“She heard whispers. "Her horse is over there. She has to be nearby." More hushed voices. "What if she didna ride with her da this time on the hunt?" "He said she was coming. She always goes on the hunt with her da. 'Tis her horse. She is hiding." "He willna like it if we return without her." The voices faded into the distance. The tromping of boots walking through leaves and stepping on twigs moved away. Her heart thumped fast. Her blood pounded in her ears. Her nose twitched, tickled, the urge...nt compulsion to sneeze as she breathed in the moldy leaves, causing her to feel panic. She darned not move. Dared not unsettle the blanket of leaves hiding her. What if one of the men was still standing nearby, watching, waiting while the others travelled farther away? Then as soon as she stirred, he'd pounce on her. Forever, it seemed, she waited. Then horses ran through the woods, and the MacNeill men spoke with one another some distance from her hiding place.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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