But she didn’t want this life any more.
She took a seat next to Seamus, who was driving the wagon. He glanced in her direction briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “Startin’ to rain, Fi. Get back inside.”
“If you doona mind, Seamus, I’d like to stay with you.”
He nodded, and they rode together in silence for several minutes. Lightning streaked across the sky, the wind lashed dust against her face, and in the distance, thunder rumbled.
“Ye got somethin’ on yer mind?” he asked. “Otherwise, ye’ll want to get back inside. This storm’s fixin’ to be a bad one.”
“Aye, Seamus, I do.”
“Speak, then.”
Fiona twisted her hands in her lap, her heart hammering in her chest. This wasn’t how she wanted to do this, but she hadn’t been given much of a choice. This was her chance. If she didn’t take it now, she never would.
“I want out.” As she said the words, her stomach twisted into a knot so fierce she feared she might retch.
He laughed, a cruel, hollow sound. “Sure ye do.”
She struggled to steel her resolve. “I mean it.” Her voice was quiet and determined. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Seamus appraised her briefly before turning his attention to the road in front of him. “What’re ye gonna do? Ye got no skills, and ye can’t think I’ll give ye money to set ye up. Brother’s widow or no, ye want out of this band, ye go with nothin’.”
“I know the rules,” she whispered.
“And ye still wanna go?”
“Aye.”
“No clothes. No money. No nothin’. A cup of water would be too good for ye. Think on that.” His voice was mild, but his jaw was set and hard. Anger raged behind his expression.
And Fiona recognized the truth when she heard it.
She twisted her skirt in her hands and tears began to fall.
“What are ye gonna do, Fi?”
She thought about her bag back in the back of the wagon. “Can I take my clothes, Seamus?”
Shaking his head, Seamus gave her a bitter laugh. “Oh, no, Fi. Yer not gettin’ off easy. Ye want out, ye take the hard way. I’m done with bein’ nice to ye. Ye can stay, and ye stay with me. Ye can leave, and ye on yer own. Be a smart lass.”
She sat in silence, her body swaying as the wagon rumbled over the rough road. The rain began to fall, harder now, and she wiped the water angrily from her eyes, but at least it obscured the tears. Seamus never had to know how much this moment pained her. He’d only delight in it if he did.
She only knew this kind of life. While it might not be what she wanted, she knew nothing else. She had nothing else. And there was no guarantee Cameron would accept her back if she left. He probably shouldn’t accept her back, if she was honest with herself.
If he didn’t, she’d be forced to work in the bawdy houses.
She must have been silent for too long because Seamus laughed again. Patting her on the leg in a manner that was entirely too familiar, he said, “There’s a good lass. No get in the back of the wagon, where ye belong.”
She squared her shoulders. “No.”
Fury wreathed his features. “What did ye just say to me, woman?” His voice was quiet and laced with malice.
“I said no.” Desperation and fear soared beneath her breast, her heart thundering like the hooves of galloping horses. She had never thought letting go of this life would be so hard, but then, she never thought she’d be doing it alone and penniless, either. “I need out, Seamus.”
Reining in the horses, Seamus turned on her. When he stood, he towered over her, but she didn’t dare stand. “After all that I’ve done for ye? Ha’ ye lost yer mind?”
Taking a deep breath, she did what was either the bravest or the most foolish thing she’d ever done and would ever do—she made a choice, and changed her path.
“Yes.”
Seamus struck her with the back of his hand again, the crack reverberating in her ears, and light exploded behind her eyelids. For long moments, she heard nothing but a high-pitched ringing as blood began pouring from her nose. He prodded at her as if she were cattle. “Get off my wagon!” he shrieked.
When she didn’t move, couldn’t move, he grabbed her by her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. She stumbled into him before he shoved her away roughly. He hit her again, and though she clutched at him desperately, she fell from the wagon, landing hard on her backside. The look of brutal pleasure that creased his features both stung and strengthened her and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out.
Her wrists and back ached, but she stayed where she was. She felt the eyes of the others on her. She served as their warning—do not cross Seamus, or wind up like Fiona. Alone in the desert with nothing. In the rain. He’d tell them all tonight when he finally allowed them to make camp that he’d left her there with no money and no food. That she’d wind up in a bawdy house, nothing but a whore, the only people even the gypsies looked down upon.
Let him.
The hatred in Seamus’s eyes took her breath away as he picked up the reins again. The rain came down in thick sheets, creating rivulets in the dust around her. She wept. For her, for her band, for what might have been had she not left her parents’ band all those years ago.
The wagons’ wheels groaned as the caravan lurched over the broken, rocky road. As they drove past, some of her fellow gypsies gazed at her with pity, others with outright malice. None offered her any aid and none voiced their sympathy, if any of them had any.
The moment Seamus knocked her off the wagon, she had ceased to exist for them. She was nothing, less than a dog, less than the rocks under the wheels of their wagons.
The last wagon shambled by. Cold, wet, and covered in mud, Fiona began the long, lonely walk up to Virginia City.
Chapter 9
She wondered if she had made a fatal mistake.
Fiona shivered as she trudged up the mountain. The storm had let up about an hour before, but now that night had fallen, stealing the last heat of the day, the chill had become almost unbearable.
Her feet ached and against her skin, her damp clothes chafed. She’d had nothing to eat or drink for hours and her stomach grumbled in angry protest.
Ahead, lights glittered in the dark, a beacon toward the haven of a nearby town. Someone might take pity on her and give her something to drink. A cup of water would cost them nothing.
A rider on a large, dark horse materialized out of the darkness, like a devil or a wraith. His face was protected from dust by a bandana, and he wore a large ten-gallon hat. She lifted her hand to him, but he sped past her without taking notice. He didn’t even slow. That is, until the big black horse abruptly stopped and turned.
The man yanked down the bandana, and even in the dark, she recognized Cameron in the lines of his body.
“My God, what are you doing out here, Fiona?”
Before she even had the chance to explain, he wrapped her in an embrace so tight it stole the breath from her lungs.
Threading his hands into her damp hair, he pressed her head to his chest. Through his shirt, she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart. Heat poured from his body, and she shook violently as she absorbed his warmth. She had been cold for too long.
He leaned back and kissed her. She closed her eyes and ignored the pain of bruised skin and split lips. She had so little, but right now—and maybe only for this moment—she had him.
“Fiona.”
She opened her eyes.
He had moved her hair away from her face and was studying her intently. Taking her chin, he maneuvered her head back and forth, as if seeking more light. His fingers traced a line over her cheek and her nose, the pad of his thumb touching her lip carefully, then he hissed a breath. Without another wor
d, he stripped off his duster and draped it over her shoulders.
She stepped away, but didn't take off his coat.
“What happened to you?” His voice was tight.
Allowing her hair to fall forward to conceal her wounds, she said, “Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Even in the dim light, Fiona saw the muscles work as he clenched his jaw. He pursed his lips into a tight line, his nostrils flaring.
When she didn't respond to him, he growled, “Get on Midnight.”
“Cameron. . .”
“Do I have to tell you again, or am I going to have to put you on that horse myself?”
Startled by the anger in his voice, she gasped. “You wouldn't.”
“You don't think?” Cameron ground out, and she took a step back. “Goddammit, Fiona! I'm sick of the lies. I'm sick of all of this. Just get on the damn horse!”
He was angry. Of course he was angry. She'd disappeared without so much as a by-your-leave, and the heirloom she'd stolen from him had disappeared with her.
“No.”
Cameron didn't say a word as he grabbed her hand and yanked her in the direction of his horse. Was silent as he lifted her off her feet and dumped her onto his horse. Didn't wait for her to adjust before he threw himself up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body.
Cameron put his heels to horse, and Midnight took off at a breakneck pace. Fiona struggled to find her seat
“Slow down. I'm going to fall!”
His breath was warm against her ear. “I won't let you.”
The horse's hooves pounded against the wet, rocky earth as they made their way up to Gold Hill, and Fiona was surprised by how quickly they got there. Cameron dismounted outside the hotel and tethered the horse to a post.
His hands were strong and warm as he helped her down from Midnight. “Come inside and get warm.”
“I'm not cold,” she said. It wasn't a lie anymore.
“You're shaking.”
“Doesna mean I'm cold.”
He took off his hat and raked his hands through his hair. He was silent for a long time, the only sound the tinny music of a piano being played inside. “Tell me what happened to you.”
“It doesna matter.”
“It does to me.”
“What do you want me to say? That Seamus hit me? Would that make this better?” Her heart stuttered and she wrapped her arms around her body to keep herself from shaking.
“He should pay for what he’s done to you.”
“Who’s gonna make him? You?”
“Damn right, I will.”
“How?”
“I’ll take him to the sheriff. Have him prosecuted for hurting you.”
“I’m a gypsy and so is he. At least he’s a man. Who’s going to believe a gypsy woman? Especially one like me.” Tears pricked her eyelids again, but she refused to let them fall this time. She wasn’t broken. Yet.
“What do you mean, one like you?”
She shivered again, and tightened his duster around herself. His scent rose from the fabric, the smell of linen dried in the summer sun, leather and male.
If she died right now, the pain would all be worth it.
But she didn’t, which meant she had to face the ugly truth of what she was and what she had become.
“I’m a fortune-teller. A witch. A pickpcket. A thief. I've been called worse, even.”
She retreated from him. He made no move toward her, but he didn’t recoil in horror at her admission either. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest. “Go on.”
“No' enough? I steal and I lie and I cheat. I’m no’ sure I would know the truth if it bit me on the nose. While Seamus is no better than I am, he’s no worse, either.”
Her stomach knotted, her throat burning as the truth spilled from her. She had never felt so alone. He would leave her.
He cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheek gently with his thumbs. “Fiona, no one deserves what he did to you.” He took her hands in his, turned them up, and caught sight of the raw, broken flesh. She’d plucked the prickers from her palms, but the wounds still stung. His eyes returned to her face, and she knew he was studying her bruises.
“What happened?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I fell from the wagon.”
Huffing a bitter breath, he looked away and stared into the space behind her head. “Don’t you think I deserve the truth?”
Tears formed in her eyes, and she willed them not to fall. “Aye.” She paused for a moment as she considered her next words. “I may have fallen off the wagon because Seamus pushed me off.”
As if her admission caused him pain, he closed his eyes. “Why?”
The tears she’d been holding at bay began to fall. “I said I wanted out of the band. Seamus didn’t like it. When I didn’t back down, he banished me.”
Cameron gathered her up in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. His chest rose and fell as he drew a long, slow breath. “You’ll never have to go back there again.”
Guilt slammed into her all over again. “Couldn’t if I wanted to. Anyone who showed me any mercy would be banished with me.” Strange, how much those words wounded her. For years, she’d wanted out, but not this way. Not in humiliation and shame.
She’d never intended to leave with nothing.
“That’s harsh.”
Fiona shrugged. “It’s the way Seamus runs his band, and my husband before him. All loyalty must lie with the band.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, since I’m out.”
His boyish, lopsided smile tugged on her heart. “I’m glad you are.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don't we go inside. We can get a room for the night here before heading back up to Virginia City.”
She wanted nothing more, but she couldn’t do this with him just yet. Tired and cold, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and sleep, but she needed to tell him the truth first. “Cameron . . .”
“Trust me, Fiona.”
Closing her eyes briefly, she considered those words. Trust. She wasn’t even sure she knew what the word meant. How could she give him what she didn’t deserve and really didn’t understand?
He looped his arm around her shoulders. So strong, so masculine, yet gentle and tender, too. She leaned into him, trying to absorb some of his strength, before she stepped away. Gesturing to the landscape around her, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I came for you, sweet.”
“For me?”
He frowned into the darkness and shifted his weight uncomfortably. “When I found out you had left town, I couldn’t think of anything but getting to you. I saddled up Midnight. Gambled on the direction you folks would take down the mountain. People saw the caravan as you passed through Gold Hill, so I knew I was on the right path.”
He turned her to face him and gently stroked her cheek, his thumb brushing against the bruise she knew was blossoming across her cheekbones. “I had no idea I’d find you on the road.”
“You came for me?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
He scowled, and it became clear he had no intention of answering her question. Instead, he countered, “I found you alone on the road. Why?”“
“I told you. Because I left my band.” Sometimes, the simplest answers were the best—and the most truthful.
“Again, why?”
“Why did I leave?” When he nodded, she blew out a breath. “Because ‘tis no’ who I am, anymore. At least, ‘tis no’ who I want to be.”
“Then who are you?”
I’m yours. But instead of voicing the thought, she said, “Maybe I should start with who I was.”
He incli
ned his head—less than an agreement than an acknowledgment. “Go on.”
“I . . . I don’t know where to start.” He opened his mouth to say something, but she waved his words away. “No, no. Let me tell it.” She took a deep breath and pretended he held her while she told him the ugly truth. Swallowing hard, she began. “I was the girl you danced with at the dance hall.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean to take it, Cameron. See, I’m a thief, but I’m no’ a fool. I knew the moment I met you that you were a poor mark. I’d only steal from you if you were blind drunk, and maybe no’ even then.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away, but not before she saw the hurt in his eyes. His posture stiff and guarded, he said, “You took my family ring.”
She nodded slowly. “I did.”
“And what did you do with it?” His voice was casual, as if he didn’t care, and she might have believed him if she hadn’t known how much he had sacrificed for the sake of the family legacy.
The fact he wouldn’t meet her eyes stung her more than she cared to admit. “By the laws of the band, I have to give everything over to Seamus. He’s the band’s leader. Everything I have, everything I am, belongs to him.”
His gaze, stern and cold, slid to her face briefly before sliding away again. In his pockets, she could see his hands were balled into fists. “And did you?”
“No’ at first, no,” she hedged. The guilt and the shame washed over her and she allowed herself to experience those emotions for the first time in her life. She didn’t push them away and she didn’t ignore them. “The ring belonged with me. So I hid it from him until today.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to give it back to me? Even after what happened last night, you didn’t trust me enough to give it back?”
Highland Sons: The Mackay Saga Page 16