by Aileen Adams
17
At first, Sarah only sensed a terrible pounding in her head. Other bits and pieces of awareness followed. She felt warm. Something solid against her back, surrounded by what almost felt like a blanket. Something gently soothed her cheek. Then something wet and liquid touched her lips.
She sensed rather than felt movement on her legs, then her arms. Then gentle pressure on her torso, below her breasts. The pressure didn't elicit pain, but was almost gentle in its exploration.
Finally, over the ringing in her ears and as if from a great distance, she heard voices.
Everything came rushing back to her.
The Orkneys. The camp under attack. Scrambling for the shelter of the woods only to be attacked by Ceana; choking her, banging her head against the ground.
Then something hard crashing into her forehead, sending her into a black oblivion.
Forcing her eyes open, she jolted her body forward. She had to escape! Had to get away from Ceana! She had to—
“Sarah… Sarah, hold still!”
The voice was close to her ear, so close she felt the warmth of breath on it. The deep rumble and tone of voice.
Phillip?
Her vision was still fuzzy around the edges, and even blinking caused pain to shoot through her skull. She tried to lift a hand up to grasp her head, but it was caught in a large, warm hand.
“You're right, Sarah. It's Phillip.”
A sudden desire to relax, to lean against him for support swept through her, but the after-effects of her second kidnapping elicited roiling emotion.
Despite Phillip’s urgings to sit still, she tried to pull away from his warmth and his support.
He let her. S
he reached a hand up to cradle her aching head while her vision cleared. Maccay and Hugh knelt in front of her, both looking at her with concern. She tried to turn her head, to look over her shoulder at Phillip, but even the slightest movement caused pain.
Though she was relieved that she was no longer at the mercy of Ceana and the Orkney clan, she was still trapped. She wanted to go home.
Now!
But she felt so weak. Exhausted. She tried to speak; nothing but a hoarse croak escaped her throat.
Why did her throat hurt so?
Then she remembered. Ceana's hands wrapped around her neck, trying to squeeze the life out of her.
Her eyes widened.
“Ceana?” she gasped.
“She's gone,” Phillip replied, urging her to lean back against him again.
She resisted.
With every passing second, her faculties returned. While the pain in her head thudded mercilessly and her throat felt sore, she didn't feel as if she were seriously injured. Phillip reached around her torso for her hands. She tried to slap his hands away, but he caught hers in his.
So strong, so warm, so… comforting.
No! This was not right! Nothing had been right for days.
She struggled to sit up.
Finally, perhaps afraid of hurting her, he relinquished his grip on her. Though it took every ounce of strength she had, she scrambled away from him, enough to sit on her own, legs bent to the side, eyeing the three of them as they in turn stared back at her.
“Where…” she swallowed, winced, and tried again. “Where are the Orkneys?”
“Gone,” Maccay grinned. “We got a couple of them, but then Fergus decided that he didn't want to have anything more to do with Ceana.”
She stared at Maccay a moment, and then turned her gaze toward Phillip. “Take me home.”
He slowly shook his head. “I can't do that.”
Unconsciously, her hands balled into fists. She lifted her chin, ignoring the pain rattling through her skull. Forming words and speaking them was difficult. She frowned, but even that caused pain.
“Lavender.”
Phillip frowned, confused. “What?”
“Or chamomile.”
He shook his head again, not understanding.
“For my pains,” she explained, gesturing into the woods. “Surely you can find some?”
Phillip nodded and sent Hugh and Maccay in search of the flowers.
She tried to put on a brave front, she felt weak and vulnerable.
Especially with Phillip staring at her so fiercely.
Why was he looking at her like that? S
he touched her hand to her face and felt dried blood. She gently explored the gash on her forehead and then the very tender and swollen lump on the back of her head. She knew her hair was drenched with the blood. She felt the tangles. It probably looked worse than it was. Scalp wounds always bled a lot.
She was tired. Tired of all of it.
“I want to go home.”
Phillip frowned. “I can't let you go home just yet,” he said softly.
“Why not?”
“You're not safe there.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. The cut on her lip opened, causing renewed waves of pain.
What was he talking about? She wasn't safe there? As if she was safer at Duncan Manor? Held against her will?
“I promised I would take you back home, Sarah. I will keep my word. But before I do, I need to know. Who's been beating you?”
“You mean besides Ceana and Fergus Orkney?”
He scowled, glared off into the distance, making an obvious effort to get his anger under control. He finally turned back to her, his eyes locked on hers.
“Who?”
She started to frown but changed her mind. Too painful. “Why do you care? What is it to you?”
He shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious. “I don't like to see women abused.”
She lifted an eyebrow, regretting even that small movement. Every word she struggled to get past her throat was an effort, but her anger at her entire situation gave her strength.
“And yet you take me from my home? My family—”
“You have a family?”
She realized that she had said too much and sighed. Looked around and gestured with her hand. “Look at me now. Where am I?”
“Still on my lands,” he replied. “You don’t have to worry about the Orkneys. They will not come back. And Ceana? She would not dare. She is banished.”
“And me?”
“What do you mean?”
How could the man be so obtuse? “I want to go home, Phillip.”
“You are not safe there,” he said simply.
Though it caused pain, she frowned. “And I'm safe here? What if you had not found me? What if—”
“I did.”
“What if Ceana had succeeded in killing me?”
He didn't have an answer for that.
“I want to go home,” she repeated. “I have to go home!”
“Why?”
The question startled her. Why? “Because I don't belong here. This is not my home.”
“Tell me who has abused you.”
Her temper rose. She could feel the pulse in her neck throbbing with more than pain now. How could he possibly be asking her such questions? Even more importantly, why did he care?
“You are!” she snapped.
He wheeled back as if she had struck him. “I have not laid a hand on you,” he protested, eyes wide with surprise. “I have tried to keep you safe. I rescued you from the Orkneys—”
“I wouldn’t be here… I wouldn't be in so much trouble if you had not kidnapped me in the first place!”
The string of words left her throat burning. She wanted to ask for more water, but didn't. She didn't want anything from him. She didn't want his concern or his kindness. She wanted to go home!
“Tell me, Sarah—and I will take you home.”
“I don't believe you.”
He stared at her, his expression calm, though she saw the pulse jumping in his throat. He gazed into the woods, maybe wondering where Hugh and Maccay had disappeared to in their search for flowers. Thinking of a response that she would believe? He looked tired.
She had to admit that she was grateful that he had come after her, but had he done so for her ,or to exact his revenge on Ceana?
“How's Jake?”
The question seemed to startle him. “He's doing much better.”
“Then there's no reason not to take me back home. Now.”
He shook his head. “Not until you tell me where you got those bruises and those scars.”
Why was he being so stubborn?
“It's not your concern!”
She had a feeling if she told him the truth that he would never let her return. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn't it?
She was at his mercy, and she knew it. She knew very well that she would've gotten lost in the woods by herself. Still, the desperate desire to escape, to get away, to at least try to make it back down to Kirkcaldy is what had propelled her out of Duncan Manor in the first place.
“No. It should not matter to you at all.” She scowled, ignoring the throb of pain in her skull. “You men are all the same. You think you can—”
“So it is a man,” he said with a self-satisfied tone. “A husband?”
The sound that made it out of her throat answered that question for him.
“A brother?”
“It doesn't matter!” She tried to speak softly though firmly. Why was he doing this to her? “Why do you care, Phillip? I am nothing to you—”
“No? Then why did I come after you?”
“Did you?”
“What do you mean?” He stared at her as if the question was ludicrous. “Of course I came after you. You think I would let you be taken by the Orkneys?”
“What about Ceana?”
“I didn't know until after I discovered you missing and that you were seen in the company of an Orkney that Ceana was with them.”
She couldn't help but wonder. “Why?”
“Why what?”
He was growing frustrated, but she needed an answer.
“So why did you come after me?”
He huffed impatiently. “Because I didn't want anything bad to happen to you! I warned you about running away, didn’t I? You would've gotten lost, attacked by wild animals, or, as I warned you, confronted by outlaws—”
“And again, I remind you that I wouldn't be in this predicament if it were not for you!”
Every word she spoke left her throat raw and scratchy. She was through talking. She tried to get to her feet but was stunned by the lack of response of her muscles. Phillip quickly got to his feet and approached to help her. She swatted away his hand.
“Leave me alone!”
“And where do you think you're going?” he asked, scowling down at her.
“If you must know—”
“You cannot venture into the woods alone. I forbid it!”
She sputtered for several seconds, amazed by his arrogant audacity. “Forbid it? I am not your property!” She was startled when he reached down for her, clasped her about her shoulders, and helped her to her feet.
“Don't be so stubborn!” He shook his head. “Can't you see that I care for you? I don't—”
He paused, as if realizing what he had just said.
She saw his brief confusion, the way he looked at her.
Had he meant it? And even if he did, what did it matter?
He kidnapped her! He was a Highlander! He was—
His hand lifted to gently caress her cheek. His thumb traced the contours of her lip, careful to avoid the cut on it.
Everywhere his finger touched felt warm.
“Don't you see, Sarah? The truth of the matter is, I don't want to let you go. And most especially not back to a place where someone is hurting you.”
What was he saying? How could he care for her? He didn't even know her! He had kidnapped her, kept her against her will. But he hadn't hurt her. He had fed and clothed her and even offered her a bedchamber, told his people to do whatever she asked so that Jake had a chance to live.
The realization had an impact on her. No, he should not have kidnapped her. That was the truth and would always be so. But she also had to be honest with herself.
After those first frightening hours after they had kidnapped her from the bluff above the shore, she had never felt threatened.
“I was desperate, Sarah,” he continued. “Desperate to save my brother's life. I regret, and will always regret, taking you like that from your home. I cannot take it back. And I will return you as I promised, but only if I am sure you will be safe from harm.”
And if she couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear? Then what?
She searched her heart. While at Duncan Manor, and for the first time in many years, she had not had to be on her guard from Patrick’s drunken rages.
She had known, after those first hours that Phillip would not strike her. She didn’t have to worry about being beaten.
Still, her main concern was Heather. Everything for Heather. And if she told him the truth? If she told him what he wanted to know? Would he help her?
Hugh and Maccay emerged from the woods, their hands empty. They looked at Phillip, then at her in apology.
“We couldn’t find—”
“It is of no matter,” she told them. “It’s all right. I’m feeling better now anyway.” She turned back to Phillip. “If I tell you, will you promise not to take me back to Duncan Manor?”
He frowned.
“If I am assured of your safety in Kirkcaldy, I give you my word that I will take you back. But you must tell me the truth. Why are you so desperate to return? And if I take you back, will someone lay his hands on you?”
Did she dare hope? Was he telling her the truth? Was she? He wanted honesty. Well, the truth was she felt drawn to him.
She, Sarah MacDonald, attracted to a Highlander, and one who had kidnapped her no less.
Would wonders never cease?
The thought of escaping Patrick’s drunken rages for the rest of her life was tempting. But not without Heather.
Never without Heather.
“Tell me, Sarah. I will try to help you.” He reached for her hand and grasped it within his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Tell me.”
She swallowed with difficulty, and then, her body trembling with uncertainty, she divulged the truth.
“I have no husband, no brother in Kirkcaldy.”
He waited patiently for her to continue.
“But I have a sister, a younger sister named Heather… she is two years younger than myself. I have protected her most of my life.”
“Protected her from what?” he asked quietly.
“My stepfather.”
She saw his jaw tighten, his eyes narrow.
“Your stepfather beats you? And your sister?”
She shook her head, gingerly. “Not if I can help it.” Warm tears flooded her eyes. “Every day that I am gone though, I worry that he is taking his anger out on her. I must…” She choked back a wave of emotion. “I must return to Kirkcaldy. To protect my sister.”
Hugh and Maccay stepped closer to stand beside Phillip.
“Tell us everything,” he bade.
So she did.
About her mother’s death, about Patrick’s hatred for her, his blaming her for his wife’s death. The drinking, the beatings, though she left most of those details out.
And about Heather. Sweet, gentle Heather, who, if she had anything to say about it, would never again feel Patrick’s hand on her cheek.
When she finished, the trio of men stared down at her, every one of them without expression.
She focused on Phillip.
What was he thinking? Had she made a mistake divulging everything? To her dismay, he slowly shook his head. Her heart clenched, and her stomach felt hollow.
She knew it. She wanted to cry. She should've known that he wasn't going to keep his word.
No man kept his word, at least not in her experience. Forcing herself to stand tall, she lifted her chin in defiance.
“You're not going to let me go back
home, are you?”
“No.”
She stood frozen, inside and out.
His next words took her breath away.
“We will return to Kirkcaldy, but not to take you back home.”
What was he saying?
“What do you mean? Why return to Kirkcaldy if you're not going to take me home?”
She didn't understand.
“We'll go fetch your sister. Then, if it is your wish, we will return to the Highlands, where your stepfather can never hurt you again. Or your sister.”
Sarah wasn't sure exactly how it happened, or what came over her, but in a matter of seconds, her spirit had transformed from despair to jubilant.
Quite to her dismay, and perhaps even more to Phillip’s, she literally flung herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
She rested her head against his chest, heart his steady heartbeat in her ear, and experienced a strong feeling of gratitude and affection for the man.
She hugged him tightly, wordless in her gratitude.
Hugh and Maccay chuckled, and then Phillip wrapped his own arms around her. Gentle yet firm and supportive.
Her heart soared.
* * *
Sarah struggled against her impatience and her desire to be reunited with her sister.
Phillip, Maccay, and Hugh road slowly and cautiously through the land, much the way they had done when they first ventured south to capture the healer, Sarah MacDonald.
Still surprised by the way things had turned out, and even more dismayed by her story, Phillip no longer felt guilty for kidnapping her. While he hid it well, his fury toward her stepfather knew no bounds. To take out one's anger on someone smaller, defenseless, and female no less, was nothing more than the act of a coward.
Since he had told Sarah what he intended, her entire demeanor had changed. No longer quite so reserved, he often found her smiling, humming to herself, nearly giddy with excitement.
Over the past two days, her bruises darkened—on her face and around her throat—but she looked content and happy.
She loved her younger sister with fierce devotion and loyalty, as he did Jake.
He understood.
She also understood his dedication to his brother, and the reason why he had made the decisions he had.
No, it was not right that he kidnapped her, but he could truthfully say now that he did not regret it. He would take Sarah and Heather back to Duncan Manor. There they could decide what they wanted to do.