Emma had come across a babbling stream, the tracks she had been following having taken her off a well-worn path. While her horse drank, she discarded her cloak and knelt beside the water and got a distorted glimpse of her reflection, which made her look even worse than she already did. Dried mud spotted her face here and there and her hair hung in strings over her shoulders. Her hands were a mixture of dried mud and scratches, and she wished she had remembered to use the salve in her satchel before leaving the stable. The mixture was her own concoction she had scented with lavender and it kept her hands in fine shape, not to mention soft and smelling nice. But she had forgotten about it and now she had no time to care for her hands, or for that matter herself. She looked affright, and she doubted that even a brief washing would change that.
She went to dip her hands in the water when she caught another reflection shimmering just behind hers. It towered over her and the breadth of it made it seem like it was about to devour her.
The Highlander’s Stolen Heart
Book 1 Macinnes Sisters Trilogy