head as Ali knelt at the edge of the fragrant garden, careful y pul ing at the herbs and dropping them into her basket.
“I’m not,” she said, but she was. Rory had promised to love her long and hard, and made good on his promise ten times over. The ful ness between her legs, the dul ache that matched the one in her heart, were lasting reminders of what had passed between them. She had slept the sleep of the dead, missing the chance to tel him good-bye, and she was sure he’d done it on purpose.
“I wish someone would have woken me before Rory and Alasdair left,” she groused, sweeping her hair over her shoulder.
“Och, wel , the laird didna’ want you to be disturbed. As for Laird MacDonald, we did try to wake you, but it did us 290
no good. He said he’d be checkin’ in on you in a day or so, on the trek back to Armadale.”
“Good, I—” She turned her head at the sound of some
one yel ing off in the distance. As the shouts grew louder, she heard the panic in their voices and dread coiled in the pit of her stomach. Ali came quickly to her feet and hur
ried after Mrs. Mac to the far side of the keep. Cook, the girls from the kitchen, and several of the men Rory had left behind, raced in the direction of the loch.
“What’s goin’ on?” Mrs. Mac yel ed to them.
“’Tis wee Jamie. He’s fal in’ into the loch.”
“Always into mischief that one is,” Mrs. Mac grumbled as they quickened their pace. A woman’s anguished cry rent the air and an icy chil slithered down Ali’s spine. Standing on the rocky ledge above the loch she saw Janet Cameron being held back by two men while old lady Cameron and members of the clan formed a protective ring around the hysterical woman. A dark-haired man Ali didn’t recognize waded to shore with the lifeless body of the little boy in his arms. She scram
bled down the bank and shouldered her way through the throng of people, young and old alike. A gnarled hand grabbed her by the arm. “There’s nothin’
ye can do, my lady. He’s gone.” A heavy sadness quaked in the old man’s voice. Janet Cameron col apsed, screaming, tearing at her glossy black curls.
Pushing aside her personal feelings, Ali shook off the man’s hand. She had to reach Jamie. Once she did, she quickly placed her lips to the little boy’s blue-tinged mouth and puffed in a rescue breath. Ignoring the gasps of horror at her back, Ali wrenched the unconscious child from the man and lowered him to the ground. She rol ed Jamie onto his stomach. Gently turning his head, she pressed firmly on his back several times and LORD OF THE ISLES
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watched in relief as water gushed from his mouth. Turning him on his back, she checked for his pulse. Not finding one, she tried to remain calm and began CPR. Between breaths, she yel ed, “Bring me a blanket! We have to get him out of these clothes.” Janet was quickly at her side. With trembling hands she removed her son’s sodden shirt and pants.
After what seemed like hours to Ali, but was in reality only minutes, Jamie’s slight body arched and he threw up. His lids fluttered open and he let out a soft moan. Ali wrapped him in a blanket and motioned for one of the men. “We have to get him to the keep.” When the man simply stared at her open-mouthed, she shouted,
Jamie was alive, but she didn’t want to lose him to hypo
thermia.
His mother sobbed, and Ali tugged her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her. “He’s going to be al right, Janet. I promise,” she murmured as the man lifted Jamie into his arms. Ali prayed it was a promise she could keep.
“Thank ye, my lady, thank ye,” Janet repeated over and over while the crowd stood motionless in stunned disbelief. Connor reached for Ali and helped her and Janet up the rocky embankment. Behind her she could hear voices rise in excited whispers. “He’s alive, wee Jamie lives.”
And then the ominous word echoed in her ear. “Witch.”
Chapter 25
Not more than a mile from Dunvegan, the threatening skies Mrs. Mac promised would amount to nothing, opened up. Ali pul ed the MacLeod plaid over her head, and scowled at the woman who rode beside her through the teeming rain.
Mrs. Mac chuckled. “Och, wel , a little water never hurt a body. Besides, yer a highlander now—best you get used to it.”
The older woman’s words warmed Ali’s heart, but didn’t do much for her frozen fingers clutching Bessie’s reins. She wished the rest of the clan felt the same way, but saving Jamie had destroyed what progress she thought she’d made. At least the little boy was wel on the road to recovery and, in the end, that was al that mattered. Mari, riding ahead with Connor, glanced over her shoul
der. “Do ye wish to return to the keep, my lady?”
Ali forced a smile, determined not to put a damper on Mari’s excitement at visiting her family. And the last place Ali wanted to be right now was wandering the hal s of Dunvegan, missing Rory. “Och, wel , a wee bit of rain never hurt a body,” she mimicked.
Connor’s snort of amusement was lost in a loud rumble 294
of thunder. Ali pul ed back on Bessie’s reins, realizing it wasn’t thunder after al , but the pounding of horses’
