Skelley ripped the shirt into strips, separating them into clean and soiled piles. "Did you even see her?"

Alex's grin contained no humor. "Aye, she shot me with my own latch."

"Did she, now?" Skelley said, not looking up from his task.

Eliot, hooting with laughter, strolled away to share the news.

"Aye." Alex looked at his hands, curled into fists. "I had her in my hands for the second time today... and she tricked me again."

"Have ye learned yer lesson? Have ye had enough of her? There are some women who are simply better left alone and this poison la.s.s is one of them!"

Alex ignored the older man's harping. Skelley was as skittish as a woman sometimes. Skelley was another of Red Rowan's men who had chosen to follow Alex rather than the oldest son and heir, Robert. It wasn't that they didn't respect Rob, but he was peace loving. He refrained from fighting unless necessary. If it became necessary, Rob was as fierce as any of the Maxwell boys.

Alex held a different view. If their enemies felt the need to redress every slight, real or imagined, why should he be any different? There was little sense sitting about writing letters and trying to arbitrate peace when the adversary kept stealing your kine. And those that saw Red Rowan in Alex had joined him, along with many others he'd picked up along the way, like Laine and Davie. In all, he had nearly two score men.

Alex peered at the older man bellowing at Laine to hurry it up.

"Skelley, do you recall Jack Graham?"

Skelley frowned, scratching his beard and twisting his mouth awkwardly as he tongued the gap in his teeth. "Och, the lad we held for ransom nearly a year past? Eliot got to him, aye?"

"Ah..." Alex remembered him now. "She was going to marry him."

Understanding dawned in Skelley's eyes. "Well now. No wonder she hates ye."

Davie the leech, as the men had taken to calling him, arrived, probe gleaming in the firelight. The enormous man knelt beside Alex, his intense gray eyes inspecting the wound. He met Alex's gaze again and nodded shortly, indicating he could get the bolt head out.

Alex grit his teeth and looked away as Davie began silently digging in his shoulder. Davie had been with them only a short time, but he hadn't spoken a word. He didn't hear either, though he understood others if he looked at them when they spoke. He had a good sword arm, was deadly with a longbow, and knew much of healing.

Alex fixed his gaze on Skelley as Davie worked, talking to keep his mind off the pain. "Who was Jack Graham that her father would let her wed him?"

"He was Hugh's man," Skelley said. "Wesley had been willing to ransom him. He must've been worth something."

Alex gasped as Davie slowly pulled the quarrel tip from his shoulder. Skelley was there with water and whisky. Alex drank deeply, the fiery liquid burning his throat and belly, but easing the pain.

"If he were a Graham of any significance I would know of him."

"You canna ken everyone's business," Skelley said, dousing Alex's shoulder in wine.

Skelley was the peacemaker. He'd stopped Alex more than once from making grave mistakes when his temper got the upper hand. Alex watched the older man as he wrapped his shoulder tightly in the remnants of his shirt. Davie cleaned the quarrel tip for reuse. These men had been good to him, loyal and true. He couldn't let their home be taken from them. Gealach belonged to them all.

"I know Graham business," Alex insisted.

Alex didn't know why it troubled him so, but it did. Fayth Graham was the kind of woman Alex could never have. Her father and brother would wed her for alliances and power, never to an outlaw lacking lands and t.i.tles. Women such as Fayth were destined for lairds and heirs, not second or third sons. Alex would never have looked at Fayth, let alone touched her unless she were a wh.o.r.e. He'd been a fool for believing her ruse, but he'd wanted her from the moment he saw her and had let himself be deluded.

"Lucky for you she's no a verra good aim."

Alex looked up at Skelley, his brow furrowed. "I think she's likely an excellent shot. She didn't want to kill me... I goaded her into shooting me."

Skelley said nothing for a long time, inspecting Alex consideringly. "Twice she held your life and spared it. And her a Graham."

Alex felt that strange tightness in his chest again. It had come and gone ever since he'd met up with her in the forest. He'd felt it when he saw her, seemingly running for her life, in an exquisite gown that encased her small form like a suit of armor; and again at Lochnith, dressed as a lad, trying to escape fate; when she was between his thighs on Bear, pressed against his back; when he'd looked down on her, the moonlight on her face. When he'd let her ride away.

Alex shook his head, seeing her hair in the flames. "Why would the daughter of Lord Hugh Graham promise herself to common Jack Graham?" He looked up at Skelley. "She doesn't want to wed Carlisle, either. A fine match, that. Land, t.i.tles. And she likely brings him a substantial tocher. He's an old man; she'd be a rich widow soon enough." He expelled a breath. "And yet she'd prefer life with Jack Graham."

"Perhaps she loved him." Skelley wagged his eyebrows. "Or perhaps it was something more... mayhap he compromised her?"

"Perhaps... if so, my opinion of her slips for he was worthless and a lecher."

Skelley chuckled. "Och, lad. Love lends a fog to obscure the truth of one's character. She likely saw only the good in him and ignored aught unpleasant."

Alex shook his head. "I still cannot see it."

He tried to shrug off the strange mood that had descended on him. Nothing had been the same for him since Fayth Graham bashed him in the head with a jug of whisky. It was as if she knocked something loose and, now, he was filled with discontent.

"So she's out there-alone?" Skelley said, stroking the thick pelt of his beard.

Alex snorted. "Dinna fash on her. I worry for the hapless men who cross her path... besides, she's dressed herself as a lad and has my weapons."

Skelley regarded Alex oddly. "So is it over? Since she's escaped, there's no marriage, no business transaction. Carlisle still holds the deed to Gealach."

Gealach. Carlisle. Ridley. Alex hoped, that for now, the tower was safe. Ashton Carlisle's estates were scattered about the West March. Lochnith was his largest and finest, but he also held the tower of Gealach on the southern end of the Rhins of Galloway, a location considered remote and uninhabitable by many. Gealach had been a small tower in complete disrepair. The fields untended, the inhabitants gone to corruption, finding it easier to raid their neighbors than work for sustenance.

Alex had seen Gealach some four years ago and been much taken with it. As the third son of Rowen Maxwell, the ninth Lord Annan, he had gained no lands or t.i.tles upon his father's death. After ama.s.sing a goodly bit of coin and beasts from his personal endeavors, he'd offered to purchase Gealach from Lord Carlisle, but the laird had refused. Alex had then offered for his daughter, Diana's, hand, a bonny la.s.s with a waspish tongue, on the condition that Gealach came as her dowry. Carlisle had laughed in his face. And so Alex took the tower by force and had thus far held it safe from harm-and Carlisle.

He'd put the inhabitants to industry and began repairing the tower. Three years he'd worked to restore the tower and lands. d.a.m.ned if he would lose it now. With Fayth Graham's marriage to Lord Carlisle, the laird was gifting Ridley Graham with the estate of Gealach. And Lord Graham had come to Scotland in force to take it.

Though Lord Carlisle had been rich in land, he'd not been rich in men and so his few forays to recapture the tower had been failures. Lord Graham was a different matter. There was no clan on the West March-with the exception of perhaps the Armstrongs, when they quit their squabbling amongst themselves and came together as one-that could raise more men in a saddle, armed to the teeth, than the Grahams. It was a force Alex could not contend with. And so he'd been forced to find his advantage in other ways, such as taking Carlisle's lovely bride-to-be and holding her until he agreed to sell Alex the land.

But now neither of them had Fayth and Alex didn't know what was to become of his home. He rubbed his bandaged shoulder. "Aye. For now I think Gealach is safe. But I dinna trust Ridley Graham. This isn't over. He didn't drag a hundred men into Scotland to turn around and leave because his sister decides she doesn't want to wed. But for now we wait. I've a lost brother to fetch and stolen kine to unload. On Tuesday, take Laine and Eliot to Liddesdale and get rid of Carlisle's kine. That should give my shoulder time to mend."

Skelley left him with his thoughts. Alex found himself watching Davie meticulously clean his instruments. He would have liked to question the man about his unusual methods of healing, but Davie couldn't answer. Neither could he read or write; Alex had tried to communicate with him that way, to no avail.

Alex waved at the gleaming instruments laid out on the piece of cloth, capturing the mute's attention. "Your sister taught you this?"

Davie nodded, rolling the cloth up and tying it securely. He walked away before Alex could ask another question.

Alex's thoughts whirled with the throbbing of his shoulder. She'd shot him. But she hadn't killed him. She'd been ready to marry a commoner, was prepared to fend for herself in a harsh world that spared no sympathy for a woman's plight. And there was Alex's brother, Patrick, missing for weeks. Perhaps with Fayth loose on the borders, Ridley would be occupied enough to leave Gealach alone. At least long enough for Alex to head north and find his brother. Alex's hand was drawn to the bead hanging from his neck, secured by a leather string. His only clue to Patrick's whereabouts.

Skelley returned, bearing a wooden cup that he proffered to Alex. "Something from the leech."

Alex took the cup. He wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell, but drank it down. Skelley nodded with satisfaction and took the cup, turning to leave.

"Skelley," Alex called at his retreating back.

Skelley looked back.

"Be careful in Liddesdale."