Campbell's Redemption

by Sharon Cullen

  One of the men had stepped up next to Iain, and from the blue facings on his uniform she figured he was a high-ranking English officer. The other four hung back but were on alert.

  “Captain Palmer, ma’am,” the leader said.

  “Captain,” Cait said coolly.

  “I apologize for intruding, but it’s imperative that we speak to everyone in the area.”

  “I don’t know anything about the deaths,” she said.

  Palmer paused, obviously taken aback by her abruptness. Iain may have been his friend and supposed ally, but Cait wasn’t and never would be. She was friendly with Halloway, but he wasn’t like these soldiers. He was a mere lad in a set of circumstances he wasn’t comfortable in.

  “Can we talk inside?” Palmer asked. “I just have a few questions.” When her gaze went to the four soldiers, he added, “They will stay outside.”

  “Of course.” She led the way inside, and the three of them stood awkwardly in her small sitting room while the silence stretched.

  “Let’s sit down,” Iain said, shooting her a confused look.

  She licked her dry lips. She’d had Halloway in her home while harboring refugees, but that wasn’t nearly as frightening as having Palmer here. He was much more observant and a much bigger threat. She made certain to sit in the chair that covered the hidden door while Iain took the other chair and Palmer the settee. She knew she should offer them refreshments, but she didn’t want them to stay longer than necessary, so she chose to be rude and inhospitable while her heart thundered and her palms began to sweat.

  Iain was frowning at her and she looked at the floor, hoping he understood the silent message. His eyes widened a fraction and his gaze followed hers to the floor.

  Palmer cleared his throat. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, there were two soldiers murdered on Campbell’s land yesterday.” He paused and seemed to be waiting for her response.

  “I heard.” She couldn’t force herself to utter words of condolence.

  “I’ve been instructed by the Duke of Cumberland to conduct a thorough investigation into the murders and find the perpetrators.”

  She’d heard so many horrific stories about the atrocities the English soldiers perpetrated against her countrymen. She’d seen the ones on the run, hunted like animals until they acted like animals. If the English thought she was hiding something, they would arrest her. If they thought she had information, they would arrest her. If they suspected anything, they would arrest her.

  If Palmer knew that eight fugitives were hiding under his feet…

  She swallowed and jerked her gaze to his.

  “How did you hear about the murders?” Palmer asked.

  “I, uh…” Her mind went blank. She could barely remember her name, let alone who’d told her about the murders.

  “I told her,” Iain said, pulling Palmer’s intense gaze from her.

  “You?”

  “Yes. I’m worried about her living so far out here, and when I learned of the deaths, I came out here to check on her.”

  Palmer seemed to consider that before turning his shrewd gaze back to her. “So even though you know there’s a killer out there, you choose not to heed your clan leader’s advice and move closer?”

  “I don’t lead my clan through bullying and intimidation,” Iain said.

  “Yet you are the leader.”

  “That’s not how our system works,” Iain said, indicating that Palmer had a lot to learn about the Scottish clan system.

  Cait interrupted, feeling that the two were about to come to blows, and that would be just as bad as Palmer finding her refugees. “Where would I go, Captain? This is my home.”

  Palmer seemed to gather himself. Iain leaned back in his chair. He’d shown a bit of anger, but his face still revealed none of his thoughts; he appeared as calm as if they were discussing the next social event. How did he do that? She was a nervous, anxious mess, while Iain was calm and collected.

  “I hear you are the local healer?” Palmer asked.

  She inclined her head toward him, comfortable with this line of questioning. “I am.”

  “Whom do you heal?”

  “Anyone who comes to me.”

  Palmer tilted his head and studied her. “Who would that be, Miss Campbell?”

  “Mrs. Campbell,” she said before she could stop herself.

  “You’re wed?” Palmer perked up, suddenly very interested.

  “Was. My husband died four years ago.”

  “Fighting the English?”

  “That’s enough, Palmer,” Iain said in warning.

  “I’m merely questioning where her loyalties lie, Campbell. You are obviously a supporter of the English cause. Maybe she isn’t.”

  “This is about the murders, not Mrs. Campbell’s loyalties.”

  “And who would murder English soldiers but someone who does not believe in the English cause?”

  Iain tilted his head and studied Palmer. Cait saw something shift in his eyes and his lips tighten, but she knew that was the only emotion he would allow to show. “Are you calling her a Jacobite?”

  Unperturbed, Palmer shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to ascertain.”

  “I didn’t kill those soldiers, Captain.”

  Both men considered her, almost as if they’d forgotten she was there.

  “I’m a healer,” she said. “I was put on this earth to keep people alive, not kill them.”

  “You never answered my question. Was your husband a Jacobite?”

  “If he was, it doesn’t matter now. He’s been dead four years. I hardly think that affects your investigation.”

  “He could have instilled his beliefs in you.”

  Cait laughed, more angry than amused or frightened. “I’m my own woman, Captain. Whatever my husband believed, those were his beliefs, and whatever I believe, they are my own beliefs. I help anyone who comes to me for help. I don’t turn anyone away, and I don’t ask questions.”

  “So you do help Jacobites? Possibly even Jacobites who are wanted for questioning by the English?”

  She’d heard of the English way of “questioning,” and it wasn’t as innocent as Palmer was trying to lead her to believe. “I treat everyone who needs me.”

  He sneered. “So you’re telling me you treat Jacobites? What about English soldiers?”

  “Yes.”

  He snorted in disbelief.

  “Do you know Sergeant Halloway?” she asked.

  “I’ve heard of him,” he said warily.

  “Ask him. He’s been here a few times for various ailments.”

  “I will, and if I find out you’re playing me false, I will return.”

  “That’s enough,” Iain said so calmly that it startled both Cait and Palmer.

  She held up her hand to stop Iain and looked Palmer in the eye. “Ask him. Ye’ll find I’m telling the truth. And I’ll tell ye another truth. I don’t know what happened to the soldiers or who killed them.”

  Palmer seemed to think about that. Finally, he nodded and stood, Iain and Cait following his lead. Palmer turned toward the door and paused, his gaze fixed on something in the kitchen.“Those are a lot of loaves of bread for a woman who lives alone in the woods,” he said.

  Cait’s stomach lurched, but she rallied. “I do what I can to help the women and children who lost husbands and fathers in the battle. They’re finding it difficult to put food on the table. A single loaf of bread goes a long way.”

  Palmer looked at her with cold eyes. This was the man Iain spent time with? “That’s very admirable of you, Mrs. Campbell.”

  “Like I said, I do what I can. For both the English and the Scottish.”

  He made a humming sound that was clearly a sign of disbelief. “I’ll talk to Halloway straight away,” he said.

  “Give him my regards, please.”

  He looked at her sharply, but she merely smiled, and he walked out, Iain trailing after him.

  She slumped into her chair. She’d mad
e a powerful enemy today, and all while she was hiding people hunted by the English. She wasn’t certain why Palmer had taken a sudden dislike to her. He’d become suspicious when she’d mentioned John, and while she wasn’t certain why, it didn’t really matter because she’d made an enemy of someone who should have been a friend.

  She leaned forward and put her head in her shaking hands and breathed deeply.

  This was not good. Not good at all.

  Chapter 15

  As they rode away from Cait’s cottage, Palmer was contemplative and Iain was silently fuming. He was furious at Palmer for questioning Cait so harshly and with Cait for harboring those damn fugitives. It was getting far too dangerous for her, what with the murders and the extra English patrols.

  “Where would you like to go next?” Iain asked, not relishing spending more time with Palmer. But after that escapade, with Palmer clearly aggressive toward his people, Iain was not letting the man roam freely on Campbell land. Iain had never seen Palmer that way. With Iain, he was affable and a bit of a jester. The way he’d treated Cait was unacceptable, and Iain had tried to defend her as much as possible. It didn’t help that she had been visibly terrified and that Palmer had latched on to that.

  “I think I’ve had enough for the day,” Palmer said quietly.

  Iain looked behind him to make sure the four soldiers were far enough back. “Surely you don’t suspect Cait Campbell of the murders,” Iain said.

  “I’ve made no determination either way.”

  “Cait’s husband was my commander and loyal to me. I will personally vouch for her.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Palmer said.

  “It’s only that I firmly believe she had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Campbell. I know you are loyal to England, but I can’t blindly trust everyone named Campbell. Why do you think she had so many loaves of bread?”

  Damn you, Cait Campbell. “Because she feeds those in need.”

  Palmer glanced at him. “Isn’t that your responsibility?”

  “She helps wherever she can.” That was not a lie.

  They came into sight of the big house. “I’ll leave you here,” Palmer said. “I’m off to speak to Halloway.”

  —

  Cait was waiting at her open door when he rode up.

  He marched toward her, so angry that he had no idea what he was going to say or do. As if sensing this, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

  He stopped so close to her that her skirts brushed the top of his boots.

  And then he did something surprising. He hugged her, nearly crushing her to him as he breathed in the scent of bread and muted roses.

  “Damn you,” he whispered. “I came here to give you a dressing-down and command you to stop helping Sutherland. Damn you.” He drew in a shuddering breath and pulled back to brush the stray locks of hair from her face so he could cup her cheeks in his palms. “This can’t go on.”

  She stepped away and put her fingers to her lips. “Around back.”

  Iain followed her around the side of the cottage. They sat on a rickety bench pushed up against the side of the barn, where they had a view of the back of the house, the side paddock, and the trees. It was a good vantage point and a good place to talk privately.

  He leaned his head back and blew out a weary breath. His time with Palmer this afternoon had been more stressful than he’d realized, and only now did he begin to relax. Funny that he could allow himself to relax around Cait.

  “It has to stop,” he said again.

  “Nay.”

  “Cait…” No one had ever shaken him the way Cait Campbell did. He’d always prided himself on the fact that no matter what was thrown his way, he would accept it calmly and handle it efficiently. But Cait challenged his calm, and that frustrated him.

  “You were almost caught today,” he said, bravely attempting to control his rising ire.

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “Not yet. But what about tomorrow? Or the next day or the day after that? Eventually, your luck will run out, and then what?”

  “And then I will figure it out.”

  He breathed deep to control his anger and his fear. It was his fear for her safety that was the most overwhelming. He didn’t think he’d ever been this scared for anyone, and it was a confusing emotion. “So you will repeatedly risk your life?”

  “I will do what I have to for these people who are hunted like animals. If ye could see the hopelessness inside of them, Iain, ye would understand.”

  “I do understand—”

  “Ye don’t or ye wouldn’t ask me to stop.”

  “Cait…please…can we speak without arguing?”

  “Who’s arguing? I’m not arguing.”

  If he hadn’t been so damn weary and scared, he would have laughed at her belligerence. “You’re disagreeing with everything I say.”

  “That’s not arguing. That’s disagreeing.”

  He sucked in air through his front teeth. “Cait…” he said in warning.

  She held up her hand. “Say what ye came here to say. I’ll no’ interrupt, but that means when ye’re finished, it’s my turn and ye’ll no’ interrupt.”

  “Fair enough.” Although he wasn’t certain he could hold up his end of that bargain.

  She nodded regally. “Proceed.”

  “Palmer could have easily found the people you were hiding.” There. That sounded much better and less antagonistic. “And I would not have been able to save you.” He waited for her to agree with him, but true to her word, she did not interrupt. “English soldiers were killed not far from here, and you’re hiding their enemies in your home. You have to realize that this is not only dangerous but irresponsible and inadvisable. I’m asking you to please stop.”

  She waited to make sure he was finished, and then she took a deep breath. “While I don’t believe Palmer would have discovered the fugitives, I respect your concern.”

  He opened his mouth to say that Palmer had discovered her many loaves of bread and would make a connection, but she put her finger against his lips to silence him. “It’s my turn.” She pulled away, and he had a need to grab her finger and bring it back to his lips for a kiss. “I’ve had English soldiers in my home before while harboring the refugees. The Scotsmen know the rules, and they know when to be quiet, but that’s beside the point.” She shifted toward him and folded her hands in her lap. “I canno’ and I will no’ stop. I won’t even argue that these people need me, because ye know they do. Frankly, I’m disappointed in ye for asking me to stop when so many people need our help.” She looked off in the distance, and Iain watched the play of sunshine across her skin. “After John died, I…I died, too. I’d lost my daughter the year before, and suddenly, the man I loved with all my heart was gone as well. There seemed no reason to go on. I was empty. I moved out here because I could face no one. But being a healer doesn’t give me the luxury of pity or solitude. People still needed my help, and I couldn’t turn them away.”

  Iain didn’t want to hear about John but knew they both needed to face it if he had any hope of a relationship with Cait.

  “One day Sutherland came to me with a wounded man. I fixed him—his injury wasn’t that great—and Sutherland and I started talking. He’d recently lost his healer and asked if I’d want to move closer to his home and become the Sutherland healer. I considered it. But I couldn’t do it. As much as I hated you and blamed you for John’s death…” She glanced at Iain to gauge his reaction to that statement. “I couldn’t leave Campbell land, so I said I would no’ leave but would help him when I could. Culloden came and went. I helped a few wounded Scotsmen who found their way to me, and I even helped a few English soldiers. It didn’t bother me, helping the English soldiers. They were wounded and needed my care just as much as my countrymen. I was a healer. I healed. That was my calling. And through my calling, I found purpose.

  “A few week
s after Culloden, Sutherland told me about his…clandestine activities. He was in desperate straits because he had so many people fleeing Scotland that he didn’t know what to do with them. He and I prepared the old cellar in the cottage. We enlarged it, made it more comfortable, reinforced the stairs, and built a new trapdoor. And soon I had a steady stream of people who were more desperate than I had ever been. Like me, they’d lost everything, and they were still willing to carry on. The least—the very least—I could do was give them a place to stay and food in their bellies.

  “My purpose grew, and with that growth, my grief diminished. I’d lost a husband and a daughter. They’d lost their entire family, their clan, and they were about to lose their country. How could I not help?” She looked him in the eye. “How can I not continue to help them? For one night, I’m all that stands between them and death, all because they fought for the country they love. And maybe in a way I saw John in the men who came through here. Because he was so passionate about Scotland’s freedom, he easily could have been one of them. Don’t ye see? I can’t stop no matter how much ye rail and yell and demand.”

  “I don’t rail and yell,” he said, slightly offended.

  She laughed, and he was glad to see that he could make her laugh even though his thoughts were heavy and there was grief in her eyes.

  “So you won’t cease your activities,” he said.

  “I will no’.”

  “I worry about you.”

  “No need. What will happen will happen.”

  “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  “We are responsible for our own actions in this life.”

  He felt drained, hollowed out. He couldn’t imagine how Cait must feel.

  She wiped at her eyes and stood to shake out her skirts. “I’m sure ye have plenty to do besides yammering away with me.”

  “There’s nowhere I want to be more,” he said, not thinking about his words, just saying what he felt, because what had Cait said? That they were responsible for their own actions in this life? He’d always been responsible, always weighing his words, his actions, his expressions. He never did anything without thinking through the consequences. But right now, right here, he didn’t want to think about anything except the warm sun on his face and the peacefulness of Cait’s barn.