Choices: Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, #12

By Marti Talbott

What the MacGreagors feared most was a war with England - that is, until it looked like a clan war might erupt between the Grahams and the Swintons, with the MacGreagor village caught in the middle.

 

All of her life, Colina, eldest daughter of Laird Sawney MacGreagor, desperately wanted to marry and have children, but something happened. Now she refused to even go to the courtyard and let the men walk with her. As hard as Sawney tried to find out what was wrong, he merely succeeded in driving her away. Months later, he was left with only one option - Braxton.

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: MT Creations
• Release date: Nov 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301966356

Marti Talbott

Marti Talbott (www.martitalbott.com) is the author of over 40 books, all of which are written without profanity and sex scenes. She lives in Seattle, is retired and has two children, five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. The MacGreagor family saga begins with The Viking Series and continues in Marti Talbott’s Highlander’s Series, Marblestone Mansion, the Scandalous Duchess series, and ends with The Lost MacGreagor books. Her mystery books include Seattle Quake 9.2, Missing Heiress, Greed and a Mistress, The Locked Room, and The Dead Letters. Other books include The Promise and Broken Pledge.

Book preview

CHOICES

Book 12

Marti Talbott’s Highlander Series

By

Marti Talbott

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

ILL-FATED LOVE

CHAPTER 1

More Marti Talbott Books

What the MacGreagors feared most was a war with England – that is, until it looked like a clan war might erupt between the Grahams and the Swintons, with the MacGreagor village caught in the middle.

All of her life, Colina, eldest daughter of Laird Sawney MacGreagor, desperately wanted to marry and have children, but something happened. Now she refused to even go to the courtyard and let the men walk with her. As hard as Sawney tried to find out what was wrong, he merely succeeded in driving her away. Months later, he was left with only one option – Braxton.

CHAPTER 1

AS WAS HER HABIT, THE lovely and sought after blue-eyed, Tuesday Graham, hurried to consume her breakfast potage, and went outside to mount her saddled horse. She feared little, welcomed the sun shining in the clear blue sky, and was eager to explore a pond on the other side of the river. It was not until she was almost there that she realized she had forgotten her dagger.

Carelessly, she shrugged it off. Who would dare harm the daughter of Laird Thomas Graham, one of the wealthiest men in Scotland?

THERE WAS SOMETHING exciting, if not dangerous, happening nearly every day at the home of the Grahams. They ran one of the largest bartering markets in Scotland, and clansmen came from miles around to see what there was to be had. Sunday was the day of rest, but on the other six days, tables were brought out each morning and loaded with goods of every kind. The goods included precious seeds for the spring planting, fresh meat and fowl, cooking pots, jewelry, pottery, baskets, weapons, carvings, brushes, brooms, clay figurines, and fruit in season. The tables were strategically positioned in long lines on both sides of the main road, where chickens, house cats, and dogs were allowed to freely roam. The pigs, however, were kept in pens much farther away to avoid the smell, providing the wind blew the right direction.

Located on the edge of the forest, old and new village cottages dotted the flat land behind the tables on both sides, and were connected by well-worn paths. Keeping their customers convenience always in mind, the Grahams provided ample places for them to tie their horses at the south end of the long avenue. At the northern end, stood the modest Graham two-story Keep, from which the laird could enjoy a full view of the marketplace.

Storehouses near the Keep were filled with tapestries, more expensive weapons, and the jeweled gold and silver items few could afford. The Grahams had even acquired English bathing basins, saddles, halters, pieces of armor and shoes. Between the back of the Keep and a fairly steep hill, there was plenty of room for the younger Graham children to play away from the crowds.

Not far from the village were meadows where horses grazed, all of them gained through the bartering process and sold the same way. The rolling hills were speckled with herds of cattle, sheep, and cottages where the shepherds and their families lived.

Their customers came from miles around, some spending two or more days on the road to get there, but most lived close enough to arrive by noon and make it home before dark. The clans nearest the Grahams included the MacDuff, the Kennedy, the Haldane, the Buchannan, the Swinton, and the MacGreagor.

All in all, Clan Graham wanted for nothing.

It was Laird Chisholm Graham who married the raving white-haired beauty, Paisley MacGreagor. Even the day he married her, he knew other men wanted her and as time passed; a harmless look from any man who came near her inflamed his jealousy. In the end, he sent Paisley away and killed himself.

Unlike the MacGreagors, the Grahams fought for the right to be the next laird and there were several challengers. Therefore, the day Chisholm was laid to rest, a gruesome fight ensued. Those who came to barter what little they had for what they badly needed, found themselves witnesses to a bloodbath instead.

How Thomas Graham managed to fend off an attack from all sides, even he was not certain. Yet fight he did, and in less than an hour, five Grahams lay dead in the middle of the marketplace. Business was interrupted for a time that Tuesday, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Waiting customers meant profits, and as soon as the bodies were carried off and the blood washed away, life went back to normal.

No one could deny it was a fair fight and Tuesday, Thomas Graham decided as he took his rightful place at the head of the clan, was a very good day. Therefore, when his first daughter was born, he named her, ‘Tuesday.’ A year later, his wife, Lorna, gave him a son, but then she was barren for several years until another son came along, followed by his youngest daughter, Fenella.

Indeed, Thomas Graham was wealthy in every way a Scot could be wealthy, except on this day, his wife could not find seven-year-old Fenella. He was not panicked at first, but when his wife became more and more upset, he sent six hearty men out to search for the child.

When she got tired of the other children, Fenella was fond of playing with her clay doll, in a place where she was sure not to be trampled. Under a table was the perfect spot. Yet, all the searchers managed to find under the tables were a few chickens pecking at spilled seeds, sleeping dogs, and one little boy eating a chunk of bread.

It wasn’t long before word spread and more Grahams began to search; first in the cottages, then in the fields and then in the forest. Each hour brought more alarm and still Fenella was not found. A very pregnant Lorna began to weep. She was a pleasant, caring woman who normally had a smile on her face...until this day.

By time for the noon meal and beside himself with worry, Thomas repeatedly paced the full length of his great hall. His light brown hair had begun to gray several years ago, and he was getting old, too old for this kind of worry. He wore his hair long, yet tied back, and his graying beard was always neatly trimmed, although not always evenly.

His second and third in command knew not what to do, other than relay their laird’s orders and wait for word. Yet, any word at all was painfully slow in coming and even then, utterly disappointing.

There was still a possibility that Tuesday had taken her sister riding, and because she always came home in time for the noon meal, he expected to see both of his daughters safe and sound very soon.

It was not to be.

ALEC MACGREAGOR SAT on his horse in the forest and watched the woman standing at the edge of a pond, on the MacGreagor side of the river. She bent over, grabbed the back of her blue and yellow plaid skirt, pulled it between her legs to the front, and tucked the material in her belt. From the knee down, her legs were exposed and it was a rare sight indeed.

She was clearly a Graham and he quickly looked around to see if any other Grahams were nearby, but all he saw was her horse tied to a tree. It made him wrinkle his brow. For a woman to be alone on land not belonging to her own clan was either incredibly brave or outrageously stupid.

The small, pristine pond was surrounded by trees and thick green bushes. This early in the spring, the wild flowers had only just begun to bud and he imagined the water was still too cold to wade in for pleasure. Yet, she did not seem to mind and he was captivated as he watched her take off her shoes, set them on a rock and step into the icy water without flinching. She didn’t go out very far before she seemed to spot something, reached into the water and pulled it out. Delighted, she smiled, looked it over and then put it in the small cloth sack hanging from a string around her neck.

Again and again, she reached in, pulled something out, examined it and slipped it in her pouch. She wore her long, golden hair in a single braid down the middle of her back, and her smile seemed to widen with each new find.

Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Told by his father to make the best possible choice, Alec MacGreagor was twenty-four and still without a wife. He thought about it often enough and truly wanted to marry, but ‘the best possible choice’ had yet to come along. He wore his blond hair shoulder length, kept it unbound yet tucked behind his ears, and guessed he was handsome enough. His eyes were a pleasant blue, his height ordinary for a MacGreagor and he had few scars on his muscular body. The fewer the scars, the better the fighter, or so all the MacGreagors believed.

Precisely what the best kind of woman was, Alec had yet to determine. It would take more than golden hair, a pretty smile and fine legs to sway him. Moreover, he knew what he didn’t want – a wife who adored trivial things, whined, or was simple minded. Good conversation, the kind his parents enjoyed, was something he assumed all men wanted in a wife, and he wanted that more than most.

An only child, Alec chose archery and practiced until he was counted among the best. His eyesight was excellent and rarely did he go on the hunt and come back empty handed. This day, he had gone farther than he intended and was surprised to find a Graham on MacGreagor land. On most days, Grahams and MacGreagors were civil, but all that could quickly change when it came to a striking woman - and this woman certainly qualified. He had been to the Graham market a few times and met a few Graham women, but he didn’t recognize this one.

Her back was to them when the furry, brown and white striped boar piglets came out of the bushes to drink from the pond, and Alec was immediately alarmed. Where there were piglets, there was usually a very dangerous sow, and a sow could slash a man with her tusks so severely, none could save him.

Alec lifted his bow string over his head, pulled an arrow out of the pouch he carried on his back, and loaded it. He was right – a sow with bristly black hair, a large head and an angry snout started straight for her.

He took aim and was about to release his arrow when a man, also wearing the colors of Clan Graham, raced his horse into the water. She tried her best to run away, but he bent down grabbed the woman around the waist, and lifted her onto his horse. The stranger guided his horse to the other side of the pond and did not stop until they were on dry land. Then he turned his horse around and looked to see if the wild boar was still charging. It wasn’t. Instead, the sow had given up her rage and was content to drink alongside the piglets.

Alec lowered his bow.

The woman seemed oblivious to the danger the Graham had just saved her from, and instead slapped the man’s arm, landing a blow hard enough for Alec to hear. Let me go, Olson! she shouted.

The man with scraggly hair, beard and mustache was much older than she was. His nose had clearly been broken more than once, he had a hideous scar that ran from the corner of his mouth up his cheek, and instead of releasing her, he roared with laughter. Now I have you, bonnie Tuesday!

Tuesday was a name Alec instantly recognized. From what he had heard, the daughter of Laird Graham had already rejected several men who asked for her hand. It appeared this one was not willing to take no for an answer.

"When Father learns you have taken me, he will kill you!" Tuesday yelled. She smacked his arm again, but it did not detour him in the least.

Not if I am your husband, Olson argued. He will not kill the father of his grandchild. He casually turned his horse and walked it down a narrow animal path that led east – away from both the MacGreagor and the Graham villages.

You cannot make me marry you.

Alec had a clear shot and he knew just where to send an arrow into a man’s back for the kill, but if Olson made a sudden move, Alec might kill her instead. Just as they went out of sight, Tuesday’s horse noticed the boar. Extremely upset, the terrified horse tried to pull free of its tied reins, but by then, the boar had noticed the horse. As the boar turned, put its head down and began to charge, Alec sent an arrow through the sow’s neck. The sow squealed, stopped and started to sway. He grabbed a second arrow and aimed for the sow’s heart. It too hit its mark and at last, the sow fell to the ground. The piglets scurried back into the bushes and the agitated horse began to calm.

Alec turned his attention back to the path and looked to see if Olson had returned. He could not see him, but he heard Tuesday scream, My horse! He waited, but even that didn’t make the kidnapper come back, so Alec put his bow and arrow away, and tried to decide what to do. He could easily rescue her, but he found her behavior confusing. Tuesday surely carried a dagger and her hands were not bound, so why had she not just stabbed Olson? Perhaps she did not truly wish to be free.

Then again, perhaps she had stabbed him by now and needed his help. Alec left his hiding place in the trees and kept an eye on the sow as he went around the pond, just in case it was not yet dead. He leaned down, picked up the woman’s shoes, tied the strings together, hung them over his horse’s back and followed Olson down the path.

It didn’t take long to catch up and Tuesday had not stabbed Olson. Staying just out of sight, Alec turned off the path in favor of going deeper into the forest. He carefully wove his way between the trees and bushes, and tried to stay close enough to hear.

I shall buy you a new horse, my love, Olson was saying.

"I love that horse, said Tuesday. Can we not go back and get her?"

Olson frowned. Nay. Once we are married...

Can you possibly think I would marry you now?

"I could not make you marry me before, but I have found a way."

How? Tuesday demanded.

Never you mind how.

Seated sideways in front of him, Tuesday gritted her teeth, leaned toward the horse’s head and looked Olson in the eye. Do not make me hurt you.

Me bonnie Tuesday, you know you favor me. I have seen it in your eyes when you look at me.

"‘Tis hate, Olson, not love when I look at you."

Ah, me bonnie Tuesday, you...

I do not fancy you, do you hear what I say!

You say that now, but once we are married, you will confess your love for me.

I will never marry you!

Not even for Fenella’s sake?

She grabbed Olson’s arm and looked him in the eye again. What have you done?

I have taken her. His grin was devious and his eyes were challenging.

Her jaw dropped. You have taken Laird Graham’s youngest daughter as well? Have you gone daft?

I have not harmed her.

Half of Scotland shall be looking for you.

Nay, they will be looking for a Swinton. I left a swatch of Swinton cloth behind when I took her.

Tuesday nearly shouted, You what? In total disbelief, she stared at him for a long moment, and then closed her eyes and bowed her head. Olson, do you not know that you have started a war?

Not far from them, Alec halted his horse. She was right. Worse still, the Swinton village lay to the south of his clan, the Grahams were to the north and in no time at all, the MacGreagor’s could well be in the middle of the battle. He had a choice to make, and a wrong choice could cost many lives – should he continue to follow and possibly rescue Laird Graham’s daughter, or should he warn his clan?

He knew Laird Graham was a fair minded man with his wits about him, but the father of two daughters snatched away was rarely in control of his rage. Unless Alec got word to someone, there would be blood, and plenty of it.

On the other hand, Olson clearly did not have his wits about him. Once cornered, a daft man might strike out; kill both sisters and who would be there to stop him?

A GENTLE BREEZE LIFTED the sides of Colina MacGreagor’s auburn hair as she sat bareback on her white mare. She was well hidden in the thickness of the forest, halfway up the tallest hillside, and had a full view of everything going