She had no worries, though. She and Tarass would never be husband and wife.
Tarass stood wrapped in his fur-lined cloak. The wind was strong and the snow fell heavily and surprisingly, Thaw was taking his time seeing to his needs.
“He prowls to learn the lay of the land,” Rannock said as he approached Tarass. “He’s got good instincts about him for a runt.”
Thaw’s head snapped to the right and he let loose with such an angry growl that it had both men’s brows shooting up.
“I don’t think he cares for you calling him a runt,” Tarass said with a chuckle.
“I apologize,” Rannock said with a bob of his head at the pup. “Anyone named after the god Thor should be treated with respect.”
Tarass held back the laughter that rumbled up in him. If his clan wanted to believe the pup was named after Thor, so be it. Though, why they believed a Highland woman would name her dog after a Norse god he’d never understand.
“The men are ready to go as soon as the snow slows,” Rannock said, turning his attention to Tarass.
“With night fallen, tomorrow will be soon enough. Unless it worsens overnight. If so, the retrieval of the body will have to wait for another time.”
“At least the snow will keep it hidden.”
“While the men are out there, widen your search some and see if you come upon two horses and another body,” Tarass ordered.
“Another body? Horses? What goes on, Tarass?”
“Snow was on her way home when the snowstorm hit. From what she could tell, the man escorting her suffered a sudden death and the horses got away from her.”
“So you found her wandering aimlessly around in the snowstorm?” Rannock asked.
“I did.”
Rannock rubbed at his chin and his eyes narrowed. “You brought her straight here?”
“No questions, Rannock,” he ordered.
Rannock’s brow shot up. “I understand.”
“So Twilla is finding you a wife,” Tarass said and watched Rannock’s cheeks burn bright red. The man was thick-chested, with arm muscles that his shirt had difficulty containing, good features, long, flaxen colored hair, and a scar that ran along the one side of his jaw, not to mention the various scars on other parts of his body, proof of what a ferocious warrior he was. But when it came to women, he was a complete failure.
Rannock’s head hung low as he spoke as if he was about to admit to a horrendous crime. “I have no choice. You know better than anyone how difficult it is for me to speak to a woman.”
“You mean to speak to a woman you think might make a good wife, since I know firsthand you have no trouble speaking to a woman otherwise.”
Rannock rubbed at his chin, this time more roughly. “My tongue gets tied in knots. It’s a curse. That’s what it is a curse.”
“Did you tell Twilla that you like Runa?” Tarass asked, casting a glance at Thaw, still taking his time.
“She’d have no interest in me,” Rannock said, shaking his head to confirm his words to himself.
“You don’t know if you don’t try.”
“And what of you, Tarass? Don’t you want someone in your bed who wants to be there?” Rannock asked.
“I want what’s best for this clan.”
“What’s best for this clan is to have a leader who has a wife who gives him lots of bairns and lots of love.”
“I don’t need advice from you,” Tarass warned.
“I give it whether you want it or not. I always have and I always will, and you know that.” Rannock reminded.
Tempering his annoyance, Tarass said, “And I count on it, my friend.”
Thaw barked as he ran toward Tarass.
“All done?” he asked the pup without thinking.
Thaw barked and looked toward the keep, then barked again.
“We’ll speak in the morning, Rannock,” Tarass said and turned toward the keep.
Thaw bolted up the stairs and was in the room and on the bed curled beside a sleeping Snow before Tarass entered the room.
Nettle jumped out of the chair by the fire as soon as Tarass entered the room.
“She was already asleep when I brought the hot brew to her,” Nettle said, casting an eye at the tankard that sat on the chest beside the bed. “I didn’t want to disturb her so I left it there in case she woke. Snow told me earlier that it wasn’t necessary for me to stay the night with her. She said she preferred to be alone. What do you wish me to do, my lord?”
Tarass didn’t question the lass’s words, since it would be just like Snow to say that. “You can leave, but return at first light.”
“Aye, my lord,” Nettle said, but didn’t make a move to leave.
And she wouldn’t until Tarass did and that thought annoyed him. It wasn’t that Nettle didn’t trust him, she was doing what was proper, not leaving a female guest unattended with a male. And if he dictated otherwise, tongues would wag and Snow’s reputation could be ruined.