The stream felt lusciously cold on her bare toes. Raising her skirt, she inched in until the water lapped at her feet and then her ankles. She wandered along for a few minutes, keeping a hopeful eye out for the dark green notched leaves of water betony as she skipped stones across to the other bank. The burn smelled fresh and enticing. Bunching her skirt in one hand, she bent to scoop a palmful of water with the other and took a deep, refreshing drink.
When she looked up, it was into the beady black eyes of a wild boar.
Caithren’s heart paused, then skittered before beating again. The beast stood a goodly distance away, perhaps twenty or thirty feet, eyeing her malevolently. She took a step back, pitched forward and had to catch herself from tumbling. The bottom of the stream wasn’t the smooth slope she’d been expecting. It dropped off toward the center.
The boar took a step forward.
“J-Jason?” she stuttered ineffectively, afraid to yell and provoke the animal. She stepped back again, more gingerly this time. The hem of her skirt dipped into the water, and she hiked it higher and tucked it into her belt.
Her hand went up to grasp her amulet. The smooth, polished emerald felt solid and reassuring in her clenched fingers. But the stone’s protective powers didn’t seem to be in force. Staring at her unblinkingly, the boar came two steps closer.
Her heart pounding, she reached her other hand into her pocket, her fingers closing on the grip of Jason’s little pistol. Slowly she pulled it out and cocked the flintlock.
At the distinctive click, the boar moved again. She would swear his eyes narrowed.
“Jason? Are you nearby?” Her hand shook as she raised the barrel. “S-stay back,” she ordered in the most demanding voice she could muster.
Ignoring her command, the boar came closer.
“Jason!” she wailed.
Her breath was coming in panicky gasps. The boar took another step. “Stay back!” she screamed. “Keep away from me, you mawkit beast!”
But it wouldn’t listen, and Jason wasn’t coming to her rescue. When the boar came yet closer, she closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.
The resulting bang! left her heart in her mouth. The pistol’s kick sent her sprawling on her bottom in the cold burn, and the boar charged splashing into the water, straight at her. She scrambled to get up, but her feet skidded on the muddy streambed, and the pistol slipped out of her grasp, plunging to the bottom.
Just as she was sure she was about to die, the animal collapsed.
The silvery blade of a sword flashed in the sun, jammed between its shoulder blades.
Shuddering in both horror and relief, Caithren sat in the water, feeling a sudden warmth as the beast’s blood spread in red ribbons beneath the surface. Her gaze was riveted to the motionless boar where its hairy back made a hump in the shallow stream.
Jason waded to her side and reached a hand to pull her up. She stood there, dripping, her hands clenching her crossed arms in a futile attempt to control the shaking.
“It wouldn’t have attacked you if you hadn’t shot,” he said calmly.
“B-but he wouldn’t stop.” Her teeth chattered, although the day was no less hot than before. “He was coming towards me.”
“At a walk, no? He was only curious.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Boars don’t attack people unless they’re provoked.”
“H-how was I supposed to know that?” Her sodden skirt had come untucked and floated about her knees. Her bodice and shift were plastered to her skin. The pale ivory sleeves were streaked a sickening shade of pink.
She stared at the fallen animal until Jason took her by the hand and tugged her upstream. His fingers felt warm and reassuring.
“Submerge yourself,” he urged. He waded back to the boar, lifting his boots high, heavy with water. “Go ahead,” he called back. “The blood will wash out.”
Numbly she obeyed, watching him tug the sword free and rinse the blade. He slid it back into his belt, then plunged his arm into the water and came up with his pistol.
For a long moment he held it dripping above the surface, looking from it to Caithren and back again. He cocked a brow. “I reckon it’s best I keep this, no?” Tucking it into his boot top, he splashed his way back to her.
She plucked her soaked bodice away from her body, trying to gather her wits. “It’s sorry I am that your boots are ruined.”
“They’ll dry.” He shrugged, then his forehead furrowed. “You’re a lousy shot, Emerald.”
“I’m not Emerald.” Irritated, she waded out of the water at full speed. “I’ve never shot a gun before. I didn’t like it much.”
He emerged from the burn and sat on a stump, shading his eyes with a hand as he gazed up at her. “You were carrying a pistol when I found you.”
“Found me? Abducted me is more like it.”
He yanked off a boot and spilled out a gush of water. “What were you doing carrying a pistol if you don’t know how to use it?” His stocking came off next. He wrung it in his hands. Absurdly, she thought he had nice toes. “Well?” he barked.
Her head jerked up. “It was Da’s. Cameron made me take it. To protect myself from Englishmen like you.”
A look of uncertainty seemed to cross his face, but he regained his normal implacable expression while he poured slowly from his second boot. “You’re certainly one for the stories. Quick thinker, too.” He peeled off his other stocking. “It’s a good thing the outlaws don’t know you cannot shoot—that could put a damper on your business, I expect.”
She glared at him in disbelief, then turned and stalked upriver, back to where she’d left her things. “You’ve an aggravating master,” she informed Chiron. Plopping down upon a log, she spread her skirts around her, hoping they might dry a wee bit in the sun while she pulled on her stockings and
