Her Highland Destiny

by Leanne Burroughs

  Duncan smiled, having won this round. “Och, that is easy. You shall do your exercises.”

  Catherine glowered. “That is not what I meant and you know it you big oaf.”

  Eyes wide at the exchange between her parents, Meghan scampered from the room.

  To Duncan’s surprise, Catherine put extra energy into her efforts. Her muscles had to be screaming, the pain unbearable, but she refused to cry in front of him.

  Proud of her efforts, Duncan praised, “You did well, Cat. Keep it up.”

  “I knew you wanted me to leave. Is that why you are pushing me so hard?”

  Duncan laughed. “Again you twist my words. How do you do that? Only hear the part you wish to hear.”

  “Leave me be.”

  ~ * ~

  For a fortnight Duncan maintained the same schedule. He lifted her carefully in his arms, carried her down to break her fast, then in late morn carried her upstairs to rest before doing her leg exercises.

  Approaching their open chamber door, he heard Catherine telling Meghan about her youth. He leaned against the doorway and listened.

  “My brother always grew frustrated when I did not let him get his way.”

  “Laird Trevor got angry wif you?” Meghan questioned in awe.

  “Not angry,” Catherine assured. “He thought he was right about everything. But I didn’t back down.”

  Och, so my bonnie wife was a force to be reckoned with as a child, too. That does not surprise me.

  Too soon her story ended.

  Catherine rolled her eyes when he entered the room, but didn’t argue.

  Meghan reached up to hug her father, leaned over to kiss Catherine on the cheek, then scrambled off the bed and left the room.

  “What?” Duncan queried with a laugh, turning his attention to Catherine. “No argument?”

  “‘Twould be futile, so why bother?”

  She pushed herself to her limits, he saw, determined to show him she could do anything he said. She did so well, Duncan added new stretching motions. He straightened her leg and tried to raise it in the air, then pressed it gently toward her chest.

  She bit her lip, finally shouted, “Duncan! Are you trying to fold me in two?”

  Though he tried to keep his voice light, his tone grew serious as he lowered her leg to the bed. “What I try to do is take your pain away. Watching you work so hard, I feel helpless and inept.”

  ~ * ~

  Duncan sat at his desk but could think of naught but his bonnie wife. He loved the way Catherine regaled the clan youngsters with imaginative tales.

  Or with tales of Jesus the Christ’s life and ministry. Only this morn, they’d gathered around her on the bed. When Duncan bundled her in blankets and placed her in a chair before the hearth, they sat on the floor at her feet listening about The Christ’s life as a child in something called a temple.

  Their carpenter made a wooden box so she could stretch her leg in front of her while she sat and Duncan covered it with soft animal fur so it wouldn’t chafe her skin. The sight of her surrounded by children reminded him of Grant’s wife.

  Perhaps Tory could help his wee wife. He sent a missive to his friends, explaining the situation and asking them to visit. He looked forward to seeing them and thought a visit from Tory just the medicine Catherine needed.

  He realized what he felt for the gentle woman in his life far outweighed whatever feelings he’d ever had for his best friend’s wife. He grunted in surprise. Despite all her protests to the opposite, he’d fallen in love with his own wife.

  Taken aback by his feelings, he headed upstairs, approached the bed and sat. He watched Catherine, but said naught. Instead he lifted her leg and gently kneaded the muscles, caressed the instep of her foot with his thumb. She made him feel awkward. He could never tell her the depth of his feelings. She’d laugh in his face.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Alexander approached and sat opposite him. From the young man’s expression Duncan could tell he had a burr under his saddle. “Are you not being too forceful with the lass? We hear her cries all the way down here.”

  His friend’s voice resonated concern, yet Duncan couldn’t stop disappointment from roiling in him. “Forceful? I try to make my wife walk again.”

  “Can you not accept her as she is?” Alex challenged. “The rest of us care not if she ever walks.”

  Duncan frowned over the rim of the tankard. He set it down untouched and shook his head chidingly. “I thought everyone understood me better. I care not if she ever takes a step. I would gladly carry her about every day for the rest of her life.”

  “Then why...?”

  “For her,” Duncan replied. “She has been through too much. First her da gave her away for promises of wealth from his king, then she lost our bairn, now this.”

  Duncan leaned back in his chair, conveniently leaving out the part of how he left her. He tried hard to forget the worst mistake of his life. “I cannot let this defeat her. She had such resolve right after her accident, determined to walk again. But now...mayhap because it takes longer to heal, doubts set in. I think no less of her because she cannot walk, but she does. Of late she does not want me to help her. I do not understand why, but she pushes me away. Tries to do everything on her own.”

  “Think you ‘tis because she still cannot walk?”

  “Nay, something festers in her mind. I wish I knew what. Mayhap she thinks she is less of a woman.”

  “But she is—”

  “She is beautiful—inside and out.” Duncan’s shoulders slumped. “What can I do, Alasdair? She is perfect, but I do not think she will believe that, especially until she walks on her own again. Somehow that must happen.”

  Shoulders still slumped, he rose and slowly climbed the staircase to his chamber.

  ~ * ~

  The following sennight, Catherine grimaced as she slid her leg forward, trying to walk. She started to fall, but Duncan caught her with steady arms. Frustrated with the pain and lack of improvement, Catherine lashed out, “Is this how you plan to spend the rest of your life? Caring for a cripple? Even Father’s money cannot compensate for that.”

  Merciful heavens, she thought as soon as the words were out. I did not mean to say that. Duncan knows only too well how it feels to have someone care for him that doesn’t want to. And from what I’ve heard of his treatment at the hands of Clan Kerr’s laird, he’d never hurt someone he thought weaker than himself.

  Duncan’s face turned to stone. “You seem determined to leave. Fine. As long as you walk out the door on your own two legs, I will not stop you.”

  Catherine’s mouth dropped open, abruptly shut. With the gauntlet thrown, she renewed her efforts. After Tanner’s mother’s visit, she’d written to Trevor, thinking only of Duncan and Meghan’s safety. She didn’t want to leave, but couldn’t bear the thought of another innocent dying because of her. Tanner’s mother claimed she was cursed. And who knew what the vile man that attacked her would do next—or when he’d strike again?

  “You have a deal, Duncan MacThomas.”

  ~ * ~

  Duncan heard a commotion outside. Peeking through the arrow loop, he saw his friends had arrived.

  Tory’s face bloomed with radiance, motherhood on her again, and Grant strutted as if delighted at the prospect as he helped her from the litter.

  Duncan crossed the courtyard to greet them. They kidded each other and shook hands. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  Tory knelt in the dirt and drew Meghan to her, hugging her tightly. “I cannot believe how much you have grown since last I saw you.”

  Meghan smiled widely, both cheeks dimpling. She raised her hands and put up four fingers. “I am this many summers now.”

  Happiness shown on his friends’ faces. Duncan knew them when they first met, were incredibly stubborn, and their happiness had been a long time coming. Mayhap there was hope for he and Cat yet.

  Duncan turned and led everyone into the keep. “Sit while I fetch
Catherine.” Carrying her into the Hall, he asked, “Sweetling, you remember Grant and Tory Drummond?”

  Catherine gave him an incredulous look as he lowered her to a chair beside Tory. She exclaimed, “Have you taken leave of your senses, husband? I injured my back and leg, not my mind.”

  During their visit Duncan and Grant spent hours reminiscing, so Tory took advantage of her time with Catherine and continued the sessions Duncan had begun. She leaned forward and reached out to brace pillows against Catherine’s lower back, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Catherine raised her leg and held it up with her hands under her thigh.

  “That was good, Cat,” Tory said, encouraging every move. “Now let us have a go at this instead.” She stretched out on the bed, raised her leg and rotated her ankle, demonstrating exactly what she wanted Catherine to try. She laughed when her expanding belly got in the way. “I fear I am clumsy these days.” She turned on the bed and raised herself on her elbow. “You know, whether you ever walk again is not what matters to Duncan. He only wants you safe and happy,” Tory finished. She shot Catherine a look that told her she’d best not argue.

  Going downstairs, Tory rubbed her lower back and teased Duncan, “I took the liberty of making a few wee changes in your regimen. You work with an injured young woman, Duncan MacThomas, not one of your rowdy men-at-arms. Some changes should be made to adapt to Catherine’s lesser pain level. Do not force her muscles. Be gentler. If you do not exert quite so much pressure, she shall probably heal faster.”

  She took him back upstairs and showed him exactly what changes needed to be made so he could continue the exercises after she left. Before entering the room she added, “Congratulate Catherine more. Make her feel she truly accomplishes something. Have her sit in a tub of warm water every day. Add this salt I fetched with me.” Tory handed him a leather pouch. “It comes from Epsom and has great healing qualities. ‘Twill soothe her sore muscles, reduce swelling. When she is abed, elevate her injured leg. You do not wish the area to swell like it has. You told me you did so at the beginning, but ‘tis important you continue. Swelling slows healing.”

  Grant joined them and promised, “I shall send you one of the chairs our carpenter made for Tory. With its curved rungs, it moves back and forth. Its motion should soothe you.”

  Instinctively Tory knew Catherine doubted she’d ever see it.

  Watching Catherine and Duncan together, Tory thought they reminded her of Grant and herself at the beginning of their relationship. They too locked horns like the great red deer of the forest, but fell in love while doing so. She believed Duncan had done the same. She just couldn’t ascertain Catherine’s feelings. Wanting nothing to disrupt their growing friendship, Tory approached the subject cautiously, but finally asked, “How do you feel about Duncan?”

  Catherine merely repeated what she told everyone, “He does not want me.”

  Observing Catherine closely, Tory decided the young woman had fallen in love with her husband, but was afraid to admit it because she still mistakenly believed he didn’t want her. It would take a long time for her friend to overcome his actions when he and Catherine had been newly wed. Yet there was more. Tory just didn’t know what. She saw Catherine watch Duncan with longing when she thought no one watched, yet push him away when he tried to help.

  Two stubborn people.

  ~ * ~

  After Tory and Grant left, Duncan continued to work with Catherin using the new motions Tory’d shown him. Gradually she could move her leg on her own. He was thrilled at her progress.

  Over the past sennight he’d held her close and helped her move across the room. Still supported, but walking nevertheless.

  Now they stood beside the bed and he felt foolish. He was scared to release her to let her try and walk.

  “Let go, Duncan. I can do it myself.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. He knew not if they were tears of excitement or fear.

  He moved away and she stood still, unmoving. Finally she slid her leg forward. It didn’t buckle! Eyes wide, hers flew to his. She took a few more tentative steps and stopped. Her shoulders heaved with sobs.

  He could stand it no longer and rushed to her side, wrapped her in his arms and held her close. He was perilously close to tears himself. She’d done it! His stubborn wife had prevailed and could walk. Each day she’d grow stronger.

  Not wanting to wear her out, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to bed.

  Eyes wet with tears, Catherine beamed up at him. “I did it, Duncan. I walked.”

  Clan business required Duncan to be away a fortnight. He worried how Catherine would take his absence. Hated to leave when she finally made progress walking. Tory’s treatments had definitely helped.

  Now he carried a flower, feeling a fool for doing something so sentimental. Seeing Catherine resting before the hearth in his Hall, he walked behind her, brushed her ear with the flower before kissing her cheek. “I missed you,” he whispered.

  Catherine reached up to take the flower, pressed it to her face. She closed her eyes as if in pain. Duncan tensed when a tear trickled down her cheek.

  “I am glad you are home, m’lord,” she said, opening her eyes. “I have been waiting for you. We must talk. The time has come for me to leave. I can walk out the gate on my own—with the help of the walking stick you made for me. You said when I could do that, you wanted me to leave.”

  He feared this might arise. Now he knew.

  He’d looked forward to coming home. Planned to wrap her in his arms all night. He hadn’t even had a chance to kiss her.

  Angry over his well-come home and how she’d twisted his words, he pursed his lips. “I shall not stop you. If you are determined to leave me, get out of my house.” For this he’d rushed home? Faugh, he’d known all along she’d leave. Known from the beginning. She was no different than Helen or his father. How foolish of him to believe.

  “I shall, after I pack my things...and tell Meggie goodbye.”

  “If we...she...means so little to you that you can so easily leave, then you need say naught.” His steely gaze locked on her face. Deeply pained that she wanted to leave him—them, Duncan chose the only way he knew to hurt her back. His voice hard, cold, he flung his next words cruelly. “The place is so wonderful you lost our bairn there. Run back so you never have to worry about bearing my child again.”

  All color drained from Catherine’s face. Duncan wished he could rip out his tongue. Blessed St. Andrew, how could he have voiced the one thing he’d known would hurt her the most?

  Her gait labored, she turned and fled the room. Straight to the stables.

  Duncan’s impulse was to go after her, pull her into his arms and tell her he was sorry. Pride stopped him. She was leaving him.

  He heard shouts. Going to the door, he opened it to assess the commotion.

  Catherine rode out the gate. Blessed Saint Ninian, his stubborn wife rode out unaccompanied. Racing like the Bansidhe howled at her back.

  He’d driven her away with his heartless words. Why hadn’t he just demanded she not leave?

  He couldn’t let her depart. Not like this—not ever.

  Knowing he needed her more than life itself, Duncan raced outside to mount his steed. His response anticipated, a horse was already being saddled.

  He raced after her, pushing his horse to full gallop. “Please, God, let her not injure herself,” he cried aloud.

  He finally saw her, pushed to overtake her, knowing the fool woman wouldn’t stop. Drawing abreast, he shouted to her.

  She barely spared him a glance, concentrated on riding.

  She was going too fast.

  Duncan feared the horse would stumble. She might lose her grip on the reins or saddle. Bracing his knees to maintain his balance, he reached over to grab her reins. She jerked them away. Not wanting to startle the horse, Duncan took only the space of a heartbeat to make a decision. Bending to loop his arm around her waist, he pulled hard, jerking her from her horse.

&nb
sp; Catherine shrieked.

  Trying to situate her on the horse with his left arm, he yanked on the reins with his right. She flailed, trying to escape him.

  “Let me go,” she shouted.

  He brought the horse to a stop, dismounted, bringing her with him.

  She pummeled her hands against his chest. He didn’t stop her. He’d hurt her, deserved it.

  Her knee buckled and she dropped to the ground. “How dare you...how could you...how...?”

  “Shhh, my heart, I am sorry. I did not mean—”

  “You did!” Her shoulders shook with uncontrolled sobs.

  Duncan drew her into his arms, held her while she sobbed. “You leave me? Why?”

  “Does it matter? You never wanted me in the first place, just the coin my father paid for you to take me.”

  “Do not dredge up the past that is better left buried.”

  “Like our child lies buried—” She choked back a sob, putting her fist to her mouth to keep the pain from escaping.

  “That has naught to do with you leaving now and you know it!” He grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “By all that is holy, you owe me the truth. Tell me.”

  “I leave to protect you.”

  “What? You think to leave...to protect me? What sort of corked-brain notion is that? Did you fracture your skull as well as your leg?” Duncan fumed.

  “Tanner’s mother—” she began only to have him cut her off.

  “Is a woman filled with black grief. It rots her soul, twists her mind inwardly.”

  “With cause! Her child is dead, as is mine, by the hand of the same man. I cannot risk being near another person...having them...I do not want you to...” Her tear filled eyes lifted to his. “Do you not see? Tanner is dead because of me! Because he protected me. If you protect me...you will... I am naught but a bringer of death and sorrow. Tanner’s mother said I was cursed. Mayhap I am...no one wants me...”

  “Tanner lies dead, as does our babe, because of a madman. You had naught to do with it. Can you not see?”