Highland Games Through Time

by Nancy Lee Badger

“They assumed,” she said, as she took another deep breath, “I’m your tossed aside whore and that I’d warm their beds instead.”

  There. I said it.

  She waited for his laughter. She wasn’t prepared for Kirk to choke on a piece of bread. When his face reddened, Haven slapped him on the back. He grabbed her cup, gulped the water, then jumped to his feet. She skittered back along the bench. His fist slammed the table, tossing the fruit from the bowl. The entire room hushed.

  “Listen all and listen well. This woman,” he said, pointing to her chest, “is a guest under my protection. She is a lady, no matter how poorly attired. She is to be respected and will bed down where I put her. No one shall insinuate she is anything but an innocent highborn lass, or they shall answer to my blade. I will not say this again.”

  Silence.

  “Understand?” He shouted.

  “Aye!” A dozen voices rose in unison. Kirk sat back down and resumed his breakfast. Only then did she breathe. Not another word passed between them until time came to resume their trek. Haven tied her meager belongings to the back of her pony. Waiting for the others, she tried with little success to tame the curls escaping her bun.

  “Why struggle?” said a voice from behind her. She didn’t turn around. His voice caused a riot of sensations to skitter down her spine. Thoughts of what might happen if she shared his bed, again, turned her legs to jelly.

  Don’t think about how he felt in your arms, or how he tasted in your mouth.

  He’d walked away from her after breakfast. Had he grown angry because she tattled on Cameron and Balfour?

  “I am not angry, lass,” he whispered.

  “Good to know. Let’s get going.” The lightness of her response seemed to be the correct answer. His steps grew distant.

  Haven inhaled, then patted her horse’s neck. She’d lost track of the days. Where she had come from and how she’d dropped into his lap probably didn’t matter to Kirk. She’d spotted Reid among the wagons, but she settled into silent companionship beside Kirk and his massive war horse. She assumed they rode toward Castle Ruadh, a place of secrets.

  When I ask about it, Kirk changes the subject.

  A few quiet hours passed and several sentries rode up to Kirk with their reports. Kirk eventually galloped to the front of the group, while she and her borrowed pony followed far behind. Her gaze flickered back to him several times each hour.

  At the very rear of their caravan were mysterious carts driven by warriors. What did they carry? As she made silent guesses, Gavina drew her pony closer. Haven resisted sparring with the woman today.

  “They guard the treasure of Clan Gunn,” Gavina whispered.

  “Treasure?”

  “Jewels, coins, tapestries, and the like. One cart has venison shanks from our forests. Another, barrels of salted fish from the loch.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “We shall not taste one mouthful. All is for that lady’s table. The sooner we deliver it, the sooner my stomach will not crave it so.”

  Before Haven could ask another question, Gavina kicked her mount and rode to the head of the line. She spoke to the warrior at Kirk’s side. Kirk’s profile, lit by the midday sun when he leaned toward the two to listen, made her sigh. Flecks of gold highlighted his dark hair and the barest hint of stubble darkened his jaw line. Whatever news Gavina shared drew a grimace, making him look much older than…

  I have no idea how old he is.

  “We shall stop beside this river for our midday meal. I have been informed the ladies wish to bathe.” His words boomed, addressing the entire group.

  A bath? Thank God.

  “Guard the carts. Ye three, guard the women. From a distance.” His voice, and words, insinuated he meant what he said.

  “Aye, my lord,” several men answered.

  Haven pulled her pony to a stop near a rowan tree, its berry-laden branches recognizable from one of her herbal reference books. It was slightly similar to the New England mountain ash, but different.

  How could she have failed to notice this earlier?

  Before she could dismount, large hands wrapped themselves firmly around her waist then pulled her from her saddle.

  “I can do it myself.”

  “That I know, lass, but let me serve ye before…” A sudden look of anguish crossed his face.

  “Before what?” she asked, startled by the sadness in his eyes. Every time they got close, something dragged Kirk’s thoughts elsewhere.

  “We need to talk, lass.”

  “Okay. Talk.”

  “Not here. Too many ears. Walk with me?”

  And miss her chance to bathe? Shaking away such vanity, she nodded. “Is this about the treasure?”

  “What do ye know about the treasure?” His eyes flashed.

  Haven gulped.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Listen, I don’t care about any stupid treasure,” Haven lashed at him. “What you choose to haul across Scotland is no business of mine. I’m tagging along because I have nowhere else to go. I’m lost in a strange land. As soon as I can, I’ll go back to my time.”

  “Ye mean to say yer home, aye?”

  “Right. Anyway, what did you want to tell me? Whatever it is, remember. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

  She knew about the treasure? Who had told Haven about Lady Fia and the treasure? And, if she knew of his betrothal, and planned to leave him, why would she follow him to a secluded glade?

  “Ye say yer leaving. No matter what ye have heard, let me enlighten ye with how yer presence has affected me.” He paused when they reached a grove of trees. Low-hanging branches, thick with dark green foliage, provided privacy. With its significance not lost on her, she backed up a step.

  Again, he had opened himself to controversy and hearsay, but he wanted her to understand his position. Conflict happens every day. As the leader of his weary, war-ravaged clan, his reputation would get dragged through the mud if he turned from his obligations.

  “I know you’re hiding something. Gavina hinted, as did Cameron.”

  Her words made him hesitate. She did not know the details. His gaze swept over her and heat surged across his chest and belly. What they had shared in his tent had been sweet, tender, and loving. They had cuddled until she had fallen asleep in his arms. The urge to share the ultimate pleasure, to bury his manhood deep inside her, filled him with a hunger he feared he would never satisfy.

  Aroused simply by Haven’s flowery fragrance, Kirk could take what he craved, yet he would never force his attentions on a woman. She might accept his current desire, but the chance for such intimacy had passed. His betrothed awaited his arrival.

  Kirk kicked a small stone into a bush of scraggly gorse. Leaves fluttered in the breeze and his gaze locked on a single leaf as it floated earthward and landed on the pale swells of her breasts. He snarled, wishing his fingers could follow its journey.

  She backed up a step.

  Had only two nights passed since her breasts lay cupped in his hands? When he had tasted her lovely, dark-tipped nipples? Two nights since they had tasted each other? He swallowed Haven’s gasp. When had he leaned forward to kiss her berry-red lips?

  Small palms pressed against his chest, pushing him away. He released her mouth and gulped the air. With her sweet flavor on his tongue, he paused to catch his breath.

  “I must tell ye about Castle Ruadh.” He must, in good conscience, tell her of Lady Fia.

  “No need. We really should get back so I can bathe. I didn’t realize how dusty one becomes traveling around… Scotland.” She shoved aside a branch and headed for the river.

  His brow furrowed. He had heard the pause in her statement. For some strange reason, he knew she held her own secrets.

  What response would Haven give if he told her about Fia? Might she consider sharing him? Before he could ask, she turned and walked briskly to where the women bathed, with his guards posted at a discrete distance. Kirk swung his gaze away, though he longed
to touch Haven once more. Suddenly alone in the forest, Kirk strode back to his men.

  * * *

  “Where have ye been, my lady?” Anice asked with a wink when Haven joined the women at the water’s edge.

  Without responding, Haven stripped to her chemise and plunged beneath the water.

  “Feels so good.” Haven ran fingers through her hair, dove beneath the cool water, then peeled her light underclothes up and over her head. Dirt had penetrated every pore. Swimming naked was the only way to wash it all away. If only she could wash away the taste of Kirk’s mouth.

  “Ye swim like a fish. Do ye smell like one?” Gavina giggled at her own words.

  “My clothes smell.” Haven swam toward deeper water and relished the pull of cramped muscles and the silky softness of the river’s current, which grew stronger the farther out she swam. Water streamed past her shoulders as she did a slow, seductive crawl parallel to the bank.

  Numbness, due to the water’s frigid grip, made her feel alive. She glanced at the landscape of dark forests and small mountains that surrounded the river. Haven inhaled fresh air, laden with an underlying briny tang.

  We must be close to the sea. Another revelation.

  Haven turned back to shore. The other women were gone, as were the guards. She glided toward shore. Stepping carefully on the slimy rocks, Haven bundled her shivering body in a coarse white towel, then shook out her damp hair.

  Standing alone in the shallows, with her back toward the trees, she closed her eyes, tilted her face toward the midday sun, and let its warmth dry her hair. Her shoulders rose and fell with deep, cleansing breaths.

  The aroma of pine trees and tiny flowers along the bank assaulted her senses as she forced Kirk’s sensuous aroma from her mind. She’d grown accustomed to the outdoors, she suddenly realized, and didn’t want to go back to the smelly, modern city.

  The men around here smell so nice.

  One man in particular, and that was the problem. Turning to collect her clothes before heading back to the others, she sighed.

  “Such a deep sigh for one so beautiful.”

  Startled from her reverie, Haven lost her step on the slippery stones, fell to her knees, and cried out.

  “Nay!” The owner of the distressed cry ran from the trees as the sound echoed across the bank. Bruised knees proved less painful than the shock of a man watching her bathe. Numb, and in pain, she clutched the meager linen around her breasts. She wanted to scream, but her lungs failed her.

  He grabbed another towel, then gathered her in his arms. He twirled the cloth around her naked legs, and she tucked the other piece between her breasts. Batting at his hands, she struggled to pull away. Not lessening his grip, Cameron pulled the towel up and bent to inspect the wounds.

  “Merely a scratch. Ye had me worried, dear lady,” he said.

  His breathless reply prickled across her naked skin before he raised his gaze to search her face.

  “Cameron? Why are you here? Kirk said you and Balfour ran off.”

  “Get yer footing,” he said. She slid to her feet. Barely contained desire had flooded his cheeks with ruddy color. His hands held her steady, but his unwanted touch threw her off-balance.

  “Let go of me. I can stand,” she lied. When he refused to loosen his grip around her waist, she glared into his dark, amber eyes. Before she could push him away, a disturbance near the edge of the trees made her turn. Bushes and limbs exploded, disgorging Kirk and two burly warriors, their weapons drawn.

  Cameron’s hands fell from her waist, but not before Kirk’s eyes widened in astonishment.

  The warriors beside Kirk stared at her near-nakedness. With a lift of her chin, she straightened to her full five-foot-five-inch height and clutched the damp linen tighter. Let them look. She had nothing to hide.

  With a flick of Kirk’s left hand, the man to his left sheathed his huge sword then grabbed Cameron with one meaty fist. The voyeur’s flushed face turned deathly pale when the other man rested his sword beneath his chin. She should say something, and fast.

  Kirk sheathed his weapon. His glare swept over her, from loose hair to naked toes. “It appears my cousin has found a welcome reception.”

  The fear that had first skittered down her spine suddenly morphed into rage. Her spine stiffened, and she lifted her chin as Kirk stood with fists on hips. She had done nothing wrong. Haven refused to stand there and be insulted.

  “Are you insinuating I let him touch me?”

  “Ye tell me.”

  “Of all the jealous, arrogant, filthy minded—”

  “Do not cry foul when ye are the one I find with my cousin. Again.” With those words, he slapped the dirk at his side, and stalked away. After releasing their quarry, both guards followed, leaving her alone with Cameron.

  “I am sorry if I embarrassed ye, Lady Haven. My cousin has the wrong idea unless—”

  “Yes, he does. Stay away from me.”

  “I am sorry I touched ye with no warning, but I saw ye fall and—”

  “It’s okay. I appreciate your assistance. Too bad Kirk got the wrong idea.” She tiptoed along the grassy bank until she reached the path to camp. Gathering her clothes, she noticed Cameron hadn’t moved. Silence stretched between them.

  “Why are you following us?” she asked.

  “It is my duty to accompany my cousin to Castle Ruadh. He threw me out in a fit of rage. Typical of the brute, so I took no offense. His order fit the crime.”

  Haven turned and headed into the woods at a fast pace. He barreled past and barred her way. Cameron’s knuckles stroked the damp skin above her breasts. She’d been upset with Kirk and his disrespectful words. Now her blood boiled with rage, and she easily redirected her displeasure toward Cameron. Her anger must have shown on her face. He stepped back.

  “Stay away from me.”

  “Ye do not understand what ye want.”

  “I don’t want you following me.”

  “Am I not pleasing to look upon?” He straightened to his full height, taller than Kirk. He ran fingers through his golden hair and beamed a smile.

  “You’re a good looking guy, but I’m not interested.”

  “Kirk’s destiny and the future of our clan demand I follow him. He shall forget my transgressions soon enough. We are family.” He shrugged and his smile widened. “Kirk needs my sword arm to guard the treasure until we reach Castle Ruadh.”

  “What happens once we reach the castle?”

  His confident attitude faltered. He looked away.

  “Okay, then tell me why he flies into a rage whenever the name Mackenzie is spoken.”

  “My Lady, ‘tis not my place to tell the tale.”

  “Please? I feel at a disadvantage. This Mackenzie tried to kill me.”

  He stubbed his toe in the dirt then bent to pick flowers. Haven accepted the small bouquet of chamomile then slipped behind a tree and dressed in haste.

  “He believes Marcas Mackenzie killed his betrothed, Cora. Rage and sadness has consumed my cousin since. Bitterness has kept him from his duty to produce an heir. He waits for the day he can slice the Mackenzie’s head from his shoulders.”

  Haven shivered at the image. She peeked from behind the tree and found Cameron staring into space. His jaw muscles clenched beneath tanned skin. Haven left him with his thoughts and took advantage of his inattentiveness to hurry toward camp. His words disturbed her, but made sense. Inside Kirk hid a sad man who’d lost the love of his life.

  Yet he had killed men to save me.

  She came across Gavina distributing fruit, cheese, and day-old bread to the warriors. Kirk? Nowhere in sight.

  “Oh, my lady. We should not have left ye.”

  “Yes. Cameron surprised me. Bad news travels fast.”

  “He had yer nakedness wrapped in his arms. Has the sorceress taken a lover?” Hope amid poison laced Gavina’s words.

  Haven’s stomach clenched. She knew how the woman’s mind worked. Being thought a witch was less of a bothe
r than having Gavina think she and Cameron were lovers. If Haven and Cameron were together, Kirk would be free for the taking.

  “I slipped and fell. I wasn’t naked, so don’t go spreading rumors. Cameron helped me to my feet. Nothing happened. I don’t know where he came from and I certainly don’t know why Kirk took offense.”

  “Cameron Robeson worships ye, my lady. Kirkwall cannot,” she whispered.

  “Why not?” The words spit out before she thought better of it. Gavina evaded her gaze, so Haven grabbed her arm and shook the woman before she could slink away. “Tell me where you come up with these lies. Cameron surprised me, is all.”

  “The surprise being that ye did not scream.” Gavina shook free and turned away, not waiting for her reply.

  Why didn’t I scream?

  Gavina’s words were all lies. With one long groan of frustration, she spun away from the direction Gavina headed.

  Smack.

  Her face struck a muscular chest. The delicious scent of spice and leather tickled her aching nose. She fought the urge to sneeze.

  “Gavina’s point is just. When I get ye alone, you shall scream.” The seductive whisper was familiar. Haven bent back her head in order to face Kirk, the man who turned her insides to mush.

  Devil’s own luck. I’m going to miss him.

  Perspiration trickled down Kirk’s neck. The sun glinted off his forehead. His jagged scar appeared to throb when he clenched and loosened his jaw muscles, but was fading. Did it still cause him pain? Haven raised one hand and stroked his cheek, but he pushed her away. He kept going hot and cold. Her head spun when she realized the truth. She wanted Kirk to make her scream.

  * * *

  “I regret having frightened the wench, but I hunted near the river and never saw her until I was upon her. When I made her aware of my presence, she slipped and fell.” Cameron stood at attention.

  Kirk glared and his fists trembled.

  True, Haven does have a problem staying on her feet.

  “So ye picked her up and hugged her to yer chest.”

  “She fell. Hard. Aye, I picked her up. She claimed to be fine. I had set her down when ye appeared.”