Page 74 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

“Aye, I feel fine.”

“And is Kenna feeling better?” Florence asked eagerly. “I’d hoped she would be with ye.”

“She is feeling better, but she needs more rest. She’ll probably be on her feet later today.”

“What did the healer say was wrong with the lass?” his father asked, looking down his nose at Rob, surely gaging how a sudden illness would influence his winter preparations.

“She’s pregnant,” Rob replied, doing his best to say it with a touch of cool indifference.

He had worked hard to build his reputation in front of his clan; he couldn’t start giggling and grinning like a wee lad now.

Florence stared at him from across the table, speechless.

Hugh coughed and sputtered on his drink.

Even his father, usually so undaunted, stopped midway through slicing a bit of honeyed ham.

The quiet lasted no more than a few beats before Florence suddenly leaped to her feet with a loud whoop, calling all of the hall’s attention to her as she rushed around the table and threw herself into Rob’s arms.

“She is pregnant? Really? Ye better not be lying to me, Robert Fraser, or I will make ye regret the day ye were born!”

“If ‘tis a lie, ye’ll have to discuss it with the healer, not I,” Rob said, realizing that it was becoming harder for him to keep a silly grin repressed.

The few groups closest to the head table began to share in the congratulations, and soon it had spread through the entire room like wildfire, the quiet murmurs of morning conversation growing to loud cheers and toasts on behalf of the future Laird or Lady of Lovat.

Rob laughed, despite himself, wishing that Kenna was here to share this moment.

“Well, son.” His father clapped him on the shoulder. “‘Tis good to hear that ye had it in ye.”

“Thank ye,” Rob said a little hesitantly, not sure if he should accept the compliment or not. “Well, if I don’t have Hugh coming along to check these traps with me, I think I had better go.”

Rob rode out of the castle and into the forest with more liveliness than he had felt in a long time. Everything in his life was starting to align. Kenna loved him, and he loved her. He had a child on the way. The sun was shining for his day of hunting. Even Hugh had seemed to be in better spirits that morning than he had been the day before. Rob could think of nothing that deserved to dull his mood.

That was, of course, only because he was choosing to ignore the archer.

I wonder how many times I am going to chase him down in my dreams, Rob thought, thinking back to his dream from a few nights ago and how far behind the archer he had fallen.

Whether he liked it or not, his failure to catch him had led to what may well be a lifetime of looking over his shoulder, wondering if he or Kenna were supposed to be the ones who died that night. And, if so, did the archer still want them dead?

Rob sighed and shook his head as he leaned over to check the first rabbit trap.

Empty. Just my luck.

Hadn’t he been happy just a few minutes ago? Hadn’t he been carefree and ready to take on the world?

As Rob walked toward the second of the traps, he couldn’t help but think back on everything he knew about the archer. He had been quick, an excellent navigator of the woods, and a bit smaller than Rob in stature.

Oh, and he had gold on him.It was a detail he wished Kenna had remembered to tell him at the time. For all he knew, that flash of gold that she had seen would have been the key to finding wherever that bastard had hidden that night.

Rob reached the second rabbit trap, which was tucked away in a small crag. Rob did his best to fish it out, but try as he might, he couldn’t reach it. He was just too bulky. Hugh was always the one who had been able to get into these small places.

When they were young, Hugh used to go sprinting into the woods; Rob hot on his tail. Then, happening so quick that Rob didn’t even understand how it had happened, he would just disappear. Rob figured out years later that it was all a trick. Hugh knew exactly where all the best crags were hidden in the hills around Dounie. He would run toward them and slip down into them, squeezing his small frame into a tight bit of the rock face before anyone would catch up and see him hiding away. He had been a master of it and had never been caught by anyone unfamiliar with the stunt.

Rob stiffened, his hand still an inch away from his rabbit trap.

“No, it couldn’t be,” he said to himself.

Had that been how the archer had gotten away? By not getting away at all? Just slipping down into some crag?

Impossible.

The move was something that he only ever heard of Hugh doing. One’s size had to be just right; one’s body able to move in just the right way. One had to know the landscape and which crags could accommodate them.

Hugh canna have done it. He does not ken that forest.

Except, Rob comprehended with a sinking feeling, he does.

He and Rob had ridden through as much of it as possible when they split off from the Queen’s retinue. Hugh had even gone off on his own a couple of times that day, giving him plenty of time to check for decent hiding places.

The answer was in front of him, but Rob didn’t want to see it. Instead, his mind started to spin for alternative options, to try and devise some logical explanation that ultimately cleared Hugh’s name. Nothing came.

All that did come was a memory of Hugh putting on his golden ring for good luck.

“Damn thing hasna brought me as much luck as it ought these days,” Hugh’s voice echoed back to him.

“Shite,” Rob said, taking off toward his horse at a sprint.