Page 18 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
“Stop movin’!” Gordon yelled, as his horse came through the firs.
Anna twisted her head around, her green eyes wide with terror. For a moment, he wondered if her fear came from her predicament or the fact that he was there in the woods with her, alone.
It’s ‘cause she’s about to drown in a bog, ye fool,he chided himself. After all, since meeting him, she’d rarely looked at him in fear. An exception to most he encountered.
“Laird Lyall!” she shouted, a flicker of relief crossing her beautiful face. “Laird Lyall, I’m stuck!”
“Aye, I can see that,” he replied gruffly, retrieving a coil of rope from the back of his horse’s saddle. “That’s why ye’re to stop movin’. The more ye move, the worse it’ll be.”
Instead of freezing, she lunged forward, snatching what seemed to be a folded square of paper off the tuft of marsh grass.
“Bloody hell! Stop movin!” he barked.
She stilled at last, clutching the square of paper to her chest.
“Better,” he said, testing the spongy earth with the toe of his boot.
There was always a way through bogs such as this, and if he were in his own lands, he’d know it keenly. But this was a new puzzle to solve, and it would take time and care.
“What are ye doin’?” Anna shouted. “I’m sinkin’, M’Laird! Hurry up!”
A muscle twitched in Gordon’s jaw, as he lashed one end of the rope to a tree and tied the other end around his waist. “If I hurry, I’ll end up stuck with ye. If ye want to live, hold yer tongue.”
She blinked as if he’d insulted her, but she said nothing more as he continued to test the ground with the toe of his boot. There were sturdy islands of hard-packed peat all across the bog, and a few shallow pockets of watery dirt that wouldn’t try to suck him down; he made a mental note of the route as he picked his way across to Anna, so he wouldn’t falter on the way back.
His horse snorted in agitation, watching the scene closely, ears flicking.
Reaching a helpful tangle of tree roots, a short distance from Anna, Gordon crouched down. “How did ye get in so deep?”
She must’ve known she was in trouble long before she got to this point in the bog.
“I… misjudged a step,” Anna replied curtly.
He narrowed his good eye. “What were ye doin’?”
“I dropped somethin’ important,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “Now, are ye goin’ to get me out of here or nae?”
Wrapping his hand around one of the gnarled tree roots, he leaned out as far as he could go, extending his other hand to her. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to.
Staring at his outstretched hand for a moment, she stuffed the unknown piece of paper into the neckline of her dress, drawing his eye to the panicked heaving of her bosom, and promptly took hold of his hand with both of hers.
But the bog wasn’t so willing to relinquish her, the liquid mud slurping and bubbling around her waist, eager to devour her. Gordon’s arm strained, sinews and muscles burning, veins popping through the browned skin of his forearms as he poured the entirety of his strength into saving Anna from the belly of that bog.
“It willnae let me go,” she gasped, her eyes glittering with fear.
Clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth, praying the tangle of roots wouldn’t snap in his grip, he heaved backward with all of his might. The bog fought him every step of the way, stronger than any human opponent, but he wasn’t about to let the vile thing have his bride.
She’s mine… The lass is mine!
All of a sudden, the bog released her with a satisfyingpop. Gordon barely kept his balance as the power of his pull sent her flying into him, his other hand releasing the roots to embrace her, holding her tight to his chest. He didn’t care that she was covering him in mud; he’d been covered in worse. And the surprising sweetness of feeling her arms wrap around him in gasping relief was enough that he didn’t even notice the scent of the bog, now clinging to them both.
“Hold on,” he told her, hoisting her up.
Without hesitation, she locked her legs around his waist, holding on as if she never meant to let go, as he rose to his feet and picked his way back across the unsteady islands to solid ground.
The moment they were at the fir trees, however, she slid down as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Trembling from the cold, she swallowed hard, bowing her head a little as she whispered a “thank ye.”
“Get on,” he instructed.
