and then ride back to the keep to drop off the weeds before heading out.”
“Thank ye. I appreciate it,” Rory assured him as he mounted up.
“Me pleasure, brother.” Conran watched him ride off, and then withdrew the sword from his belt and affixed it to his horse, before removing his plaid and shirt. He was looking forward to a nice wash under the falls. Truly, it felt like he had bugs crawling all over his naked skin under the plaid he wore. Conran knew that wasn’t the case, and the feeling was just a result of being hot and sweaty in a wool plaid. Wading through the bugs and sending them flying from the bushes and plants he was harvesting hadn’t helped though. Aye, a nice cleanup in the falls was going to be a true pleasure. It would make a new man of him.
“Well, there’s his horse. Now, where is he?” Evina asked, her gaze sliding around the clearing and then to the river and waterfalls, which appeared empty.
“Mayhap he left his steed here while he searches for weeds.”
Evina narrowed her eyes in consideration at the suggestion from the man sitting astride the horse on her right. Donnan. He’d been the first at Maclean for fourteen years. There was no one she’d trust more to accompany her on this trip, except perhaps the man on her left, her cousin Gavin.
When she didn’t comment, Donnan pointed out, “The lad did say Rory Buchanan was out gathering weeds for his healing work. The area around here is rich with various plants. Mayhap he leaves his horse here as a main base and returns occasionally with his finds.”
Evina eyed the bulging saddlebag hanging from the side of the handsome beast across the clearing, and nodded. It seemed a good possibility. Although it did look to her as if he must be nearly finished with his weed-gathering expedition. In fact, unless he had a second bag that he was carrying with him, he should be done. There didn’t look to her to be room for even one more leaf, stem or root in the bag.
“Or no’,” Gavin murmured quietly.
Raising her eyebrows, Evina glanced to her cousin and then followed his direction to the water when he nodded that way.
At first, she didn’t see anything to explain his comment. There was nothing in the river itself. It wasn’t until Evina turned her gaze to the waterfall again that she saw what he’d spotted. The cliff the water fell from was a good twenty feet up. The water rained down in a white, frothy torrent that hid the rocks and anything else behind the sheet of water, and that was what she’d seen the first time. Now there appeared to be an elbow poking out of the water and someone moving around under the spray.
“Looks like we’ve found him,” Donnan said with amusement. “Do we wait for him to come out?”
Evina considered the matter briefly, but that didn’t really seem an option to her. Rory Buchanan might rush through his cleaning and be out quickly, but he could also piddle about in the falls for a good long time, but either way, every moment they wasted was one more during which her father lay dying.
“Nay. We fetch him out,” she said finally. “And we’ll no’ take nay for an answer.”
“Right,” Donnan said quietly, and then glanced past her to Gavin.
Following his gaze, Evina saw that the younger man was already dismounting. Once on the ground, her cousin quickly removed his sword and boots. When he reached for the pin of his plaid, Evina turned her head away and stared at the waterfalls instead to give him privacy. She used to change Gavin’s nappies and give him baths as a boy, but he wasn’t a child anymore. Besides, while she’d often been accused of being less than a lady, even she wouldn’t look on a bare-arsed man.
At least, not on purpose, Evina qualified when her gaze landed not on an elbow protruding from the falls now, but on a bare arse. That was all. The Buchanan had obviously turned under the water and bent over, presumably to wash his lower legs or feet, because while she could now see the outline of his legs through a very thin layer of foamy water, his behind was the only thing out of the spray and on display.
And a fine rounded rump it was too, Evina noted before movement drew her attention to Gavin as he headed determinedly toward the water. She looked away, but not before catching a glimpse of his back, legs and behind. Evina had always thought her cousin a well-built young man, and he did have a nice muscular chest and shoulders. He also had fine legs. Despite that though, he couldn’t compare with the Buchanan when it came to rumps. Gavin fell short when compared to the only part of the man she could really see. Her cousin’s behind was flat in comparison to the one sticking out of the waterfall.