Page 34 of A Scottish Lord for Christmas
“Thank you,” he muttered, eyes still fixed on the rocks of the mountain ahead.
The morning mist thinned momentarily and there it was: the nearest hind was prowling up the rocks, head bent as it quested for plants to eat. Quinn waited, studying the deer. It was an older one, a tad feeble. Perfect to target. Removing the weak deer allowed the stronger to breed.
The challenge of deer stalking among the barren, rocky wilderness was that it was hard to cross distances quickly. The herd of hinds and bucks forming a smattering of red spots appeared deceptively close but he knew from years of practice how far away they were. To get to that deer he’d need to find an approach route.
The wind shifted in an instant and a grouse stirred from the rocks ahead, and several of the closest deer sprang up, bolting easily over the tussocks before Quinn could take even one step. The older hind lagged behind, likely too old to catch wind of their scent.
“Come on, I believe we may get it if we move fast.” Quinn climbed more quickly, his entire focus on the hunt.
“Watch out—the ledge!” Douglas cried out from behind him as rocks from above tumbled toward them. A buck they hadn’t seen north of them had knocked several small boulders loose as he shot higher into the mountain. Quinn ducked as rocks fell past him over the nearby ledge, and one struck his gamekeeper in the chest. Douglas wavered unsteadily inches from the cliff.
“Douglas!” Quinn bellowed, his blood pounding as he lunged for the man.
He caught hold of Douglas’s arm a second before the gamekeeper fell over the edge. Crashing to the ground on his stomach, Quinn sucked in painful breaths as he stared over the lip of the cliff. Douglas hung there, cursing and hissing as he clawed at the rocks to find purchase. Quinn’s other hand gripped a rock to keep them from sliding off.
“Douglas…,” Quinn panted. His shoulder felt like it was tearing in half. “Can you land below? I could drop you.”
“’Tis too far…,” Douglas growled. “But you canna lift me back up.”
They both knew what Douglas was saying.
Quinn gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the drop in the pit of his stomach.
“I’ll not leave you.” He muttered a curse that would have made his mother and father blush.
Inch by agonizing inch, he dragged Douglas up until he saw the man’s hands scrabbling at the ledge’s edge and then the gamekeeper’s grim face appeared as he fought to get up over the cliff.
Quinn only released his hold when the other man was completely safe on the rock shelf; then he fell onto his back, shaking violently. His shoulder jutted out at an unnatural angle and the pain hit him hard enough he tasted bile upon his lips.
“Christ, milord!” Douglas crawled over to him.
Quinn stared up at the gray clouds, blinking slowly as numbing pain overtook him.
“Dislocated shoulder,” the gamekeeper muttered, but Quinn could barely hear him. The pain turned from a throbbing sharpness to a slow, burning fire that slowly spread over him.
“Milord, focus. I need to try to move you. I’ve not set a shoulder back into place before; we need to get you home immediately.”
The second he struggled to sit up, the mere movement knocked the breath from his body.
“You’ve got to stand, milord. We can’t stay overnight. I’ve seen wolves in these woods. Our rifles won’t matter if they come prowling.”
Douglas was right. They had to move. The thought was sluggish as it floated slowly to the top of his mind.
“Douglas, I can barely breathe,” he confessed as the other man tucked his body under Quinn’s uninjured arm and helped him stand.
“I know, laddie.” The gamekeeper’s soft reply was laced with worry. “Keep walking, I’ll help ye.”
Quinn closed his eyes every time they tried to get past rocky outcrops that required climbing and using his bad shoulder. Each fresh twinge of pain increased that dark haze around the edge of his vision.
“Douglas, you must…distract me. I need to think on something besides the pain.”
The gamekeeper huffed as he stepped over a boulder in their descent.
“What about your bride, milord? Surely you want to get home to see her?”
Rowena. The name broke through the darkness like a shaft of sunlight. The dagger and the note still pressed against his heart.
There is a woman who loves me, a woman who wants to heal my broken heart.
