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haymaker on the deputy’s jaw. As the deputy went down, Duff took his gun and, in a rage, shot him from point-blank range.
    “Gillis! Gillis, did you get him?”
    Duff stepped back through the hedgerow and out onto the road. He was holding Gillis’s gun.
    “No, Somerled. I got Gillis,” Duff shouted.
    “There he is!” the sheriff shouted. “Shoot him, Rab, Nevin, shoot him!”
    The three shot at Duff, and Duff returned fire. Nevin went down, and when he did, the sheriff and Malcolm suddenly realized that, in seconds, their number had been decreased by half. The two men turned and ran.
    For a moment Duff considered running after them, but he gave that up. Instead, he threw the gun away, then scooped Skye into his arms to take her back to her father.

    Ian was just closing up his pub when Duff pushed in through the front door of the White Horse. He was carrying Skye in his arms.
    “Skye!” Ian shouted. “What happened? My God! What happened?”
    “It was the sheriff and his deputies,” Duff said. Duff laid Skye on the bar and Ian fell across her, sobbing loudly.
    “I killed Gillis and Nevin,” Duff said. “Sheriff Somerled and Deputy Malcolm ran away. I didn’t go after them because I wanted to bring Skye home.”
    “I thank you for that, lad,” Ian said.
    “I’m going after them now.”
    “No, don’t. You’d best be getting away.”
    “Where would I go? No matter where I go in Scotland, I’ll be a wanted man,” Duff said. “So I may as well get my revenge.”
    “No,” Ian said. “I’ve lost Skye. I’ll not be wantin’ to lose you now, for ’tis my own son you are for all that my Skye didn’t live until tomorrow when you would have wed. Go. Please.”
    “All right. I’ll just stop by my place and gather a few things.”
    “There’s no time for that,” Ian said. Opening his cash box, he took out ten ten-pound notes and thrust them in Duff’s hand. “Go.”
    “I can’t take your money.”
    “’Tis little enough,” Ian said. “Oh, and I’ve something else for you.”
    “You’ve given me enough.”
    “This be yours, already,” Ian said. “’Tis something ye left here so as to be wearin’ at your wedding.”
    Ian reached under the bar, opened a metal box, then handed an object to Duff. It was the Victoria Cross, showing a crowned lion above the crown of England, and bearing the inscription, “For Valor.”
    “Keep this with you, lad, wherever you go. And remember always God and the Queen.”
    “Thank you, Ian,” Duff said. He put the Victoria Cross in his pocket, then stepped down to look at Skye’s body. He stayed there for a long moment. Then he looked back at Ian. “Give me a piece of paper and a pen,” he said.
    Ian got a sheet of paper and a pen and handed the items to Duff. Duff began to write.

    In exchange for one hundred pounds paid in full, I, Duff Tavish MacCallister, with this instrument, do transfer ownership to Ian McGregor the three hundred acres of land known as Three Crowns, to include all buildings, improvements, appurtenances, livestock, and any and all things of value.
    Duff Tavish MacCallister.
     

    “I’m beholdin’ to you, Ian,” he said, handing the document to Ian.
    “Here, lad, you don’t want to do that,” Ian said, pushing the paper back.
    “Ian, you and I both know I will never return to Scotland. That means my land will be confiscated by the county. Don’t you know I would rather you have it?”
    Ian thought for a moment, then, nodding, he took the paper. “Aye, lad, I see your point,” he said. “But know this. If ever you should return, Three Crowns is all yours.”
    Duff shook Ian’s hand, then he went over to Skye’s body. Leaning over, he kissed her on her lips. Then straightening up, he wiped a tear away.
    “She will always be in my heart, Ian.”
    “I know, lad, I know. Now, please, be gone with you before the sheriff comes back.”
    Duff nodded and started toward the front door.
    “No, lad, they may be out there