Their grip became firmer. With all his strength, he lifted. Gritting his teeth, he inched back against the stone, levering his brother’s body upward. As soon as humanly possible, Hawk released his grasp on David, caught hold of the stone ledge, andpropelled himself upward and out of the void. He landed beside David. For a moment, they lay together, panting, breathing.
“Son of a bitch!” Hawk muttered, then said in the darkness, “Brother, you are one competent white man.”
David smiled to himself with vast relief. “Thank you. You’re quite an acceptable American heathen yourself.”
“Which part is worse, the American or the heathen?”
“I shouldn’t have had you come here,” David said.
“Because of this?” Hawk queried.
“Someone is determined to rid the world—or Craig Rock, at the very least—of Douglases.”
“Umm,” Hawk mused. “I should have stayed home in the middle of the Sioux conflict.”
“You’ll go back to it anyway, and you know it.”
“Maybe it will all work itself out while I’m here abroad.”
“Aye, and maybe the Scots will awaken one day and love all things English.” He sat up suddenly, realizing that Shawna had not come back.
“Lady MacGinnis left us.”
Hawk leaped to his feet, reaching for his brother’s hand. “Something has happened to her,” he said worriedly.
“Aye, the greed of her kin,” David said, but he was up as well. He was glad of the darkness then, hiding the worry that surely played upon his features. She had come here with Hawk, and he had nearly been killed. She had gone for the rope to save him. she had never returned.
“No, David, I don’t believe that—” Hawk began, then broke off with a shrug.
David was condemning her for what had happened here today. But it didn’t matter. He was already hurrying along through the tunnel, moving swiftly and easily despite the darkness.
“Get up.”
Shawna blinked, aware of the voice nearby and overwhelmingly aware of feeling ill. She swallowed, praying that she wasn’t going to vomit.
“Shawna, get up.”
“I can’t.”
Her head was spinning. The more it spun, the more afraid she was that she was going to be sick.
“Shawna—”
Light flooded into her eyes. She blinked and cringed against it. Who had come, who was talking to her? Someone who intended to kill her?
Death seemed a mercy at this moment.
“Shawna!”
Her name was spoken harshly. David. He was kneeling before her, holding the lantern above her face. She couldn’t see his features. The light was all but blinding her.
“What happened?”
It was another voice. A kinder, gentler voice.
The kinder, gentler voice of a savage. Hawk.
He was hunkered down on her other side, and she could see without being blinded by the glare of the lantern.