Arabella cursed herself a coward and patted him on the shoulder instead. She mumbled, “Thank you for your aid, my lord.”
His brow furrowed. “I’ve said to call me Calum.”
She bit her bottom lip to contain her smile over the curt, sullen command. “Aye, Calum.”
Once done with the salve, he corked the jar and returned the mixture to its pouch. He passed her the bag to hold, then plucked the fur from the ground and draped the soft material over her shoulders, blanketing her in warmth. She opened her mouth to offer her gratitude, but instead squealed when he scooped her in his arms and strode toward camp.
Unprepared for the action, she floundered a moment until he tightened his hold.
“Relax. I won’t drop you.”
His low voice rumbled in her ears and she swallowed her unease, forcing herself to go limp in his arms. The scent of his skin drifted up her nose and she repressed a shiver. The pulse in her throat thumped in wild fury and her cheeks heated. Chancing a peek at him, she suffered a stab of disappointment. He faced straight ahead with a deep-set scowl in place. Apparently, their closeness had no effect on him. She crossed her arms over her chest to resist flicking the man in the ear.
And yet, in spite of the vexing man, a feeling long absent from her life stirred inside her—safety. She felt safe in Calum’s arms.
With no notion of what her future held, she questioned when she might ever feel wholly safe again. For the moment, she closed her eyes, leaned her head on his shoulder, and savored the feeling. The fleeting sentiment passed once they entered the campsite and the man abruptly dumped her onto a pile of furs near the fire.
Arabella landed on her backside with a hard thump. She gasped in outrage and her gaze shot to Calum. Before she had a chance to berate him, the big arse stormed into the same stretch of wood he just carried her from. The urge to scream in frustration built in her throat, but she restrained herself. God’s teeth, he had to be the most contrary man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.
Rather than concern herself with the ill-mannered, brooding Highlander, she swallowed her anger and busied herself rearranging the furs beneath her. After a quick survey of the camp, she was surprised to find that the men had made such quick work of the task in the short time she had been at the stream. A few of the Highlanders moved about the clearing, involved in some chore or another, while others slumbered on pallets laid out around the fire. Against her better judgment, her gaze slipped to the forest where Calum had disappeared once more.
She could not fathom what had come over the man. Had she done something to anger him?
The furs beneath her shifted, and she glanced to her right and met a pair of deep, shining, blue eyes. The golden-haired warrior, Liam, sat a yard away with a silly grin stretched across his lips.
“Calum’s gone to attend to his personal needs.” He winked. “Do not fret, he’ll be along shortly.”
Arabella wrinkled her nose. Calum could fall into the icy brook and crack his blasted giant head on a stone for all she cared. Since Liam’s statement warranted no response, she simply shrugged and peered at a grizzled man cooking over the fire. In her present state of mind, she did not feel overly friendly. In fact, a soft pallet and a long night’s rest suited her well.
“Calum’s been remiss in introducing the men,” Liam spoke up. “That’s Will there by the fire. He cooks when we’re away from home. Says he does not trust us with his food.”
The older man in question straightened and bestowed an unpolished bow.
“Over there’s Symon, Calum’s second commander.” Liam nudged her shoulder and lowered his voice as if he imparted some great secret. “He’s a bit of a rude sort. Might want to steer clear of him.”
Symon sneered at Liam but nodded his head in her direction. Her unwanted companion smothered a laugh and pointed to a figure near their mounts.
“Seeing to the horses there is Gregor.” A lean man stepped into clear view. He shouted a greeting and waved, then returned to his duties.
Heedless of her silence, Liam carried on. “As you might’ve concluded, I’m Liam, Calum’s favorite cousin.” He brandished a hand to encompass the camp. “The rest of the men are about, here and there.”
Arabella returned her attention to Will, who stirred a large pot over the fire. He pulled a ladle from the vessel and tasted the contents. Nodding to himself, he replaced the spoon and tossed more wood on the fire.
“Aye, well. You do not have much to say, do you?” Liam laughed. “I thought most ladies loved to chatter on principle.”
She crossed her eyes in exasperation. Faith, if she did not answer the man she feared he’d never cease talking. “When will we reach my uncle’s lands?”
He barked out a laugh beside her ear and she gritted her teeth. “Well, well. Eager to be on your way, I see. Rest assured, we should reach Fraser’s keep in four days hence. Calum’ll set a slower pace once we cross the border.”
In the next breath, she could not have formed a sufficient response if she tried. Calum emerged from the shadowed forest and stalked toward the center of camp. Water dripped from his hair to his neck. The damp, unlaced tunic he wore clung to his strong shoulders and chest. Firelight caught on an expanse of his exposed skin, and her jaw fell slack at the sight.
He paused in front of her and Liam. Calum raised a brow at his cousin. “You’ve other things to do, I’m sure.”
Liam stretched his arms behind his back, supporting his weight, and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Nay, I do not believe I do, Cousin.”
Calum growled and took a threatening step forward. As agile as a cat, Liam jumped to his feet and out of harm’s way.
“All right, all right. I’m off for a wash.” Grinning, he bowed to Arabella. “A pleasure, my lady. Enjoy my cousin’s surly temper in my absence.”
Calum flung out his arm to grab Liam, but the silly man dashed away, his laughter trailing him into the forest. She ducked her head to hide her smile. Apparently, Liam irritated everyone, not just her.
Arabella lifted her head to address Calum, but he’d already turned away and rounded the fire. Will passed him a clothed bundle that he accepted with a nod. His face set with a scowl, he returned and dropped down on the furs beside her, placing a water skin between them. Then, without a word, he held out his hand, presenting her a warm oatcake.
For a moment, she simply stared at the fare in the flat of his palm. Was this his way of offering a truce?
One part of her almost refused out of spite but, thankfully, her sensible side bled through her earlier vexation. She bit her bottom lip and accepted the offer.
Midway through the plain, dry cake, she forced down a mouthful and snatched the water skin. After she’d cleared the obstruction from her throat, she grimaced and handed Calum the remaining half.
“I believe I’ve had enough.”
He lifted a brow in question.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not especially fond of oatcakes.”
“Neither am I, but they fill the belly.” Amusement sparked in his eyes. He reached in the cloth bundle and passed her an apple. “Perhaps this might appease your appetite.”
Arabella smiled. “Thank you, Calum.”
“I hope Liam did not trouble you overmuch.” He spoke around a bite of oatcake.
“Nay, he merely introduced a few of your men. Also, he revealed he was your favorite cousin.” She shrugged and bit into the apple.
His snort gave way to a deep rumble of laughter. “The fool’s my only cousin.”
She blew out an undignified breath and called Liam a rather unsavory name before she thought better of the action. Horrified by her lack of manners, she darted a startled glance at Calum. “Forgive me, I did not mean—”
“Do not fash yourself.” He laughed. “’Tis naught I’ve not said before and what the lackwit deserves.”
Her amusement bubbled over and she found herself laughing alongside Calum at his cousin’s expense. ’Twas a freeing moment, on
e she’d not experienced in a long while.
Sobering, she faced him. “You have my thanks, Calum. You and your men.” She glanced over the fire’s glowing embers. “In truth, I’d no notion whether David had delivered my missive, or how long it might take my uncle to act. I could no longer wait. My time had run out.”
“Fraser did not reveal the details of your missive, other than your brother had been slain and you were held captive.” He hesitated before asking, “What happened to Iain?”
Arabella rubbed her weary eyes and sighed. She anticipated the question, but she hardly had the fortitude to give him the thorough explanation he sought, so she stated a simple fact. “Geoffrey Longford murdered him.”
Chapter Six
Calum cracked open his eyes as the soft pink of dawn peeked through the trees. At once, his bleary gaze sought out Arabella. Nestled in a bundle of furs, she lay a short distance away, safe and sound.
He arched his back and his stiff body relaxed a measure. He scrubbed a hand over his face and scratched the whiskers along his cheek. Why had he not pressed her for details last eve?
Once she’d spoken of her brother’s murderer, the perfect opportunity presented itself, but his conscience would not allow him to continue with his questions. Especially after he’d dumped her on a pile of furs in his haste to distance himself from her. After one long, hard look at her tired, distressed face, he presented her a respite she gladly accepted. Within moments, she fell into a deep slumber, wrapped in a mass of furs from head to toe.
He, on the other hand, spent the remainder of the night propped against the base of a tree, listening to the most unnatural sounds known to man billow from the lump where she slept undisturbed.
In all his years, he would’ve never guessed such a wee scrap of a woman could expel such fierce snores. The noise resembled a wild beast caught in a snare, struggling to get free. At first, he convinced himself the sound was not as dreadful as he feared, until one of his men awoke, muttering a complaint. ’Twas a mercy the enemy had been nowhere near their camp.
Despite the disturbance, he reached one conclusion during the night. From the deliberate neglect of her health to the hopeful gleam in her eye when he carried her from the stream, the lass was going to drive him mad. There was no doubt about it.
With daylight’s fast approach, Calum shook thoughts of Arabella from his head and looked over the camp. Their small group needed to move out, and soon. He rose to his feet and stretched his arms overhead, working the sore muscles in his rigid shoulders. Then he lumbered off in the direction of the stream.
Personal matters attended to, he shuffled to the brook’s edge and plunged his head beneath the icy water, welcoming the jolt to his senses. The bone-chilling water stripped away the last remnants of sleep clouding his mind and forced him to focus on the hazards of travel. With the enemy unknown to him and his men, they’d no notion of the potential threat they might face along the way. At least until he questioned the lass.
As he lifted his head, he caught a glimpse of Liam and Symon from the corner of his eye. He got to his feet, shook the water from his hair, and moved to join the pair.
Symon’s mouth curled into a faint smile. “I’m sure you’re aware your lady’s snores would’ve given away our location had enemies been anywhere nearby.”
“She’s not my lady.” Calum glared at his commander. “And ’twas hardly that bad.”
Symon wrinkled his nose in distaste while Liam gaped.
“Aye, if you’re deaf.” Liam spared a thoughtful look. “I reckon all that noise served a purpose, though.”
Symon cast Liam a sideways glance. “What blasted purpose?”
Curious to hear the answer as well, Calum crossed his arms over his chest.
Liam shrugged. “She kept the wild animals from venturing too close to camp.”
Calum snorted, amused by his cousin’s explanation. The statement rang true to a degree. No animal in the right frame of mind would’ve entered the clearing with those infernal sounds howling through the night.
“Just listen a moment.” Liam cupped a hand to his ear and tilted his head toward camp.
Calum and Symon did as he bid, pausing to take in the noises of the surrounding wood. Within moments, he comprehended his cousin’s meaning. One distinct, yet distant sound traveled through the forest.
Liam tossed his hands up in the air. “By the Saints, you can hear the lass from here!”
His cousin’s horror-struck face, coupled with faint rumble of Arabella’s snores, stirred Calum’s humor. A guffaw tumbled out before he could recall it. Then another, and another, until wild laughter poured out of him. He clutched at the stitch in his side, unable to restrain himself. Liam and Symon joined in, their laughter resounding through the wood.
Symon managed to choke out, “And to think, Fraser wishes you to wed her.”
The words leeched the humor right out of Calum.
“Do not speak of her so,” he growled. “She’s a fine lass.”
Liam grinned. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?”
He transferred his scowl from Symon to Liam. “Are you barking mad?”
The two men burst into another round of laughter. Several harsh curses later, Calum managed to silence the pair.
“Arabella shall ride with me today.” At their raised brows, he explained, “I do not wish her to do more damage to her feet, trying to keep pace with us.”
“A sage plan,” Symon agreed.
“Have you questioned her yet?” Liam cut in.
“Christ’s bones, I’ll get the tale from her soon enough.” He shot a dark look at his cousin, who held his hands up in surrender. “I need everyone alert and on watch today.”
“Something amiss?” Symon inquired.
“Nay, but who knows?” Liam shrugged. “Better to tread on the side of caution, though.”
Symon nodded. “I’ll pass word to the men.”
The stern commander shifted to leave, but Calum grabbed his forearm. “Aye, but have a care around the lass. I do not wish to worry her.” He shook his head. “No doubt she’ll not be pleased to ride with me, and I’d rather not deal with a hysterical woman as well.”
“She does have spirit. I’ll give you that.” Symon grunted. “Now that she’s had a bit of rest, I’m certain she’ll be up for the challenge.”
Calum grimaced. Aye, he feared the same. “Come, let’s get back. ’Tis time to be on our way.”
As soon as they entered the campsite, he strode to the tree where Arabella rested and stooped beside her pile of furs. He nudged her shoulder, or at least he hoped ’twas her shoulder. Snores continued to billow through the pelts. He puffed out a breath and tried with a firmer shake, but she slept on, undisturbed. Jesu, the woman would most likely sleep through battle. After three more unsuccessful attempts, he grabbed both her shoulders and shook, bellowing her name.
She came awake with a start, throwing the covers from her head. Ignoring his men’s smothered laughter, Calum regarded her with amusement. Her bright locks were an untidy mess and her skin was flushed pink. She squinted against the early light of day. As he took in every inch of her comely face, another image of her in a similar disheveled state sprang to mind. Namely, one involving her in his bed. He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from hauling her against his chest and kissing those plump, parted lips of hers.
Hell, he was losing his mind.
Arabella stifled a yawn. “Did I oversleep?”
“Nay.” He swallowed hard and glanced away from the tempting sight of her. “Your clothes are dry by the stream. I’ll carry you there so that you might redress. Not to rush you, but we must leave soon.”
She gave a halfhearted nod, and he lifted her and the furs in his arms. He retraced his steps to the stream and placed her on the same rock she’d sat upon the day before when he found her. Untying the pouch of salve at his belt, he handed her the jar.
“Lather more on your feet. To keep infection from settin
g in.” He hesitated long enough to quell the impulse to see to her feet himself. “Call for me when you’ve finished and I’ll return for you.”
Allowing her privacy, he turned away and retreated to camp. In a bid to dismiss his concern for her, he saddled his stallion and tied off his bags, but his nagging thoughts would not cease. He reasoned this odd need to look after her welfare was instinct, a natural response. He’d spent his life protecting others—his family, his clan. ’Tis what any man of his station would do. Yet, she was not his to care for. A fact he would do well to remember for the duration of their journey.
Damn, ’twas far too early in the day for him to think this much. He passed a hand over his damp hair and swung around in time to witness Arabella’s mad dash through camp with the furs bundled in her arms.
Calum dropped his head back to stare at the tree branches overhead. Why could the stubborn woman not obey a simple request? Just once?
Grappling for patience, he marched toward her while she packed away her belongings in her satchel. He grabbed her upper arm. “I told you to call for me.”
Her bold, heated gaze met his, and she lifted her chin in a clear challenge. “Thank you for the concern, but I’m quite well today. Your salve does, indeed, work wonders.” Her voice dripped with such sweetness his teeth ached. “I’ll be ready in a few moments.”
He paused in disbelief, giving her a chance to wriggle free from his hold. She turned her back to him and continued to fumble through her bag. Annoyed by the blatant disregard, he inhaled a deep breath to quash the sudden impulse to shake her. Did she give any thought to her own welfare?
Christ, Fraser was right. She was in sore need of a protector. Clearly, that included safeguarding her from herself—the blasted, reckless woman.
Calum grasped her arm and spun her to face him. “You need to understand the difference between a request and an order. When I tell you to do something, you do it.”
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