Iain saw the man near him grasping the hammer in one of his hands and a long, wicked-looking knife in the other. “’Tis only a flesh wound,” he said, motioning his chin toward a bloody shoulder. “I can fight.”Iain nodded, knowing that as a Scot he would most assuredly have his back against any English lord. The smoke from the shot was clearing. Iain cocked and aimed his pistol toward Lord Malcolm. Oh no! He stopped, his heart dropping to his stomach.“No!” Juliet choked out, seeing it the same time Iain did. Malcolm was holding Ruck to his chest, his pistol pointed at the young man’s head.“Come out! Stand and drop your weapons or the boy dies!” Lord Malcolm jammed the gun into Ruck’s temple.Juliet let out a cry. Ruck visibly trembled from head to toe.Iain closed his eyes for a brief moment, sending up a prayer for help. He slowly stood, taking Juliet’s hand, helping her rise and looking over to the blacksmith with a nod to do as he said. He left his pistol on the stone floor.“Your knives and any other weapons, MacLeon,”
What do You think about A Highlander For Christmas?
