HIGHLAND PROMISE (THE SONS OF GREGOR MACLEOD)

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Caitlin!"

Caitlin's head whipped up from the wound she re-bandaged on one of Darach's soldiers, and she scanned the MacKenzies' bailey, her heart racing. People chatted, rested, or were busy doing chores. She couldn't see her husband, even though she was sure he'd been the one to call her name. Then the crowd cleared.

There, by the stables, looking so big and bonny atop his horse, a wide smile creasing his face and touching her heart from across the distance.

"Darach!"

It had been four days since she'd last seen him in Fraser's castle, since he'd pulled her back through the window and into his arms. She'd known by the second day he was alive and well, and the Frasers had been defeated with only a few losses to the MacKenzies. They'd taken time to help the innocent victims of war as best they could – releasing prisoners from Fraser's dungeon and freeing the animals from the stables as the keep went up in flames, helping the peaceful members of Clan Fraser who were in need, burning the dead to prevent disease. Then it had been a slow journey back home to accommodate the injured.

She lifted her skirts and ran toward her husband, joy bursting through her body, the pain in her ankle forgotten. After just a few steps, however, she was scooped up from behind and caught in Lachlan's arms. She struggled to free herself, but he tightened his hold.

"You'll damn well sprain it all over again, you daft bat," he said.

"Let me go. It's Darach!"

"I know who it is, but until I pass you over, you're still in my care, and I willna let you run around the bailey like a headless loon."

Caitlin glared at him. He glared back and carried her down the hill toward her husband. She looked over at him, his beloved faced crinkled in amusement as he watched them.

"Trouble, Lachlan?" he asked.

"Hah! Is water wet? She's bloody impossible. And to think you wanted to saddle me with her for good. She willna sleep, she willna rest her foot, so I made her a crutch, and she let your hounds chew it. I made her another one, and it floated away in the lock. The loch! What in bloody hell was she doing in the loch?"

Caitlin was sure Lachlan had deliberately slowed his pace just to torture her. Or maybe so he could draw out the telling of her misdeeds. Not that she'd done anything wrong. She didn't give the stupid crutch to the dogs, they took it when her back was turned and ended up enjoying it far more than she ever had. Going to the loch had been Oslow's idea, although afterward he'd denied it, saying she'd misinterpreted his words. How could 'the cool water will help with the swelling' be misunderstood? And it had helped her ankle even though she'd lost the other crutch when she'd tried to nudge a duckling in the water back toward its mother.

Lachlan stopped about six feet away from Darach and continued berating her. "To top it off, she rode Cloud whene'er my back was turned. What if that bloody, moody nag had thrown her? She could barely even hold the reins with her sore arm."

Caitlin snorted derisively. Her arm may have been sore, but Cloud had been particularly gentle with her because of her injuries. No other horse would have done that. She struggled again to get free. When Lachlan wouldn't put her down, she found bare skin and pinched.

"Ow! Christ Almighty!" he said.

Caitlin glowered at him but inside she wore a smug smile. "Language! Do you want the Devil to come a knocking?"