came to a castle. He recognized the preparations taking place. With all the activity, it was apparent the clan was gearing for war. He took note of the number of warriors this clan held.
Stefan crept closer to the castle and overheard someone mention the name Sinclair. If he was on Sinclair land, then that meant he was only a hundred miles or so from where he was last with his friends.
He turned and made his way back to the forest. Now that he knew where he was, he knew which direction he needed to go. Which was where he had been headed to begin with.
Stefan easily made up the time he’d lost by following the man. He found the stream again and kept going, running low and fast. As the sun began to set, he crested a hill and saw smoke curling from the trees. Hunger rumbled in his stomach and he decided to check it out.
Surprise ripped through him when he found a small cottage and the same woman from the cliff. Instead of being inside tending to her wounds, she was feeding the chickens while barely keeping on her feet. It was while she tried to bring in more wood that she collapsed.
Stefan waited a few moments to see if she would wake. When she didn’t, he walked from the trees and squatted beside her. He moved aside the black hair that had fallen over her face to look at her.
Why had she been so far from her home? What had she been doing on that cliff?
He didn’t want those questions running through his mind, and he certainly didn’t want the answers. He stood, intending to turn away when he recalled her face up on the cliff right before she fell. He had no idea how he’d gotten on the cliff, and there was a chance something similar had happened to her.
A sliver of emotion churned in his gut. He felt responsible for her injuries. That’s the only reason he bent and gathered her in his arms and stood. He kicked the door to the cottage open and walked inside to the bed before he set her down. As he pulled his arms from beneath her, his hand touched her skin and he felt the coolness.
If the lass could live after such a fall and make the trek all the way to the cottage, fate had a plan for her. That’s the only reason Stefan hurriedly removed her wet boots, stockings, gown, and shift.
As he was pulling the blanket over her, he spotted the huge bruise covering her left side. Stefan tucked the blanket tight, threw a log onto her dying fire and walked out, intending to forget her.
CHAPTER THREE
Morvan was on her side when she woke. She opened her eyes and looked into the flames in the hearth. The last thing she remembered was trying to get more wood to stoke the fire. When had she gotten it? More importantly, when did she get undressed and into bed?
She clutched her side and slowly sat up, realizing she was naked. Something was definitely wrong because she never went to bed naked.
Morvan wrapped the blanket around her and stood to walk to the window. She looked out the shutter to see the faint glow of the sun just breaking over the mountain. Her stomach rumbled loudly. She turned away from the window and walked to the table where she cut a piece of bread and added a slice of cold ham to it. Morvan ate four pieces of ham and two portions of bread before she retrieved a clean gown and petticoat. Her boots and stockings also in her arms, she walked from the cottage.
She had never walked down to the loch in nothing but a blanket, but there was no one about to see or disturb her, so Morvan didn’t worry. She was more concerned with the missing hours she couldn’t remember.
Had she fallen so hard that she would lose time? Surely if that were to happen, it would’ve happened right after she woke from the fall off the cliff. She hadn’t hit her head on any rocks, but that didn’t mean her brain hadn’t been addled a bit by such a rough tumble.
When Morvan reached the loch, she draped her clean clothes over a low-hanging branch along with the blanket. Then she walked into the water. It was cool against