Campbell's Redemption

by Sharon Cullen

  “No.”

  “Stop it, Iain Campbell. Just stop it.” She was looking distressed, and he was a bit hurt that his proclamation had been met with so much angst. “Ye don’t know what ye’re saying.”

  “I always know what I’m saying.” Now that he’d admitted it out loud, he was convinced it was the right thing to say. That didn’t mean his feelings didn’t frighten him as much as they apparently frightened Cait.

  “This…It’s not…” She blew out a breath.

  “I like ye flustered.”

  “Stop this! Ye don’t like me. Ye don’t have feelings for me. Ye can’t.”

  “And why can’t I?”

  “I…” She looked away and bit her lower lip.

  “I’m sorry it distresses you so much.”

  She glanced back at him. “This is unexpected.”

  “As it is for me.”

  “Of course nothing can come of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Ye can’t be serious. Because I don’t want this, and ye’re…” She flapped her hand at him. “You.”

  “I’m me and you’re you and we’re two separate people. I understand all of that. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I should have waited, or maybe I should have kept my feelings to myself forever, but I want you to know why I’m so concerned that you’re out here all alone.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “For now. But things are getting worse. My God, Cait, English soldiers were killed on my land. Until I find out who did this, no Campbell is safe.” A guilty looked crossed her face and he stilled. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. I understand what ye’re saying, and I’m touched by yer…concern for me.”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m no’ hiding anything. I have a life. It’s private, and ye don’t need to know everything.”

  She was right, and he was angry that she was right. If he’d thought that telling her about his feelings would make her pliant, then he was sorely mistaken. Cait would never be pliant, and that was frustrating as hell.

  What was she hiding? Something other than her aid to Sutherland and the refugees he was harboring. Something worse?

  “You’re right, of course. I have no business prying into your life. But please promise me that you’ll be careful.”

  She seemed hesitant to do even that but finally nodded. “Very well.”

  “And promise that if things get too difficult, you’ll come to me for help.”

  She narrowed her eyes, apparently thinking that option through. “Very well.”

  “I mean it, Cait. Don’t just say it so I’ll go away.”

  She sighed. “I’m no’. I’ll be careful, and I’ll send for ye if I need anything.”

  “I don’t like you helping Sutherland. What he’s doing is dangerous.”

  She looked at him shrewdly. “And what ye’re doing isn’t?”

  He paused. “That’s different.”

  “The difference is that what Sutherland does is behind the English’s back. Ye play yer games to their face. I don’t know which is the most dangerous, but I think it might be you.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “And I know what I’m doing. Ye have to trust me.”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust.”

  “Sutherland will never cause me harm.”

  “I know that.” He trusted Sutherland, more so now that they’d worked together on a few things. Sutherland was a Highland warrior through and through, and he was loyal, tough, and dependable. He reminded Iain a lot of John.

  They seemed to have come to an impasse. She wasn’t leaving her home or ceasing her activities, and he couldn’t force her.

  “Let me know what ye find out about the soldiers.”

  “I will.” He stood there awkwardly. When did she become important to him? When did her welfare matter more than an obligation to an old friend?

  Cait was looking at him, so fresh and pretty. As always, her hair was falling out of its pins and curling down her neck. Her lips were rosy and slightly parted, and Iain found himself leaning toward them.

  And then he was kissing her. She made a surprised sound but didn’t pull away. It was a light touch, barely a whisper, but it fueled his desire for her. A desire he’d not known he possessed until this day, and all it once it was consuming him like flames leaping onto dry tinder and taking flight.

  He put his hands on her upper arms, lightly, so as not to startle her. She was much like a bird, ready to take flight at the least expected movement. He didn’t want her to fly because he had no hope of catching her again. So he went slowly, touching lightly, moving hardly at all. She trembled. With the need to run? Or did she want him as much as he wanted her? That was his hope but probably not the reality.

  Tentatively, she kissed him back, her mouth closed, but that was fine. The anticipation was killing him, but he would go at her speed. He would let her take the lead if that meant she didn’t bolt.

  She stayed, much to his surprise and delight. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her and he took them in his, gently unwrapping her fingers from her palm until their fingers were intertwined.

  She parted her lips, and it took everything inside of him not to shout out in joy. He touched his tongue to her bottom lip, sliding it slowly inside. She tasted of cheese and ale, and if sunshine had a flavor, it would certainly be this.

  The tip of her tongue touched his, and it was his undoing. He groaned despite the fear of making a sound. And just as he had predicted, she jumped back, yanking her hands from his and staring at him in shock.

  He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck, his body so inflamed that she had to see it.

  “Ye should go,” she said hoarsely.

  He nodded and walked out without saying anything. He had no idea what to say, and he was afraid of the words that might spill out if he let them.

  Chapter 13

  That night Cait lay in her cold, lonely bed, staring at the shadow-dappled ceiling.

  She was exhausted, but sleep eluded her among her tumultuous thoughts. She’d relived her conversation with Iain so many times that she was weary of it, and yet she couldn’t stop herself.

  If he had feelings for her, they were of guilt.

  Of course the dead soldiers were a concern, and their discovery on Campbell land was troublesome. It focused the English’s attention on the Campbells, and no one wanted to be the center of the English’s attention. This was the one time she hoped Iain’s friendships would protect the clan.

  And then there was that kiss.

  She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow like a small lass hoping that hiding would make the memory go away. That damn kiss had fundamentally changed everything and made her doubt her belief that Iain’s feelings for her were not sincere. Oh, how sweet it had been. Sweet and tentative, as if he was afraid to startle her.

  She’d been pleasantly surprised that the kiss had been so…enjoyable, and an all too familiar ache had settled low in her stomach. She’d not wanted it to end. Instead, she’d wanted to wrap her arms around him, pull him tightly to her, and rub against him.

  Smothered by the pillow, she turned her head to the side. Her body was hot and aching. Restlessly, she threw the blankets off and let the cool air wash over her heated skin. Her breasts throbbed, and the heat low in her belly spread outward.

  She turned her head to the other side and closed her eyes. Beneath her lids she saw Iain coming toward her, his dark, unfathomable gaze on her mouth. He’d licked his lips right before he kissed her. She wasn’t sure why that was such a vivid memory, but it was.

  Almost against her will, her hand inched up and touched her aching breast. Her other hand found her moist center, and she pressed her palm to it. Instantly, her hips rose and she whimpered. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. She missed it so much. The closeness, the feel of another body pressed against hers. The release after
the buildup of suspense. It was the release she craved now.

  She slid her finger inside her folds and touched the hidden nub there. She was wet. Had been since Iain kissed her hours ago. She’d been walking around in suspended need.

  She pressed down on the nub with the pad of her finger. Her hips rotated and she gasped. The release, when it came, had her pumping her hips and crying out.

  Afterward she lay spent and hollow. She’d relieved the need, but the rest of her felt cheated. She didn’t want her finger or her hand.

  She wanted Iain.

  —

  The next morning Iain was waiting on his front steps as Captain Palmer rode through the gates. Iain didn’t have guards posted at the gates like some of the Highland chiefs. He preferred to be a bit more civilized and treat his home as a home and not a defense. But that didn’t mean he was without protection or a warning system to let him know when visitors arrived. He’d been waiting for this particular visitor and was surprised it had taken Palmer this long to come to him.

  The captain looked grim as he dismounted. “I’m here on official business,” he said by way of greeting.

  Iain glanced at the four soldiers who had ridden in behind Palmer. In the past the captain had either come alone or with a foot soldier who would retire to the kitchen. He’d never come as a small army.

  They left the other soldiers with the horses and walked through the house and into the formal sitting room, where Iain went straight to the whiskey. When he held up the bottle to silently offer Palmer a glass, the captain shook his head. “I shouldn’t drink on official business.”

  “That’s twice you’ve said that. This is concerning.”

  “I’m charged with opening an investigation into the murders of Beckett and Catley, the soldiers found on your land.”

  “I know nothing about it.”

  “I still have to consider you a suspect.”

  Iain had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that Palmer had enough influence with his superiors to discount Iain as a suspect. He’d had nothing to do with the murders and trusted that Palmer’s investigation would prove that. It all was such an inconvenience that he did not need at the moment. He would have to pull back his patrols for Graham’s Tèarmannair, for one. Iain thought of Sutherland and wondered if he should warn him that the English army would be in the area. He probably should.

  “I heard about the deaths—”

  “Murders,” Palmer interrupted.

  “I heard about the murders yesterday afternoon. I know nothing other than they were English soldiers. Of course I will begin my own investigation and question any Campbell who lives in that area.”

  “I appreciate that. I want you to know that this isn’t personal. Cumberland knows you are loyal to England and that you have helped us quite a bit in the aftermath of Culloden. But when an English soldier—two English soldiers—are killed in this manner, something must be done.”

  When a Scotsman is killed, it’s ignored? Iain kept his thoughts and his surge of anger to himself. “I understand.”

  “I thought I would give you the courtesy of forewarning you that we will be talking to your clansmen.”

  “I would like to be present for that.”

  Palmer hesitated.

  “I’m their chief.”

  Their gazes clashed. Iain was not allowing Palmer and his men free rein of his land and easy access to his people.

  “I think we both know that many Scots are not fond of the English here in Scotland,” Iain said. “You’ll get much better results if I’m with you because they trust me.”

  Palmer seemed to think about that for a moment. “Very well, but if you’re not available for some reason, we won’t wait for you. My superiors want answers, and they want to make certain this isn’t the beginning of more attacks on English soldiers.”

  Iain doubted this was the beginning of more attacks on English soldiers. He was certain it was an isolated occurrence. More than likely, the soldiers had stumbled across something they shouldn’t have or had been doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. There were dozens of stories of English soldiers harassing innocent Scots. It was the reason Graham had started the special patrols—in response to the violence perpetrated against the Scots.

  Again Iain kept those thoughts to himself. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep his anger in check and to continue pretending he was a friend to the English, but he would do it because he was helping to defeat the English in small ways.

  “Were you heading out today?” Iain asked, thinking of all the things he needed to get done but would have to wait on while he followed Palmer and his men and made sure they didn’t harass his people.

  “I thought I would start with the healer, since the murders happened closer to her home.”

  Iain was glad that he’d lived his entire life hiding his emotions. He wasn’t afraid that Cait had anything to do with the murders; he feared having the English around Cait. It seemed he was very protective of her.

  “Let’s at least get a good meal in us before we travel that far. Not many inns from here to there,” Iain said with a forced smile.

  Palmer grinned and patted his stomach. “You have the best cook in all of Scotland. Why do you think I’m at your door all the time?”

  Both men laughed and Iain was relieved that he’d put off, at least for a few hours, the trip to Cait’s house.

  —

  Cait was surprised to find Sutherland at her door this late in the afternoon. He almost never made an appearance until after dark.

  “What’s happened?” she asked in lieu of a greeting.

  “I need yer help.”

  “Is someone injured?”

  “I have eight refugees we were transporting, but the roads are full of English soldiers and ye’re the closest safe house. I can’t have them out and about in the middle of the day.”

  “Certainly.” She mentally calculated her food supply. Eight was the most she was able to take; usually, Sutherland kept the number below that. Fortunately, she had the food Graham had sent over.

  “I hate to do this to ye, lass, and I wouldn’t if things weren’t so dire.”

  “Please, Brice, don’t apologize. I’m happy to help. Ye know that.”

  “Thank ye, Cait. I can always count on ye. I’ll try to get them out by morning—”

  “Nay. Leave them until tomorrow night. Those soldiers aren’t going away in a day.”

  “Ye’re too good to me, Cait Campbell.” He pecked her cheek and rushed out the back door to get his refugees. They were all men, dirty and weary, with clothes that hadn’t been changed in days and bleak looks, as if they’d been hunted to the very corners of the earth.

  Cait tried to be encouraging, but these men were beyond that. They needed a good hot meal and to sleep for days. No doubt they’d left their mothers and fathers and wives and children with no idea if they would ever see them again. Her heart went out to them as they silently filed down the narrow stairs to their temporary home.

  She wished Iain could see these people who had lost all hope. Maybe then he would understand why she was so committed to helping in any way she could. Maybe he would stop harassing her about ending her activities with Sutherland’s Staran.

  The last of the men disappeared down the steps, and Cait followed to give her speech about possible visitors and keeping quiet. They looked at her with blank eyes, and she had to wonder if her words even penetrated their numbness. How long had these poor men been on the run, and how much hope did they have left?

  “They seem different from the others,” she said to Sutherland when they were upstairs again.

  “They came to me yesterday after being on the run for weeks. They’d heard about my operation but were too scared to approach. They’ve been in hiding for so long, they’re more like wild animals.”

  “Will this ever end?” she asked in a rare moment of defeat.

  “Lately, it seems the ones who come to me are without spirit. The
y’re beaten men.”

  “This has to stop,” she said quietly. “The English can’t keep hunting our men.”

  “It won’t stop until all the Jacobites are either dead, gone, or converted to the English way of thinking.”

  “This is so wrong. How can they come into our country and demand we change our ways?”

  “They can and they did,” Sutherland said bitterly. “Are ye sure ye’ll be all right here tonight?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “I’ll be fine. I’ll feed them, and hopefully, they will feel safe enough to sleep.”

  Sutherland looked toward the corner where the trapdoor was now hidden. He seemed about to say something, then shook his head. “I best be going. Too much to do and not enough time to do it in.”

  “Promise ye’ll no’ come back until tomorrow night. I’ll take good care of them in the meantime.”

  “Tomorrow night, then.”

  Sutherland disappeared into the trees, as stealthy and quick as any man she’d seen, and she went about preparing a big pot of stew and more bread. It seemed she was always making bread, and she mentally thanked Graham for providing her with the ingredients to make it. He had no idea what his contribution was going toward, and she would never tell him, but it was sorely appreciated.

  Chapter 14

  She’d just taken six loaves of bread out of the oven when Black Cat took up his position in front of the door and looked back at her.

  Cait wiped her hands on her apron and shot a quick look toward the corner of her sitting room. Ever since Iain and Adair had arrived at her doorstep, she’d had a never-ending parade of visitors. For being so isolated, she was certainly busy entertaining people. She found she didn’t mind it so much.

  She peeked out of the window and drew in a startled breath. It was Iain with five British soldiers. She had no time to warn her visitors, so she sent up a small prayer that they were all asleep.

  Iain was the first to approach. “I apologize for the unexpected visit, Cait, but these gentlemen are investigating the murders of their fellow soldiers and thought you might know something, since the murders happened so close to your home.”