by Willa Blair
“Are ye hurt? Did the cat scratch ye or bite ye?”
She managed to shake her head, even as she fought for breath to speak. “Nay, just my clothes. I’m unhurt. But we should move away from here in case she comes back.”
“Let’s get ye back to the fire to be sure ye’re no’ bleeding,” Jamie said, scooping her up. His sudden stride startled her as he carried her back toward camp.
“I’m fine. I just need ye to hold me...for a moment...until I can catch my breath.”
Catrin leaned her head on Jamie’s shoulder and breathed in his scent, luxuriating in his heat and the strength of the arms cradling her effortlessly against him.
“What are ye doin’ out here?” His tone demanded an answer.
“I came to find ye.”
“Find me? Why? Is everything all right at the fire?”
“Aye. Jamie, stop, please. This should be far enough from its den.” Catrin lifted her head from his shoulder and cupped his face with one hand, capturing his gaze in the uncertain moonlight and bringing him to a halt. “I wanted to talk to ye, away from the others. There may be little time for that once we reach...MacGregor.” Jamie stiffened, his jaw clenching under her palm. How she wanted to soothe that tension away. Why had she said that name? She sighed.
“To talk? About what?”
“Us, Jamie. Who we were six years ago. Who we are now. I want to learn what ye’ve done these last years, who ye’ve become.”
“Why do ye care? Ye’re on yer way to be promised to another man. And ye used to be sweet on Toran, no’ me.”
“Toran? Are ye daft? I never cared for him. Ye ken how he treated me.” Caitrin swallowed as Jamie’s head tilted, dislodging her hand.
“So what are ye up to, lass? What could we discuss that couldna be said in front of my men? Or yers? Ye didna need to follow me into the woods.”
Could she admit to the feelings for Jamie she’d nurtured the entire time they’d been separated? Her doubts and dismay over her coming betrothal? Her grief that Jamie took her to meet a fate she’d always imagined with him? “But I do care about ye,” she finally confessed, glad the opportunity had come for them to talk about what lay between them. “Because I...”
“There ye are!” Will’s unwelcome exclamation startled her into silence as he strode up to them. “What’s going on here? What are ye doin’ alone in the dark—with him?”
“Just a minute—” Jamie interjected, but Will gave him no chance to finish.
“Every time I turn my back, I find her in yer arms, Jamie Lathan. What game are ye playin’ at? Ye’re supposed to be taking her to her betrothal, yet ye canna seem to keep yer hands to yerself.”
“Will!” Caitrin’s sharp exclamation usually stopped Will, but not this time.
“Put her down, Lathan.”
Jamie bent and lowered Catrin’s feet to the ground then steadied her until she gained her balance. “She’s unharmed, but she had a run-in with a wildcat.”
“The only wildcat I see here is Caitrin. Are ye daft, lass? Do ye ken what yer father will do when he hears of ye dallying with him?”
“Hears what?” Caitrin challenged, her temper finally gaining sway over her tongue. “That he saved me, yet again?”
With an oath, she stomped between the two men and gave them her back, heedless of any pitfalls on the ground she covered as she made her way back to the fire. Will followed on her heels, Jamie a few paces behind him.
“Look at ye! Yer hair is mussed and yer clothes are torn. A wildcat did this? It looks to me to be the work of a man’s passion. Did ye think to have a tryst with yer old flame?”
Heat scalded the skin of Caitrin’s face. Not from the fire as she reached it, but from the blush she knew stained her cheeks. Jamie’s man, Ewan, still tending the meat, frowned at them. She had no doubt he heard every word. But embarrassment was the least emotion coloring her face. Fury at Will’s effrontery scalded her throat, and she nearly growled a warning as the wildcat had done just minutes before.
“Enough, Will.” His eyes widened. Her sharp tone surprised even her, but she didn’t want Jamie to hear from Will, in anger, what she had been unable to say to him herself. She turned her back to Will, then glared at him over her shoulder. “Can ye no’ recognize claw marks when ye see them? What man can shred a dress like that? I suppose ye’d want the cat to tear out my throat to prove its existence to ye.”
Will choked. “How can ye even suggest something like that?”
She turned to face him, trembling with anger and reaction to the cat’s attack and Will’s interruption of the conversation she wanted to have with Jamie. She ignored the outrage on his face. “How did ye no’ hear it screaming when it attacked?”
Will had the grace to look abashed, but only for a moment before his scowl returned. Jamie stood by, arms crossed over his chest and lips compressed, forbearing to defend himself against Will’s accusations. Or had her anger driven her too far when she accused Will of wanting the cat to tear out her throat to prove its existence? She had no doubt Jamie disapproved. Now, only moments later, she regretted uttering those words. Or had Will’s comment about him being her old flame silenced him? If so, she couldn’t deal with that right now. First things first.
Caitrin advanced until she stood toe-to-toe with Will and glared up at him, but kept a tight rein on her temper. “Twice now, Jamie has saved me from injury, perhaps even death. Twice ye have accused him of behaving improperly. Mind yer words, Will Fletcher, before yer wild imaginings goad him to the point he canna ignore yer insults any longer. Before I canna, and send ye home.” Will jerked at that, and Caitrin raised a hand, forestalling any objection he might be about to make. Softening her tone, she added, “To save yer life and avoid a war between Fletcher and Lathan. Do ye think that’s what my da would want?”
Will dropped his gaze to Caitrin’s shoulder, where tufts of torn wool stuck up through her tangled hair and tickled her neck. “Nay. But I must ken why ye went into the woods after him.”
“After him? What makes ye think such a thing?” As Will opened his mouth, Caitrin plunged ahead. “I dinna wish to hear it. I went into the woods alone...for the usual reason.” The lie stung, especially since Jamie knew she lied. She shook her head. The truth would only inflame Will’s anger further. Jamie must see that and keep his silence until she dealt with the immediate problem. Then she would talk to Jamie. If he would let her. “The cat attacked. Luckily, Jamie was nearby to scare the creature away before it had a chance to do more than claw my dress. Had he no’ been nearby, one of ye would have reached me soon after, I’m sure. That’s the end of it, Will Fletcher, do ye hear me?”
She watched the muscle jump in his cheek. He glared at her then turned his glare on Jamie before answering, “Aye.”
Caitrin spared Jamie a glance and saw a similar flex in the muscle of his cheek. Oh dear. He knew what she was doing. And he must have heard Will’s remark about her old flame. His narrowed eyes glinted in the firelight.
“Well enough then,” she sighed, turning back to Will, “Get something to eat and haud yer wheesht from now on. I willna tolerate any more of this.”
Ewan cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “If ye want to eat, it’s ready.” He bent and began carving slices of meat from the loin, laying them on trenchers. Caitrin took one from him and handed it to Will in time to see Jamie turn on his heel and stalk out of camp—again.
Caitrin moved away from Will, desperate to hide her disappointment from him. How could she ever talk to Jamie if he kept his distance? Especially now he was angry with her. Before Will interrupted, she’d managed to say just enough to make Jamie wary, then she’d lied to Will in Jamie’s presence. What must he think of her now?
Chapter Five
Jamie had to force himself to return to camp when his turn at the watch ended. Alone in the woods with nothing but the soft whisper of the breeze through the spring leaves and the moon playing hide-and-go-seek behind passing clouds, he had managed to reg
ain his equilibrium, calm his breathing, and unlock his jaw. But Caitrin slept in the camp, a temptation he could not consider giving in to.
As he approached the banked glow of the campfire, he paused to study the bundled up bodies sleeping near it. The smallest one was Caitrin. Wrapped in her cloak and a length of the Fletcher plaid against the cold. What he could see of her face appeared youthful and innocent—more like the Caitrin he used to know than the woman she was today—the woman seemingly bent on trying his resolve. The woman who lied to her kinsman to protect him. Not to protect Jamie. To protect Will, from Jamie. Was he so fearsome then?
True, he’d scared off the wildcat, but really, no wildcat could ever be a match for a man. Fierce as they were, perhaps twice the size and weight of the mousers that kept the kitchen and food stores free of vermin at the Aerie, they were also skittish loners. Likely, Caitrin had been correct that it had been protecting a nearby den.
So what was she up to? Jamie eased himself to a seat on log near where Caitrin slept. She looked so peaceful. He could hardly fathom the changes she faced in her life—new home, marriage, children. His throat tightened the thought of her lying with another man. Then he pursed his lips and shook his head. He had no right to care what Caitrin did with her life. He’d made no attempt to see her, even to write to her, after she left the Aerie. It had been too painful.
But that pain was nothing compared to having her within reach, yet untouchable.
“What are ye frowning at?” Catrin’s soft whisper startled him. She sat up and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.
He shook his head. “Nothing, lass. Thoughts. Memories.”
“Of me?”
Jamie bit his lip to keep the “aye” from slipping out. “Nay.”
“I ken ye too well, Jamie Lathan, to believe that.”
“It doesna matter. Go back to sleep.”
“I’d rather talk to ye.” She tossed aside the woolen wraps and stood, pulling her tattered cloak around her then joined him on the fallen log, a proper arms-length away. “I find it hard to sleep when there’s trouble between me and an old friend.”
Jamie tossed some kindling into the low fire and watched sparks dance skyward. Anything to avoid looking at the woman beside him.
“Ye’re upset because of what I told Will.”
Jamie huffed out a breath. “Shouldna I be?”
“Would ye rather fight him?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Or have him convey his suspicions to my da?”
“Ye ken I wouldna.”
“Then ye ken why I spoke as I did.” Caitrin kept her voice low, but it grew in volume along with her intensity. “Ye did nothing wrong, Jamie. Ye scared the cat away and saved me from injury. Ye were carrying me back to camp to be tended.”
He faced her, concern drawing down his brow. “Ye never were...tended. Did the claws break yer skin?”
“Nay. The thick layers of tightly woven fabric protected my back. I am unhurt.” Caitrin lifted a hand to her neck and shuddered. “A few minutes more and she might have found my throat.”
Jamie understood she had been shaken up by the encounter, despite her protests to the contrary. Will’s accusations surely had not helped.
He studied her as she stared into the firelight, lost in her own imaginings. She’d grown from a gawky girl to a woman of uncommon beauty, one Jamie could scarce resist. Had her adventurous spirit from childhood become recklessness? Was all this a misguided attempt to have some say over her fate? She could not know what awaited her, when she had yet to meet her intended betrothed. Nay, her father had prepared her, he supposed. She would know his mind on this matter as well as her own.
She dropped her hand back to her lap, and then met his gaze, pulling him out of his musings and back to the memory of the cat’s attack. “But she didna, thanks to ye.”
“Twas fortunate I happened to be nearby.”
The lift Catrin gave to her lips made less a smile and more a sheepish acknowledgment she had been searching for him. “Aye.”
“Ye wished to speak to me.”
“Aye.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she gestured toward the opposite side of the fire, where Will slept. “Away from others’ ears.”
“Ask me now.”
She sat still for a moment, staring into the embers as if deciding whether to risk the question she really wanted an answer to. “I never heard what happened. After I left Lathan.”
Jamie’s belly clenched. “What do ye mean?”
She stayed silent a moment longer then shook her head. “Remember the day Toran and ye found the carvings?”
His breath froze in his chest at the word. Then he realized she’d changed her mind—and the subject. Jamie let out a slow sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted to relive was the time when Caitrin left. The less she knew, the better. Instead, he chuckled. “Searching for the troll under the stone bridge, aye?”
“Ye told me they were ancient druidic markings. Secret signs marking a place of ceremony and sacrifice. That wasna true, was it?”
Jamie thought back to that day. Caitrin had tagged along with him and Toran, as usual. Toran had done his best to ignore her, but Jamie had started telling stories and by the time they reached the old bridge, he had primed Caitrin for the biggest story of all. “Toran and I had spent weeks chipping away at the stone along the banks of the burn, scratching in signs and symbols.” Rumor had it Caitrin was good, perhaps too good, at telling when someone lied to her. So Toran had concocted a test—elaborate, to be sure, but preparing it had entertained them for weeks. Finally, they were ready. Jamie spun his tale, full of history and superstition, druidic sacrifice and magic.
“Ye thought I believed it all, to the point of refusing to cross that bridge ever again.”
“Aye, from that point on, Toran greatly enjoyed leading ye in that direction, only to watch ye splash through the burn rather than cross the bridge to reach the meadow beyond.” As Toran and he laughed. It was not Jamie’s proudest memory of their time together. In fact, he was still irritated with Toran for putting him up to it. Especially after the way the summer ended.
“I kent ye lied.”
“Ye didna.” Jamie snorted. “Why drench yerself in the burn if ye thought the bridge was nothing special?”
She remained silent for a long time, to the point Jamie thought she’d refuse to answer. Then she opened her mouth to speak, and Jamie noticed her eyes were sheened with tears. “’Twas the only way Toran would let me come with ye.”
“So ye were sweet on him.”
“What? Nay, never. He only let me come along when he could get a good laugh out of me, whether that meant slogging through the burn or something else. I didna want to be left out. Left behind.”
Jamie’s heart plummeted at the same time shame raised heat in his face. “Nay.”
“’Tis true. I kent Toran had put ye up to it. Ye tried to set me straight a time or two—do ye remember that?”
Jamie shook his head. Honestly, he didn’t. But if she hadn’t been interested in Toran’s attention, did that mean she’d tagged along because she cared for him?
“But if I admitted it, that would have been the end of my time with the two of ye. So I played the fool instead.”
“I am sorry.”
“Ye should be, aye. But yer laird has more to answer for.”
Jamie had to chuckle at that. “More than ye can imagine. But I thought ye always liked him, the way ye chased after him.”
“Nay. Ye were my friend, Jamie. Toran never was. No’ really.” She paused, staring off into the darkness for a moment. “I owe ye both a lot.”
Her tone made it clear she didn’t mean in retribution.
“Nay, lass.”
“Aye. Ye made me stronger than I wouldha been. I learned woodcraft, how to fight, to be a good marksman with a bow, skills most girls, most women, never imagine making their own. It made me more confident. I was ripped away from my home after my ma died. Alone and afraid. Wi
thout the two of ye, I wouldna survived the grief.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Jamie clenched his fist against the urge to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb. He must not touch her. Not tenderly. Never with the hunger that filled him and stole his breath. He could barely speak around the lump that had formed in his throat. “I kent it must be hard for a lass, but ye never seemed distraught. Ye were always game to get involved in anything. Ye nearly drove Toran daft.”
“But no’ ye.”
“Nay.” Jamie hesitated. Should he say it? Aye, the wee lass within her needed to hear it. “I always liked ye. Ye werena like the other lasses.”
She choked back a laugh. “I wasna that, for sure.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, but she wiped them away. “If this is what reminiscing does to ye, I dinna recommend it.”
“Ye need sleep, Caitrin. Ye are worn out. We’ll talk again when ye’re rested. Between us, I’m sure we can skewer Toran well and thoroughly.”
She stood and rested a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Ye should rest, too, my old friend.”
He nodded, but his pulse kicked up at her touch. Caitrin left him and settled herself on her pallet. Jamie sat by the fire until her eyes closed and her breathing evened out in sleep. It was going to be a long night.
****
They rose with the sun. Despite Caitrin’s growing reluctance to face the future her father intended to arrange for her, she was glad when they got back on the trail shortly afterward. The sooner they reached MacGregor, the sooner she’d have answers.
The conversation she’d had with Jamie the previous evening left her questioning how she felt about him, about the idea of the marriage her father wanted for her, even her memories of the time she’d spent at the Aerie. Had Toran teased her as much as she remembered? Had Jamie been so kind? In her mind, she’d painted them as two sides of the same coin—dark and light, bad and good. Now she was mature enough to recognize that nothing was ever so clear cut. Toran had teased her, but he’d included her in their outings. Jamie had been her friend and protector, but he’d gone along with Toran, too.