The Other Side of the River, Book 14: Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, #14

By Marti Talbott

Terrified and out of breath, fifteen-year-old Isobell Macdean ran from her attackers as fast as she could to the top of a high cliff. All her life, she'd been warned not to go to the other side of the river where the women were troublesome and the Highlander men were giants, but her only option was to jump into the icy water below and pray she could stay on the right side.

 

Before Daniel's mother died, she told him a secret he knew his brother would never accept, so when the brothers were forced to leave the far north of Scotland, Daniel decided it was time to see if what she said was true. 

 

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: MT Creations
• Release date: May 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781498940917

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

The Other Side of the River

Book 14

Marti Talbott’s Highlander’s 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

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

MARBLESTONE MANSION

Book 1

CHAPTER 1

More Marti Talbott Books

Terrified and out of breath, fifteen-year-old Isobell Macdean ran from her attackers as fast as she could to the top of a high cliff. All her life, she'd been warned not to go to the other side of the river where the women were troublesome and the Highlander men were giants, but her only option was to jump into the icy water below and pray she could stay on the right side.

Before Daniel’s mother died, she told him a secret he knew his brother would never accept, so when the brothers were forced to leave the far north of Scotland, Daniel decided it was time to see if what she said was true.

CHAPTER 1

IT WAS EITHER JUMP or die.

Isobell’s legs ached from running up hill, and she was out of breath – far too out of breath to have any hope of surviving a plunge off a high cliff into the river below. Yet, she could hear them coming and soon, very soon, men with murder in their eyes would reach her.

She was barely out of bed and dressed, when they heard the thunder of horse’s hooves on the hard earth. The Macdean were hated and feared for no other reason Isobell knew of, than their hair turned prematurely gray. Each time the intruders came, good men, women, and children senselessly died. After each raid, the clan moved farther into the mountains and began anew, but again and again, they were discovered and attacked.

Therefore, when her father begged Isobell to run as soon as the next attack began, she believed he was right; there were simply too few of them left to win another battle. He made her promise, so that’s what she did – she grabbed her sword, ran around to the back of the cottage, and headed up the long, sloping hillside. She glanced back only twice – once when she heard a woman scream and once to confirm she was being pursued. She had a good head start before they saw her, but she knew it wouldn’t take long for them to catch up.

Now, she could go no farther.

She stood on the edge of the cliff and drew in badly needed gulps of air. The wind lifted the sides of her long, blue-gray hair, and made the faded green tunic she wore over her nightshirt cling to the front of her body. The river below looked cold and dismal, just as it always did, and Isobell seriously doubted she would survive the jump, but it was better than dying by the sword at the hands of men who showed no mercy.

With only seconds to spare, she gazed one last time at the beautiful, yet frightening land across the river. It was not the first time she had seen it from there; she often came to this very spot hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious people who lived in the thick, green forest. In the distance, colorful rolling hills offered fewer trees, but not once had she seen another living soul in the dangerous and forbidden land of the giants. It was because they somehow knew she was watching and hid, she was told as a child, and that was precisely what she still believed. God help her if she survived the jump, only to end up on the other side of the river.

Isobell took another deep breath and looked back. She could see smoke billowing high in the air and flames shooting up in the direction of her village, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. The pounding of feet was growing louder, yet she defiantly stood her ground. She waited until she saw the tops of their heads, then their bodies, and then the deadly look in their eyes. The instant the first man got close enough to cause her harm, she drew in a huge breath of air and stepped off the edge of the cliff.

THEY CAME FROM THE north of Scotland where few lived, the ground was partially solid, partially boggy, and where small, peaty black pools dotted the land. In the spring, fields of maroon and white butterbur, violet cuckooflowers, and heather and cotton grass covered their part of the earth. The rest of the year, they enjoyed much the same weather as all the inhabitants of the island they shared with the English. It was normally a peaceful, happy life, for they kept far away from the English and the warring clans in the south. The ocean waves provided a constant rhythm that lulled them to sleep at night, and kept them company in the daytime while they fished, farmed, and went about their daily lives. Yet, their seclusion served to feed extreme superstitions, making them wary of anything they supposed might threaten their existence – even if it was one of their own.

Therefore, two brothers left their clan and set out to see the lands in the south. As often as they could, Daniel and Carbry rode side-by-side down the middle of a glen, instead of trying to make their way through the thick forest alongside the river. Their days were filled with the wondrous sights of waterfalls, trees, birds of seemingly every color, patches of pale yellow primrose with orange centers, and fields of bluebells.

I am tired, said Coppy. Although his true name was Carbry, his elder brother called him Coppy even after they grew to be stout, healthy men, each with a height of six feet, five inches. The name suited him very well; everyone said so. Coppy was rarely unhappy and along with his usual smile, came curly blond hair, a lock of which was not easily kept off his forehead, even when he tied his hair back with string.

Daniel’s hair was a shade darker and more wavy than curly, but his beard, mustache, and blue eyes matched his brother’s perfectly. I am tired as well. We shall stop soon.

I say we stop now.

Daniel lifted his right leg over the horse’s head and sat with both feet dangling off the side. It felt good to change positions and he suspected the horse appreciated it too. If we stop too often, we shall never get where we are going.

You are not so eager to get where we are goin’, as you are to get away from Aileen.

Get away from her? I wished to marry her, not get away from her.

Coppy wrinkled his brow. But she would not come?

Aye, she would not.

Brother, what does it mean when a lass will not come?

It means she did not fancy me...at least not enough to leave her home.

She would not let you build her bridges?

Daniel smiled. Nay.

Father said, you are to help me build my bridge, but Brother, I have no need to build a bridge.

He meant the bridges of life, Coppy.

Bridges of life?

He had answered these same questions before, but he didn’t mind. He minded as a boy, until his father explained that Coppy was smart in many ways, but some concepts were simply beyond his understanding. Aye, there are many bridges in life.

Such as?

Such as choosin’ the right wife, and knowin’ what a lad should fight for and what he should set aside. Fret not little Brother; I shall always be at hand to help you.

I should like havin’ a wife someday. Aileen is stupid for not comin’ with us.

I agree. ‘Tis just as well, a lass would only slow us down.

And you are stupid, for if we do not stop, our horses will die. Besides, you need a bath.

Daniel chuckled. And you do not?

Not as much as you.

Very well, turn toward the river and for your sake, I shall bathe first.

It was an unusually warm summer day in Scotland. That time of year, the sun was late setting and early rising, but sleep came easily to the brothers, no matter how light the sky was. Just as Coppy did, Daniel turned toward the river, and once there, he slid down off the horse he had trained to come when called. His was a stout stallion the color of night, with white markings on its nose and shins, and a gentle way about him. Coppy could not quite get his dapple-gray stallion trained, until his brother helped. In the end, both horses obeyed Daniel, which was a good thing in case Coppy got it into his head not to follow.

All rivers flood in spring and this one even more so, having its beginnings in the snowcapped mountains. Yet by this time of year, the water had receded enough to leave a sandy riverbank and to expose colorful, water polished blue, green, and burgundy rocks. It was the widest river either of the brothers had ever seen and it made sense to stay close by. The river offered ample fish when they got hungry, the air always smelled sweet, and the multitude of birds chirping in the trees made them feel as if all was right with the world, even if it was not.

As was their custom, both men took the trouble of vigilantly looking around before either undressed. The other side of the river looked just the same as the side they were on, with a multitude of trees and bushes hiding the land that lay beyond. They hadn’t seen any other clansmen in days, and didn’t see any now, but one could never be too cautious.

Leaving their clan in such a hurry had not given them enough time to bring what they needed. Each had the usual sword, dagger, and water flask tied to his belt, and each had a bow and a sheath of arrows, plus a cloth sack in which to carry a blanket, one round soap bar and scant few extra items.

While Coppy stood guard, Daniel removed his weapons, his belt, and then his clothing. From inside his sack, he withdrew his ball of soap, waded into the cold water and quickly washed. As soon as he finished, he got out, tossed the soap to his brother and dressed. ‘Tis cold, Coppy.

Is it not always? Coppy stripped, walked into the river and meticulously washed the smell of sweat and horse away. He had just finished rubbing soap in his hair and rinsing it out, when he saw something just a few feet away. The hand lay limp across the top of a rock, unmoving as most dead hands did. It was not the first body he had seen, for dead men sometimes washed ashore in the north, but this hand appeared to be that of a woman. Coppy softly whistled to get his brother’s attention.

Standing guard with his back to his brother, Daniel quickly turned and whispered, What is it?

Coppy pointed at the hand, tossed the soap on the riverbank, and then started to make his way against the rushing river toward the body. At the same time, Daniel pulled his sword and guardedly moved that direction on land.

It was not until Daniel rounded a large rock that he got a full view of the woman. Her head was turned to the side and her nearly white hair was matted against the side of her face. Dinna touch her, Coppy.

He was about to reach for her hand when Coppy stopped. Why?

See the color of her hair? She is a Macdean.

Coppy wrinkled his brow. A Macdean?

You know very well ‘tis forbidden to touch a Macdean.

But Brother, we cannae leave her to die, even if she is a Macdean.

She is already dead.

Coppy shoved the unruly lock of wet hair off his forehead and took another step toward the hand. What if she is not dead?

I beg of you, dinna touch her. Have we not enough trouble?

‘Tis not like you to let a lass die.

Yet, she is a Macdean, Coppy. We dare not take the chance.

Coppy shoved the pesky lock of hair away again and stared at the unmoving woman. How shall we know if she is dead? Shall I poke her with a stick?

Daniel put his sword back in its sheath and ran his fingers through his wet hair. We dare not even do that.

Then we must watch to see if she moves?

Very well, go get dressed and I shall watch her.

I wish to watch her too.

Brother, if she wakes, which I doubt she will, the sight of you naked will surely frighten her to death.

Coppy laughed and turned around. You are right. You are not always right, but this time you are. Barefoot, Coppy walked down the riverbank, found his clothes and pulled his brown long pants on. He tied his waist string, gathered the rest of his clothes, and hurried back. Has she moved?

Nay, she is dead.

Coppy found a flat rock to sit on and began to put on his shoes. What will happen if we touch her?

Daniel put one foot on a rock and continued to run his fingers through his shoulder length wet hair in an effort to comb it. I care not to find out?

What do they say will happen?

They say we shall likely die and death is not my wish for either of us.

Die? Coppy scoffed.

She is cursed.

Coppy stood up, put on his shirt and then his belt. I thought we dinna believe in curses.

We believe in this one.

Father said we are to protect a lass, even if she is unsightly.

Father also said you are to obey me.

Because? Coppy didn’t wait and answered the question himself. You have more wits than I.

Not always, just more often than not.

"Aye, more often than not...and not just now."

Unable to stop him, Daniel watched as his brother lifted her hand and then let it fall back. He held his breath for a long moment, but nothing appeared to be wrong with his brother. Is she dead?

Aye, she is dead. Just then, the hand moved and Coppy’s eyes widened. She is not dead. She is cold enough to be, but she is not dead. Now what do we do? Coppy asked.

It matters not, she has been in the cold water too long and she shall surely die anyway.

Coppy grinned. I know you; you cannae let a lass die.

I can this one; some lasses are better off dead. What future has she in a world where she is hated and people fear touchin’ her?

I touched her and I am not struck down.

Not yet.

Coppy snickered. The truth be told; I am braver than you. He pushed the hair off her face, got his arms under her back and legs, and then lifted the woman off the rocks. As soon as he found a place, he gently laid her in the grass and then stepped back. She is very cold. We must get her warm.

Daniel stood with his legs apart and his hands clasped behind his back, staring down at her. At length, he drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. ‘Tis against all that is sound and reasonable, but you are right, I cannae let her die.

You mean to undress her and get her warm? Coppy asked.

You undress her.

Coppy was horrified. Me? I cannae do it. Mother said I am not to see a lass naked until I marry her.

"She said the same to me."

When?

When you were not there, apparently. Fetch a blanket to wrap her in.

You mean to touch her?

You have touched her, and if you are goin’ to die, I shall have little to live for. Fetch a blanket.

This time, Coppy’s smile was endearing. You love me that much.

Not always.

Aye, I do not love you always either. You mean to take off her clothes, am I right?

Daniel narrowed his eyes. Coppy, if you want her to live...fetch a blanket!

Very well, Brother.

Daniel waited until his brother was out of sight and then tried to decide what to do. Apparently, touching a Macdean did not cause a quick death, but he certainly didn’t want to suffer a slow one either. Besides, if Coppy began to suffer, he would need Daniel to care for him. On the other hand, Coppy would never forgive him for letting the woman die, and a lifetime of guilt was not appealing either. In the end, he truly had no choice but to touch her.

He slowly knelt down beside her, started to feel her forehead, hesitated for a moment, and then forced himself. Nothing happened, so he drew in a forgotten breath and began to undress her.

Coppy rushed back to