MacKinnon’s Rangers 03.5 - Upon A Winter's Night by Pamela Clare Page A

interrupted when Miss Janssen appeared at their table. She’d watched them all morning, seeming pensive now rather than angry.

    "Pardon me." She looked over at Connor. "May I speak with you?"

    Connor stood and followed her a short distance.

    "Is what you’ve told me true? Does Killy truly feel…affection for me?"

    Connor forgot his rage for a moment. "Aye, miss, he does. I heard him say wi ’ my own ears that he was afraid to ask you to wed him for fear you’d refuse."

    She held Connor’s gaze for a good, long moment, as if measuring the truth of his words, then gave a nod as if something had been decided, her lips curving into the first smile he’d ever seen on her face. "I’ll bring you all more coffee."

    And Connor saw why Killy thought her handsome. Without a frown weighing down her features, she was quite bonnie.

    * * *

    They paid for their room and board and left the tavern, making their way up the hill toward the fort, snow falling in thick, fat flakes.

    Connor looked up at the leaden sky. "It will be a long trek home."

    "Aye." Morgan trudged along on his left. "We must leave soon if we wish to make it back to the farm in time for Christmas Eve."

    Connor felt that pull — the tug of home and hearth, wife and child. He, too, wished to be home for Christmas. He wanted to see Sarah’s eyes when he slipped that gold wedding band on her finger, wanted to watch it glint in the candlelight as she played at her harpsichord, wanted to hold his son and kiss his sweet, downy hair.

    But their duty to the men came first. It would not do for them to enjoy the warmth of their fires and the company of their women when men who’d fought for them suffered want. That would be the same as turning their backs on their clan. For the Rangers were their clan, bound to them as brothers by the blood they’d lost and spilled together.

    Iain’s voice interrupted Connor’s thoughts. "Do naugh ’ that might cause Haviland to arrest us. Dinnae threaten him. Dinnae speak a word that he might deem treasonous."

    Connor realized that Iain was looking at him. "Why do you speak only to me and no’ to Morgan?"

    "Because I ken my brothers well." A grin tugged at Iain’s lips.

    They reached the fort quickly and were immediately given an audience with Haviland . This unnerved Connor, a shadow of warning passing over his heart. He glanced about covertly, and what he saw was not to his liking.

    "Aye, I see it," Morgan said in Gaelic. "There are twice the number of redcoats at the door, and Haviland has posted sentries in the hallway that were not there yesterday."

    "He must be expectin ’ trouble," Iain said.

    "Or hopin ’ for it." Connor’s sense of foreboding grew stronger. "They haven’t tried to disarm us this time."

    Something about it reminded him of the day so long ago when Wentworth had arrested them on false charges of murder. But Haviland was not Wentworth, for he wasn’t nearly as wily, nor did his cruelty serve a purpose. Wentworth had wanted to force them to fight for him. Haviland seemed to seek only to humiliate them — or ruin them.

    They found Haviland at Wentworth’s writing table just as he’d been yesterday. "You have returned, MacKinnon. Show me proof."

    Iain stepped forward. "We searched the city, but couldna find a single officer or soldier who’d served wi ’ Wentworth, so I have nothin’ more to show you than I did yesterday. But I swear to you that Wentworth saw to the payin ’ of my men. The proof you seek is written in the ledgers his clerk kept at Fort Edward. Either those ledgers are already here in your possession, or they remain at Fort Edward. If you would bring them, this matter could be easily settled."

    "Wentworth’s ledgers? I know not what became of them. I passed through Fort Edward on my way here, of course, but I saw no ledgers. Perhaps they were lost in the same battle where he was taken captive. Although I could dispatch a messenger and ask the commanding officer at