That was probably the reason he had felt such a strong kinship to the lad. They shared common resolve. Lad or lassie, though, that resolve had not changed. They would see this through together. And then?
That was a good question.
He had bartered for the lad, and the lad owed him. But he certainly couldn’t own Charlotte. It just wouldn’t be right.
He cringed, just thinking what his mother would say. Being of strong opinion, she no doubt would give him a good tongue-lashing, perhaps even a slap on the arm or head. And then announce that Charlotte was free to do as she pleased—join the MacAlpin clan or take her leave, the choice was hers.
Why did that disturb him?
Chapter 10
Charlotte woke before Bryce the next morning, unusual, though he had run miles with her in his arms, which had to have left him exhausted. The thought that he had done that to save the lad warmed her heart. Bryce was a caring man more so than he wanted anyone to know.
One would never think of him that way with just one glance. He was so big and wide and imposing. He was a Highlander of legends, the type that battled to the bloody end, the one who would fight for the less fortunate, the one who would give his life for Scotland.
He was a man of courage, gentleness, and honor—a true Highlander warrior.
A tear tickled her eye. She was lucky to have met him, lucky that he had helped her and continued to help her, and ever so relieved that he wasn’t sending her away.
Not that she would have gone quietly; she certainly would have protested. But that wasn’t necessary. She would stay with him and be glad of it. After all, who would look after him?
He stirred with a groan and stretched awake, his glance settling on her as he opened his eyes.
“Sleep well?”
“I did,” she said. “And you?”
He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his head from side to side. “Better than I expected.”
“Our plans for today?”
“You don’t waste time.”
“There is no time to be wasting,” she said, trying to avoid staring at the thick muscles that grew taut in his arms.
“Right you are,” he agreed, and sat up, stretching his arms once again above his head, his chest spreading wide.
Lord forgive her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his muscles rippled over his arms. Whatever was the matter with her? Was it because she no longer needed to react as a lad that she allowed herself the pleasures of a woman?
She bolted up, annoyed with herself, then realized he was glaring at her almost as badly as she had at him. It took her a moment to recognize why, and when she did, color rushed to stain her cheeks bright red.
Charlotte quickly yanked her torn tunic together, holding it tightly so that her breasts didn’t lie exposed.
Bryce, realizing his reaction, hurried to his feet and muttered something about finding them breakfast and disappeared into the woods.
She was glad for the privacy, though frustrated, for at that moment she knew that all had changed between them. She was now a female in his eyes, and he would treat her differently. She didn’t know if she liked that. She wasn’t only used to, but she was comfortable with the camaraderie they had shared. She felt when he believed her a lad, he spoke freely about everything. She didn’t think that would be the way of it any longer. And the thought troubled her.
She busied herself in wrapping the plaid around her so that it almost resembled the way Bryce wore his plaid. She would need to find other garments as soon as possible, but for now it would have to do.
Once done, she went to the stream to wash her face and run wet fingers through her cropped hair.
She would need to take a knife to it soon enough to keep it short and keep her looking like a lad. She couldn’t allow a hint of her female nature from peeking through. She raked her raggedly cut, honey-colored strands with wet fingers.
Her hair had once been a pride of hers, long and silky to the touch. Yet the day she chopped it off, she hadn’t thought twice. Her disguise was a necessary step in helping to find her father.
“Someday,” she whispered, staring into the water at the reflection of the woman who no longer resembled her. Her hair was short, a bruise covered her eye, right cheek, and jaw and weariness plagued her soft blue eyes.
“You’ll not take a knife to your hair again.”
Charlotte turned with a start to see Bryce standing a few feet behind her.
“I will if it’s necessary,” she argued, and stood with a careful bounce.
“It won’t be necessary.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“Don’t argue with me,” he said.
“I will when it is a foolish thing you argue over.”
“You are just as obstinate as the lad.”
“You expected me to be different?” She laughed. “I am who I am.”
Bryce grumbled beneath his breath before he turned and walked toward the campfire, and Charlotte was almost certain she had seen him smile.
She did, however, have no trouble hearing him say, “Take a knife to your hair, and it will be my hand you feel on your bare bottom.”
“Not likely,” she snapped back, which stopped him dead.
He turned and glared at her.
“You’ll not be intimidating me with that look,” she said, and gave a defiant toss of her chin. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He walked over to her, but she stood her ground. His size alone could intimidate; add to that a knotted brow and piercing dark eyes, and there wouldn’t be many who wouldn’t scurry away in fear.
She wasn’t one of them. She had gotten to know him over the last few days, and she knew that he would not hurt her. Threaten and bluster, yes, but never would the mighty Highlander do her harm.
He stopped right in front of her; another step, and their bodies would be touching. He peered down at her. “You might want to reconsider that.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, I won’t be changing my mind. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Why?”
“I know you won’t hurt me.”
“You’re so sure?”
“That I am,” she said.
He grabbed her so fast beneath the arms and swung her up to dangle in front of his face that she got dizzy. Pain followed, her head having snapped from the unexpected jolt, shooting a stabbing pain along her bruise from jaw to cheek.
It was intense, and she tried to fight against it though doubted she would have any luck.
“Charlotte,” Bryce said anxiously. “What’s wrong?”
“I think—” was all she got out before everything turned dark and her body went limp.
Bryce cradled her wilted body in his arms and cursed himself for his foolish actions. He should have never grabbed her the way he had. She had been through enough, suffered enough, and here he was adding to her burden.
Once again, like last evening, he went to the stream and dipped his hand in the cool water, then sprinkled some on her pale face, carefully avoiding the bruise that had darkened considerably overnight. When she didn’t immediately respond, he silently cursed his stupidity once again. It had disturbed him when he had seen the way she had sadly fingered her hair. He could just imagine how glorious the three distinct shades had looked when long and tumbling in waves down her back.
He hadn’t wanted her to suffer the indignation of chopping it short once again. Besides, he wanted to see her hair long, feel the silky strands for himself and . . .
He shook his head, letting his foolish musings wander off. He had no cause to be thinking such thoughts. Charlotte and he were on a mission together, and nothing else mattered but that.
With Charlotte tucked safely in his arms, he returned to the campfire, where he had fish cooking. He continued to cradle her in his arms as he settled them near the fire. She roused not long after.
“Something smells good,” she said as soon as her eyes fully opened.
Bry
ce laughed. “Only you would think about food instead of asking what happened.”
“I know what happened,” she said. “I fainted yet again.” She shook her head. “I only faint around you.”
“I have that effect on you, do I?”
Charlotte chuckled softly. “It would seem that way.”
“Are you all right?” Bryce asked with concern.
“I am,” she said. “It was the jolt that set my bruise to paining.”
“I am sorry,” he apologized, feeling terrible for being the cause of her suffering.
“That’s all right,” she said. “My da says I can test the patience of the Lord himself.”
“I think I agree with him.”
Charlotte laughed again. “I believe you and my da would get along well.”
“I look forward to meeting him.”
Charlotte’s smile vanished. “Do you think we will find him?”
“I have no doubt we will,” he said. “We’re both determined.”
She nodded and rested her head against his chest, as if it were something she had done many times before.
“I would suggest we stay here and allow you to rest a day—”
She was out of his arms in a blink. “We cannot lose one day, and I am fine. Besides, more soldiers could be tracking us. We must keep moving.” She laid her hands on her slim hips and sent him a grin. “Unless you’re too fatigued to go on, old man.”
He shook his head and chuckled though it lacked a smile. “If it’s a challenge you’re looking for, be careful. This old man of seven-and-twenty years has more stamina than a lassie barely familiar with life.”
She sauntered around the campfire. “Dare you say now?” She shook her head. “I’d not be spewing claims that have no substance. What match can you be for the likes of a lassie of only eight-and-ten years? No doubt I’ll be tucking you into bed soon enough.”
Bryce’s brow narrowed. “It wouldn’t be you who would do the tucking, my love.”
His implication not only flushed her cheeks bright red but set a vivid vision racing in her head; Bryce and her completely naked in bed and him tucking himself deep inside her. Damn if it didn’t heat her body and set it tingling.
Bryce stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “See, I do intimidate you.”
Charlotte went to respond, but his whispered warning came quicker.
“Open that mouth, and I’ll kiss it closed.”
She stilled, part of her not daring to test his threat and another part aching for him to do so. She kept quiet, reason winning out over desire this time. Finding her father was far more important than her craving to be kissed, though she wondered how long before that craving insisted on being satisfied.
Bryce stepped away from her. “Let’s eat and be on our way. I got fish enough for the both of us. And we won’t be having another meal until we settle for the night.”
It didn’t take them long to eat and be on their way, barely a word spoken between them until well on their journey.
“Do you have a destination in mind?” Charlotte finally asked from behind him.
Bryce didn’t turn. He kept the quick pace he had set earlier upon departure. “An area more than a destination; we’ll need to find those desperate to barter.
“Desperate for what?”
“Freedom from tyranny,” Bryce said.
“And how do you propose to give them this freedom?”
“By welcoming them into my clan, where they will be safe until the true king takes the throne.”
“You gather an army for the true king,” she said.
“I gather those willing to fight for their freedom.”
“Joslyn at the village Tine. You offered her a home with your clan. That’s why her smile was so wide.”
Bryce nodded and was about to answer when he heard a noise.
A sudden scurrying sound halted both of them, and Bryce reached his hand back, grabbed Charlotte, and yanked her next to him. He motioned for her to remain close to him, and they cautiously continued on.
They traveled an hour or so longer when they heard the sound again, only this time the sound didn’t stop. It grew louder and louder as it got closer, and closer and closer. Before Bryce could warn Charlotte to run, a large animal burst through the trees and lunged itself at Charlotte.
Bryce was quick to draw his sword, but Charlotte screamed, “Stop.”
He realized then that the animal was a big dog that was relentlessly licking Charlotte’s face. And she was laughing and wincing when he slobbered his tongue over her bruised cheek.
“You know this huge mutt?” Bryce asked.
“Don’t you?” she said between the dog’s licks.
“Odin,” Bryce said sharply, and the dog stopped and plopped down beside Charlotte.
She sat up and put her arm around the dog and gave him a hug. “You escaped Culth, didn’t you?”
He answered with a big lick.
Bryce shook his head. “He cannot come with us.”
Charlotte jumped up, and Odin growled as if he understood.
“He most certainly is coming with us,” she said with a pat to the dog’s head. “He’s tracked us all this way, and we will not leave him on his own.”
“He could have been followed or sent to find us,” Bryce argued, though he wondered if it was a useless argument. The two already looked a pair, and he didn’t think there would be a chance of separating them.
“He’s much too fast. No one would ever be able to match his pace,” she insisted. “Besides, you saw how Culth—” Odin growled at the mention of his name. “See, that answers it for you. He escaped the barbaric fool.”
Odin barked, as if in agreement.
“So this large mutt suddenly decided to pick a new master and chose you?”
Charlotte rubbed behind the dog’s ear. “He was waiting for the right person to give his heart to.”
Bryce shook his head, annoyed that she threw his own words back at him.
“He’s here, and he’s ours,” Charlotte insisted. “There’s nothing that can be done about it.” She turned and started walking, Odin following beside her.
Bryce kept shaking his head. The damn dog was bigger than she when he stood on his hind legs. And what did she mean by ours. The dog obviously looked to her as his master, and he and Charlotte were certainly not a pair, so how could the dog be ours?
He continued shaking his head as he walked, wondering over it.
Chapter 11
They came upon a small croft. An older woman, Glenna, lived there alone, and though age and toil marred her face and body, there was a vibrancy to her that was remarkable. In exchange for some repairs to her roof and door, the old woman agreed to give them food staples and repair Charlotte’s shirt and tunic.
Bryce remained busy outside tending to the few chores. Odin was forced to remain with him, though not without a whining protest when Charlotte followed the old woman into the house, where she set to work, and she and Charlotte began to talk.
“Have you been traveling long?” Glenna asked, working her bone needle skillfully through the linen cloth.
Charlotte was surprised that the woman hadn’t commented on her gender when she slipped off the torn tunic. She hadn’t been the least bit taken aback. Had she known upon first meeting Charlotte? She hadn’t seen any reason to hide her gender. The woman certainly appeared harmless enough though she had yet to ascertain who Glenna favored, the reigning king or the true king. But that wouldn’t be hard to find out.
“A week or more,” Charlotte said, wrapping the plaid around her. “That’s how long I’ve been searching for my da.” She didn’t say anything about Bryce’s mission as it was not for her to say. She watched closely the old woman’s reactions as she continued on. “The soldiers took my da from our home, and I’ve since discovered that it’s possible he’s being held in the king’s secret prison.”
Glenna nodded, not showing an ounce of indignation or protesting the
king’s actions. That worried Charlotte. Could the woman be a sympathizer of the present king?
“Have you heard of such a place?” Charlotte cautiously asked.
“I pay no heed to petty gossip.”
Did that mean Glenna had heard something but wouldn’t share it? Charlotte wasn’t sure how next to approach the matter. If Glenna was a king sympathizer, any more Charlotte said could prove to be dangerous for her and Bryce.
“It keeps one safer to mind one’s tongue,” Glenna said. “Though a man I once met told me that his daughter would not be able to hold hers if her life depended on it.”
Charlotte’s eyes popped wide. Her da had forever said that to her. A ray of hope set her heart pounding in her chest.
“Gave the man water one day when he passed through here,” Glenna continued. “He looked tired and skinny, though his eyes were sharp as was his wit. He told me that he’d be seeing his daughter soon since she knew the way to him.”
She knew the way to him.
Her father had sent her a message. What she didn’t understand was why Glenna just didn’t come right out and tell her. It made Charlotte wonder if the old woman feared speaking plainly, feared someone’s hearing what she had to say.
It hit Charlotte like an unexpected punch. They weren’t alone. Someone else was here with them, but where? The one-room cottage wasn’t large, though there were dark corners and a bed to hide under. But who would hide?
She noticed that Glenna had stopped stitching even though she wasn’t finished, the same moment she heard Odin whining and scratching at the door. Too late Charlotte realized why. Someone stood behind her.
Bravely, Charlotte said, “Is it friend or foe that hides here?”
“That would depend on which king you follow.”
Charlotte went to turn, but the man behind her was fast and yanked her out of the chair, pressing her back hard against him, his lean arm settling tightly against her throat and nearly choking the breath from her.
“Damn it, Odin,” Bryce yelled from outside. “You can’t go in.”
Charlotte wished Bryce understood that the dog was trying to warn him. In the next second, she discovered that he well understood Odin. The door burst open, startling all the occupants so badly that they all jumped, giving Charlotte enough time to stomp hard on her captive’s foot and turn, swinging, connecting with the tip of the man’s jaw, and sending him stumbling back.
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