Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(43)

His expression lightened when he cast eyes on Bowen, and he hurried to his brother’s bedside.

“Are you all right?” Teague demanded. “I came as fast as I could. We were nearly to Montgomery Keep when your men overtook me.”

“Aye, I am well. ’Tis a paltry wound. Not worthy of two days abed. I’ll be up on the morrow.”

Teague turned to Brodie. “What in God’s name happened?”

Brodie pulled up a chair, turned it backward, and then straddled the seat, resting his arms along the back.

“Patrick McHugh attacked, along with the McGrieves. We beat them back, but not before Bowen was injured. There was an attempt by a McHugh who’d remained behind and sworn allegiance to the Montgomerys. He snuck up on him and nearly stabbed him in the back as he did battle with another warrior.”

Teague quirked up an eyebrow. “And yet he didn’t.”

Brodie shook his head. “Nay. Genevieve felled him with an arrow.”

Teague did an instant double take. “Wait. Genevieve did what?”

“She put an arrow straight through the man’s forehead, and then she finished off the soldier Bowen had been doing battle with. The lass was fierce in battle. And she has good aim.”

Teague glanced at Bowen, his eyebrows drawn together. “What say you about this, Bowen? And what of the matter we discussed before I left?”

Bowen sent Teague a look that instantly silenced his younger brother.

“I’m more interested in the fate of Patrick McHugh. I saw him not in the heat of battle. Is he still lurking out there, hiding in some dark hole? And what of the other members of the McHugh clan. There was one traitor. Were there others?”

Brodie grimaced. “Aye. We found at least three. They were executed at dawn. They aided Patrick and the McGrieves, as well as their kin who rode with Patrick.”

“And Patrick?” Teague asked. “What of him?”

Brodie took in a deep breath. “This is rather interesting. Patrick is dead.”

“Dead? How? And who killed him? Find me the name of the soldier who ended Patrick’s life so he can be handsomely rewarded,” Bowen said.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Brodie hedged. “We found two arrows in Patrick McHugh. One in his leg and one right through his neck. Both arrows belong to Genevieve.”

Bowen and Teague gaped at Brodie and then looked at each other in astonishment.

“Are you certain it was the lass who killed him?” Teague asked skeptically.

“I saw her shoot the two men in defense of Bowen. It’s not a stretch for me to believe she felled Patrick as well. The lass is calm under pressure. And she’s lethal with that bow of hers.”

“What happened after I blacked out?” Bowen asked.

He wanted to know all, because he was haunted by strange sensations. He could swear that Genevieve was at his side, her hand touching his face. It was a soothing balm to his pain, and he hadn’t wanted her to leave. Only, when he’d awakened Geoffrey and Deaglan were present and there was no sign of Genevieve.

“Genevieve propped you up so you didn’t plant your face in the ground,” Brodie said with thinly veiled amusement. “Then she started barking orders like a seasoned commander. ’Twas she who sent riders to fetch Teague. She was concerned that we might suffer another attack, and with Bowen hurt and losses during battle we were considerably weakened.”

Bowen shook his head, utterly perplexed by the lass. He should be angry—nay, furious—with her for her part in Eveline’s abduction, and yet he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for administering any sort of punishment for her crime.

At least, not until he heard her reasoning.

“She guarded you as fiercely as a wolf bitch with her pups,” Brodie said, admiration clear in his voice. “She stitched your wound and then stood vigil by your bedside for two days. I came in to find her sleeping next to you during the night. The lass had exhausted herself and had fallen asleep. I left before I could disturb her, but she remained in that chair by your bed for two days straight, barely eating or sleeping the entire time.”

Teague was frowning harder by the moment, and Bowen could see that he battled to remain silent. Bowen shot him a warning look before turning his attention back to Brodie.

“How many losses did we suffer?”

“Not many, but with a force as small as what we had after the departure of Aiden and Teague with the bulk of our soldiers, even a few is too many. I lost one of my men, and two Montgomery warriors were killed in battle.”

Bowen swore. “I should not have sent Teague away.”

Brodie shrugged. “ ’Twas necessary. We had need of supplies. Food. This clan has little, and if they are to survive, they need aid. Even with fewer men, we were superior on the battlefield. The men with Patrick and the McGrieves outnumbered us, but their losses are far greater than ours.”

Bowen looked to his brother. “Did you arrive at Montgomery Keep, and were you able to tell Graeme all before you received the summons?”

“Nay,” Teague replied. “We were not far from our borders. I sent half the men to give report to Graeme and to tell him of all that had occurred. I brought the remainder with me as reinforcements in case another attack is launched.”

“He was watching,” Bowen muttered. “He was hiding like a thief and awaiting his opportunity to attack in an effort to regain the keep.”