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“Let’s go,” Alaric hissed. “Gannon is waiting with the horses.”

They ducked and ran toward the stone skirt in the distance. Alaric tossed up another rope and the hook hit the stone ledge at the top with a clink. Wasting no time, Alaric scrambled up the wall and lay along the top, his hand extended down for Mairin.

Ewan hoisted her high over his head and urged her to reach for Alaric’s hand. Their fingers glanced off each other before Alaric finally captured her hand and slid his fingers down to grasp her wrist.

Ewan pushed upward and Alaric pulled her up with incredible strength.

“Grab onto the ledge and pull yourself over,” Alaric hissed.

As he swung her up, she lunged for the top of the wall and rolled up so she was head to head with Alaric.

“Listen to me,” Alaric said. “Sit up and straddle the wall. As quietly as you can, scoot back until you give Caelen enough room to scramble over. He’ll go down and then you’ll drop down next. I’ll stay up to help Ewan over. His hands are too damaged to climb up another rope.”

With some hesitation, she swung one leg over so she straddled the wall and quickly pushed herself back until there was enough space for Caelen to climb the wall.

Moments later, he swung over the top and then dropped down on the other side.

“Take my hand and I’ll lower you over the side. Listen for Caelen and when he tells you, let go. He’ll catch you,” Alaric instructed her.

Swallowing back her fear, she grasped Alaric’s hand and slid over the side. She dropped, her feet scraping the side of the wall to slow her momentum. Alaric caught her wrist and nearly pulled her arm from its socket.

“Let go,” Caelen called up. “I’ve got you, Mairin.”

She closed her eyes, kicked away from the wall, and let go of Alaric’s hand. She needn’t have worried. Caelen didn’t even stagger under her weight as he caught her against his chest. Still she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him with fierce gratitude for not allowing her to fall.

He gently pried her arms away from his neck and set her down on her feet. Her knees buckled and she clutched at his hand so she wouldn’t fall.

“You’re all right now,” Caelen said in a low, reassuring voice. He caught her to his side to steady her as they waited for Ewan and Alaric to descend.

Ewan dropped down first and Mairin threw herself into his arms. She hugged him so fiercely that he likely couldn’t draw breath, but she didn’t care. She was in his arms. He was taking her from Duncan Cameron.

“Come,” Alaric urged when he dropped to the ground.

“Gannon is waiting with the horses.”

They raced for the cover of the trees. Just inside the forest, Gannon stood with their horses and Ewan urged her toward his steed.

Alaric and Caelen swung into the saddles. Cormac was already astride his horse and Gannon mounted his. Ewan took to his saddle in one quick motion and then he simply reached down, plucked Mairin off the ground, and settled her in front of him.

She laid her head on Ewan’s chest and slipped her arm around his waist. Tears fell freely now, but she did nothing to distract him from his concentration. If Cameron discovered her gone, he would pursue with the might of his entire army, and Ewan would be slowed by bearing her with him.

Only when they were miles away did she turn her face upward. “Ewan?”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Not now, sweeting. We’ll talk when we reach McCabe land. We aren’t stopping until we reach our border. Sleep now.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how he thought she’d sleep now, but before they’d gone another mile, her exhaustion caught up with her. After so many nights of not sleeping for fear of what Duncan might do, she was now safe in her husband’s arms. She laid her head back on his broad chest and allowed the steady motion of the horse to lull her into sleep.

Ewan rode with one hand holding the reins, the other wrapped solidly around his wife. He set a grueling pace that his men were only too happy to keep. They would not stop to sleep or eat until they reached their border.

CHAPTER 37

True to Ewan’s word, he didn’t stop for more than a few minutes until they were just outside the border of McCabe land. They pushed through the nights, the pace that Ewan set inhuman.

Mairin rode with Ewan, and when she wasn’t sleeping, Ewan was feeding her from the burlap sack attached to his saddle. His men looked gray with exhaustion but no one offered a single complaint. The journey was eerily silent, with neither Caelen nor Alaric offering conversation. They were too focused on making sure they weren’t pursued.

“Ewan, I have need to stop,” she whispered.

“Can you wait just a few more miles?” he asked. “We’ll be on McCabe land soon.”

She grimaced. “I’m afraid not. The child I carry makes it hard to hold it in.”

His smile was fleeting as he called a halt. He eased her down from the saddle, and she nearly went down in a heap. Gannon was there to catch her and she nearly wept in gratitude when he offered her a reassuring smile.

To Gannon’s utter shock, she threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. His hands went up and he stammered as he tried to ask her what she was about.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She pulled away and smiled at him.

“For what, my lady?” he asked in confusion.

“For coming for me.”

She turned then and went in search of a private area to relieve herself.

Ewan smiled and watched as his wife ducked behind a tree in the distance. She had stunned Gannon with her gratitude. If he had to guess, all his men would be the recipients of her affection before it was over with.

A moment later, Mairin returned and Ewan absorbed the vision of her holding a protective hand over her small, round belly. It staggered him just how relieved he was to have her home, or nearly so. He’d pushed his men hard, afraid that Duncan would pursue them and Mairin would be caught solidly in the middle as they would do battle. He wanted her safe. He wanted her far removed from the inevitable bloodshed between him and Cameron. The bastard’s days were numbered, and no matter that Ewan defied the king himself, he’d avenge his wife.

As he was reaching down to pull Mairin into the saddle, he realized that he no longer sought vengeance for the wrong done to his father and their clan. He sought vengeance for a beautiful lass who had more hurt in her blue eyes than he ever wanted to see in a lifetime.

“We’re nearly home,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned and looked up at him with sadness and pleading in her eyes. “As soon as we cross over to McCabe land, can you send your men ahead? I must talk with you, Ewan. ’Tis important that I do so before we arrive at the keep. Once we ride into the courtyard, we’ll be pulled this way and that. We have to settle this. We must.”

He touched her face and tried to smooth the lines of worry from her brow. What on earth worried her so? Dread gripped his heart at the depth of sadness in her gaze. He prayed for the strength to endure the telling of it all. “Aye, lass, we’ll talk.”

An hour later, he reined in his horse and then motioned the others to go ahead.

Caelen and Alaric approached on their horses and stopped beside Ewan and Mairin.

Alaric frowned. “I don’t like leaving you alone, Ewan.”

“We’re far enough onto our land now. I have need for some time alone with my wife. We’ll be along in a while. Go ahead and announce that I’m bringing her safely home.”

With reluctance, Alaric and Caelen rode ahead. Their pace picked up as they started down the mountain toward the last stretch home. Soon the others followed suit, spurring their mounts to a gallop and then a run.

Shouts filled the air. Whoops and cries of triumph filled Ewan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but smile. But when he looked down at Mairin, her eyes were troubled and filled with grief.