A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) Hildie McQueen (online e reader TXT) 📖

“Yer archery skills are legendary,” the man said, holding out his hand. “I am Glenn Ross.”

Ewan studied him. “We are related then?”

“Distant. I am from the northern and smaller Ross Clan.”

Ewan noticed that Glenn’s likeness was distinct to the northern Ross Clan. Most of them had a lighter complexion and coloring of hair. Glenn was blond, but instead of blue eyes, he had the distinct hazel that most Ross’ were born with.

“I will inform Tristan of my decision,” Ewan said. “If ye will have me.”

Glenn nodded with a curious expression. “Did ye not only recently return from Fraser lands? I do not know that Tristan will agree for ye to come to the post so soon.”

“He will,” Ewan replied, knowing that Tristan would agree it to be a good idea to stay away until Catriona left. It would only lead to problems if he returned to both Broden and her still at the keep.

The cold wind blew, and he yanked the tartan over his shoulders.

He hated the cold.

Two weeks passed at the camp. The injured had been taken back to their families to recover, the dead to be buried. Other than Sutherland men returning and asking permission to retrieve their dead, no other challenges were issued.

Ewan paced the length of the camp, restless even after brushing down his horse and helping others with their mounts. The worst thing about being away from the keep was idle time. There were many hours of not much to do other than sit in wait.

They did not partake in sword play as they had to keep a keen ear to ensure no one approached. For the most part, they rode in a large circle, guarded the forest on the northern front, ate and slept.

One night, finally the call to withdraw was given. Those that were to return to Ross Keep would do so in the early morning. Those returning to the northern post, would leave a day later, ensuring there was no one in wait for them to leave and attempt to trespass.

Ewan rested well that night knowing he had a plan for the next several months. He would take on leadership responsibilities with a team of archers. Formulating plans for helping the men become better marksmen, he looked forward to the days ahead.

And yet a picture of Catriona came to mind. Her beautiful amber brown eyes meeting his, the soft smile on her lips when he’d woken lying next to her. The softness of her lips against his.

Nothing had prepared him for what she’d said. That she’d rather marry someone else. Why had she changed so drastically?

An owl’s sad hoot drew him away from thoughts of a love that would never be, and he silently thanked the bird. From now on, he would divert his thoughts. Catriona nor any woman would take any priority in his mind. If he ever was to be with another woman, it would be one that he cared little about.

The morning the contingent headed north, Ewan couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Tristan returned to Ross Keep. Tristan had promise to send a message to let Ewan know once Catriona left, and it would be safe for him to return.

Until then, he was satisfied that his not returning would send a clear message.

Chapter Twelve

When Catriona opened her bedroom door, Merida walked in. As of late, her expression of worry remained. The quiet woman studied Catriona. “I came to see if ye would pray with me for Tristan and Ewan’s safe return.”

“Of course.” Catriona had yet to tell anyone about what she’d learned from Broden. It seemed strange to her that although he was married, none of them had yet to inform her. Perhaps they saw nothing wrong with Ewan leaving behind a family with no care for what happened to them.

She joined Merida on the floor and prayed. Despite how angry she was at Ewan, Catriona did not wish for anything bad to happen to him. Even though archers were less likely to be killed in battle than warriors, they still faced danger.

Several injured archers had returned weeks earlier just after the first battle. They’d not heard whether or not they’d battled again.

Once they finished praying, Catriona opened her eyes to see that Esme had entered the room. Her friend looked first to Merida and then to Catriona.

“The men return.”

Catriona’s stomach flipped, forcing her to take a sharp breath.

With a happy cry, Merida flew from the room, not waiting to see if they followed. Catriona went to the window but unable to see, she gave up.

“Let us go up to Elspeth’s bedchamber. From there, we can get a clear view of the courtyard and gates.”

Together, they went up the stairs to a bedchamber. The door was open and inside were Gisela and Elspeth. Both turned and waved them forward to a small balcony. Sure enough, from there, they had a clear view of the contingent of horsemen riding through the front gates and into the courtyard.

The laird, his brother and others were not visible as they probably stood by the front entrance.

Her heart thumping, Catriona searched the lines of men for Ewan. It was hard to tell one from another, but she was convinced that she could find him because his horse stood out.

The women commented on certain men, naming them and pointing. Catriona finally could not take it any longer. “Does anyone see Ewan?”

There was silence as they searched together for the familiar handsome face.

After a long while, it was Esme who spoke. “I do not think he is here.”

“He may be standing at the front door. Perhaps he dismounted before we thought to look,” Gisela added.

“I agree,” Elspeth said. “I am sure he is somewhere, and we cannot spy him.”