“Damn it, Keith, no. I’ve nay been outside! I want to breathe Scottish air and not the stale air of my chamber. Walk with me. I’ve a need to begin training.”
“Cameron, I doona believe that is a good-”
“Yer opinion is noted, Keith. Now, hand me a damn sword and spar with me.”
Left without an adequate reason, he grabbed his and Cameron’s swords, and followed his arrogant, stubborn brother outside. Before falling into step behind Cameron, he alerted one warriors of Cameron’s intent that day. The warrior ran to warn Aidan that his older brother was at last walking about.
Keith hoped that Aidan hid and that the clan remained quiet regarding Abby. His brother needed to reacquire more of his strength before he had his heart and soul ripped out of his chest.
Yet another week elapsed and Cameron had become intolerable. Though the family was happy he’d regained his health, he was irritable. Everyday, without pause, he went outside to spar with his warriors. He was gaining the muscle he’d lost and still more. His men would cheer him, believing it a miracle that their laird had become hale again in such little time. Bess, however, clucked like a mother hen, warning him about his quickly healing wound. Cameron paid no heed, though, wanting to regain his physical strength quicker.
When Abby returned, he didn’t want her worrying over his condition. He wanted to be as hale as he could be when she arrived.
Seeing that he had recovered well, Keith began discussing with the others the manner in which he would tell Cameron about Abby. Cameron had been asking more questions about her return and they’d run out of excuses as to why he couldn’t retrieve her or join her himself.
They soon realized that the time to tell him had come earlier than they’d expected or wanted.
It was approaching a month since Cameron had first awakened. He was strutting outside, angry that he’d not gotten the answers he’d wanted to hear from Keith. He wanted to know where his wife was. If she still hadn’t met with her mother, then he wanted to wait there with her.
Was something wrong?
Had something happened?
Keith had assured him that all was well.
Cameron had walked over to the barracks to check on his men and to goad a few into a sparring. When he walked out, he thought he saw Aidan rounding the corner in a hurry.
Eager, Cameron rushed in that direction. If Aidan had returned, then his Abby should be here, too. When Cameron rounded the corner, however, he didn’t see Aidan. He came to a stop, wondering if perhaps his eyes had deceived him. Shrugging, and believing his eyes had tricked him into seeing what he wanted them to see, he made his way over to where his men waited for him.
After sparring with three men, and besting them within mere moments, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. It had been four weeks that she’d left.
How could he have ignored the length of her absence?
Four weeks?
It did not take much time to ride to the border. Had Haynsworth found out about Diane’s scheme to leave him? Had the bastard found Aidan and the men, and begun to fight them? Aidan wouldn’t have had a man to spare to return here and ask for more assistance.
Fear sizzled down his spine at the thought of his Abby in that kind of danger.
Cameron stopped and told the men he was done sparring for the day. After their disappointed grunts, he left them, heading towards the castle.
Damn it. What was wrong with him? His son was a full month older now than when he’d awoken and his wife had missed that time with Trystan- and with Cameron.
No. This delay was inexcusable.
Something was wrong- very wrong.
Marching into the great room, he stopped cold. Sitting at the table was his family, and Aidan, all staring at him in surprise. They looked as guilty as a child who’d stolen fruit before supper.
Abby, he immediately noticed, was not there.
He suddenly felt the tension in the room and felt his own fury rise.
Where the hell was his wife?
“Where is my wife?” he asked tightly.
They simply blinked at him, making him angrier. His eyes grew to a steely-stormy silver. He narrowed his gaze and pursed his lips. His nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. They were not telling him something, which both alarmed him and infuriated him.
“Ye will tell me now!” he roared, and his voice echoed throughout the castle. “I am still yer laird, injury or nay! Ye. Will. Tell. Me. Where. My. Wife. Is!” he said through clenched teeth.
“Sit down,” Keith said, nodding to a chair.
“I will not,” Cameron snarled. He looked like a man entering combat.
“Ye must,” Alice commanded.
“No!” he bellowed. “Ye will tell me now, damn it, or so help me God I will search all of Scotland for her.”
Alice and Amy began tearing. Cameron looked at them with wide eyes.
Had something happened to his Abby?
“What has occurred?” he asked impatiently, his heart picking up speed.
“Cameron,” Keith sighed. He blew another breath through his mouth, his cheeks inflating briefly. “Something has happened, Cameron.”
Cameron looked at Aidan with a raised eyebrow. “Is she injured? Did ye not take sufficient men?” Cameron asked, finding it hard to breathe.
Aidan cleared his throat. “I never left, and neither did any of the other men, Cameron,” he said, lowering his gaze, unable to meet his older brother’s piercing stare.
“Cameron, Abby-”
Cameron’s steely gaze snapped to Keith’s mournful eyes. Keith stopped speaking. Watching Cameron, they knew when he’d figured it out.
“No,” he said hoarsely.
“Cameron, Abigail had followed ye- us- to battle when we marched to Haynsworth’s. She left-”
“No,” he said, with a shake of his head. “Ye lie,” he said contemptuously, marching out of the castle.
They exchanged surprised glances at one another before Keith hurriedly followed. Aidan pushed back his chair, and it crashed on the floor. They all rushed outside to see where Cameron was going.
“Cameron!” Keith yelled from a couple of feet behind his retreating form. Cameron stopped but didn’t turn around.
Cameron’s gut clenched. If he didn’t hear Keith’s explanation, then his worst nightmare and fears wouldn’t come true. If he closed his ears then his wife would still be-
“She followed a trail left by Gillyanne. Gillyanne had taken Trystan and left a note for Abby to follow the path of one of the herbs she’d used on Abby. She’d ordered Abby to go alone. Abby left Patrick a note, explaining why she’d left.”
Keith stopped speaking. He’d been shouting to his brother who still had his back turned to him. He hadn’t seen Cameron move an inch and wasn’t even certain that he’d breathed in the last couple of minutes.
“I can only tell ye what Aidan and I saw,” Keith said, clenching his teeth as emotion hit him hard. “We had finished battling the second group of Englishmen, and after we told the men to enjoy a respite, we looked around to find ye, only we didna.” He inhaled deeply and began anew. “We figured ye were taking tally of the fallen men. It was so dark, that we couldna see the length of the battleground,” he said, his voice still raised.
“When lightning illuminated the sky, we saw a woman. It was Abb…,” he said, clearing his throat as his voice trembled. “It was Abby. There was an Englishman behind her, with his sword raised.” Keith stopped when Cameron turned around. The look on his brother’s face made Keith close his eyes.
Cameron’s face was a combination of anguish and rage.
“We tried to shout to her, to warn her, but it was too late. We saw-”
Cameron shook his head. “No,” he said forcefully.
“Ye were in front of her, on the muddy ground but-”
“NO!” he bellowed, running with no direction. He ran too fast for Keith and Aidan to catch up to him. Alice and Amy stayed in front of the ca
stle, quietly crying.
Cameron ran. His heart- his heart was beating so fast, it nearly came out of his chest.
So many thoughts!
So many questions!
All at once.
They all ran through his head in so many different directions like a herd of scared sheep.
The night Keith spoke of came to him in bits and pieces- it was so fragmented, he barely made sense of it.
Abby had been there.
She’d killed the man who had felled him. She’d crumbled onto the ground next to his body. She rose above him, her sweet face pained as she watched him slip away.
She’d had their son.
He had been able to tell her that he loved her, despite feeling the Lord’s tug on his soul.
He had been able to move his eyes and saw the man looming behind her.
Keith and Aidan stopped when Cameron did. Cameron stood dumbfounded, shaking his head. He had his back to them.
“Cameron?” Aidan said, but Keith shook his head.
Cameron raised a trembling hand, wanting them to keep quiet. He let his hand fall away.
“Leave me.”
And they did.
Cameron sat alone, staring at nothing in particular. His mind was focused on that night.
He’d tried to warn her, but it had been too late. The sword came down on her. He’d gone into shock after that.
“Nooo!” he bellowed in anguish.
He looked up to the sky, his muscles visibly straining in his skin. “Ah-bby!” he roared, sounding like an injured beast. Again, he bellowed Abby’s name from the very depths of his soul. He began pounding the ground, crazed.
Maddened.
“Abby,” he whispered desperately.
His war with the ground continued despite his bloodied fists.
“Cameron!”
Alice yelled when she saw her son’s bloodied hands. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
She saw death.
Aidan brought his hand up to his head.
This was bad. Verra bad, Aidan thought.
Cameron marched into the great room, his eyes searching for one of them.
“Where is her body? Did ye bury her?”
Keith had closed his eyes when he saw Cameron enter. He opened them again, just barely meeting his brother’s flat, dead gaze.
“They took her body,” Keith whispered.
Cameron’s jaw clenched. It seemed as if Cameron wasn’t going to say a word. He stayed quiet for a long moment.
“Tell me ye jest, Keith. Tell me that I at least have her body here,” Cameron said brokenly.
Keith saw his brother’s shudder and felt actual tears rise in his own eyes. It took him a few moments to be able to respond.
“I canna tell ye that, Brother,” he murmured. “For it would be a lie. I’m sorry we didna reach her in time, Cameron. I’m so sorry,” Keith said painfully, barely able to finish his sentence. He closed his eyes, not able to see his brother’s anguish any longer.
“I remember the sword coming down and her falling,” Cameron said.
Keith realized that he’d felt responsible for Abby’s death. When Cameron had awoken that day and had insinuated that Keith had placed Abby in danger, it had struck a nerve in Keith. He hadn’t feigned all of the indignation because he had felt guilty- he had felt responsible.
“Why would they kill her? Why take her body?”
He looked away as in thought. The family continued to stare at him, speechless.
“Son, I-”
Alice stopped speaking when Cameron began shaking his head. Determination forced out the despair and rage in his eyes.
“Nay. I doona believe it.”
He turned to leave the keep.
They looked at each other, dumbfounded. Some of them began to sputter, looking for something to say.
“Cameron?”
It was Aidan who stood and shouted.
Cameron turned around and waited. Aidan supposed that was his prompt.
“Ye doona believe what?”
“That she’s dead.”
Keith muttered under his breath. Alice sighed and looked like she’d cry again. Amy was much the same. Aidan was the only one possessing movement in his tongue.
“Cameron, we saw what he did to her. Ye saw what he did to her. There’s nay doubt.”
Cameron looked unmoved.
“Son. Are ye sound of mind? D’ye need some rest?”
“I’m well, Mother.”
“Denying that she is dead does no one, least of all ye, any good, Cameron.” Keith finally said.
“She. Isna. Dead.”
He turned and strode towards the entrance. “I need to wash myself, and I desire to do it in the loch.”
“Cameron!” Keith yelled. “Ye canna believe that she is alive. We would’ve seen it.”
“Cameron, please!”
At his mother’s plea, he turned and walked back. He noticed their faces reflected their concern for him.
“I would know if she was dead.”
He saw the doubt and worry in their eyes.
“Doona pity me. Doona question my mind. She isna dead. D’ye known how I know?”
Only Amy shook her head.
“Because of this.” He touched his chest where his heart was, and his voice dropped an octave.
“It. Still. Beats.”
He continued passionately, and saliva few from his mouth. “I still breathe.” He raised his fists and flexed the muscles, causing his veins to bulge. “Because I know in here.” He pounded his chest, and his lips twisted over his clenched jaw.
“Because if that angel died, the heavens would weep. Rain made of her blood would fall from the Heavens and cover the land in red.”
He looked away to gather his thoughts.
“Because I’m still alive! Because if she were dead, my life would end. The sun wouldna be in my sky. My heart would cease beating. My soul would be wrenched savagely out of me, and my dead body would fall onto the ground.”
He shook his head. “Our souls are one. They merged together long ago, so that when one part dies, the other would to.”
Cameron looked at all of them in the eyes. “Damned if I am nay still breathing. Whatever stone I must turn, whatever distance I must travel, understand me now-”
He stopped and waited for them to fully look at him.
“Until I breathe my last breath, until my heart thumps its last beat, and until my soul is rent from me, I will search for my wife.”
He looked pointedly at Aidan, Keith, and Patrick.
“Ready three quarters of our force. Leave behind the remainder to guard. I doona expect any attacks from anyone save for that English bastard. I want everyone at the ready to leave in a fortnight, no longer. I want the fittest warriors to spar with me. I want relentless training until we depart. We are going to be more than just indestructible.”
He paused.
“We’re going to be immortal.”
Alice sighed and closed her eyes. “Cameron, I-”
“Mother, I love ye, but I willna be dissuaded.” He made sure he had their attention.
“It is simple. I live because she lives. My heart beats because hers does. My wife is somewhere and I’ve a notion where she is.”
He paused.
“She. Is. Mine.” Cameron snarled and beat his chest.
He made eye contact with each of them before continuing.
“I will find her…and when I do, I will kill all those responsible and bathe in their blood.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Two weeks later
“Are the men ready?” Cameron asked. His voice held all the warmth of a Highland winter.
He hugged his son closer to him, who was busy playing with Cameron’s long beard. In the previous two weeks, when he wasn’t pushing his warriors into the ground with training, he was carrying Trystan on him with the use of plaid wrapped around his body. Trystan was never too far away from his father.<
br />
Cameron had developed a specific routine. Waking up with the rising sun, he’d take care of his and his son’s needs- food, calls of nature, and the like. His son, whom slept next to his father, rarely went hours without his father’s presence. Cameron would leave his son in Alice’s care while he went outside to vigorously train. He’d been committed to regaining his full health. The work and time spent on that goal had been successful- he was massively built now- even bigger than he had been before his injury. Not one ounce of fat was on his muscular frame. His larger muscles rolled as he prowled through the castle, through his land.
After Cameron trained for a couple of hours, he’d go inside to get his son, only to return outside to allow his son to breathe “fresh Scottish air,” as he’d stated it. In wrapping Trystan on his body while riding the large beast, Cameron was slowly getting him accustomed to his large warhorse. He’d also take Owen outside, finding that Trystan’s cousin taught his son things in their own baby language that Cameron had yet to understand.
After the sun peaked in the sky, he’d leave his son with Alice again, and stalk outside to spar with his men. He was training and readying them.
For war.
And still, even after the hours training in the morning and the hours spent in the evening with his men, Cameron worked himself hard after his men had ended their day. He was a man possessed and obsessed, or so his family had described him.
Cameron ate his meals alone or with his son. He’d distanced himself from his family, preferring solitude or the company of his son, to the company of others.
They’d just try to convince him that he was delusional and that his wife was dead.
He knew better, though.
The knowledge that she was alive was in his veins, in his heart, and in his soul.
Admittedly, some doubt wanted to enter into his mind, but he’d quickly quash it.
“Aye. They’ve their weapons and are eager. The air around them hums with vitality and determination. They’re prepared and anxious to begin,” Keith responded. His mechanical, lifeless brother nodded his approval.
Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3) Page 25