by Ashley York
He heard the horse before he saw it.
Calum jumped down as it slowed in front of Seumas. “They are coming.”
“Who?” Calum ran to Iseabail’s side, tossing the herbs to Seumas, who caught them midair. “Who, Calum? Who is coming?”
“The guards from the castle.”
Iseabail shifted in her sleep, oblivious to the approaching danger.
“Why are the guards coming? What has happened?”
“They said I stole the horse, m’lord.” Calum spoke the words quietly as he stroked the mare’s mane. “I did not mean it. I simply did not want to leave it in the barn. It is a wonderful horse.”
Seumas rolled his eyes at Calum’s affectionate statement. “Indeed,” Seumas stated flatly.
It was time to go. Though he would have been able to clear the matter up with a few sharp words, that course of action would necessitate exposing Calum and Iseabail to the attention of the castle guards. If they felt the need to travel incognito for protection, he would not let them be seen.
“Put my things in the bag and secure them to the horse. Quickly, Calum.”
Seumas lifted Iseabail into his arms with as little movement as possible. He kicked dirt and leaves over the remains of the fire and removed any trace of the time they had spent in the area. Seumas directed Calum to get back on the horse. He had no problem finding the deer path leading further into the woods—he knew the area from hunting. There was a cave not far away, if he could just find it. And if it was large enough for all of them to hide in.
Within minutes, the sound of several horses came from the distance. There were voices, but he could not hear what was being said. He saw the cave, and they ducked inside. Calum jumped off the horse and led it further away from the entrance. Seumas wanted to stand watch at the cave mouth to see who was chasing Calum, but Iseabail came first. She moaned, her pain visible. Damn, he had thought her better.
Light filtered in from overhead. He went deeper into the cave and eventually found both Calum and the horse. Stalactites hung from the roof of the cave, their sparkling flecks reflected in the wet cavern walls around them. Calum’s mouth hung open; he was enthralled by the sight. The horse nudged his hand as if to ask for an explanation of their whereabouts. He stroked her nose.
“It is beautiful,” Calum exclaimed, delight evident on his face. “How can they be so thin and not break?” He reached as if to touch them but thought better of it. “They are perfect.”
Seumas sat on the floor against the far wall and rocked Iseabail in his arms. “Shh,” he crooned to her. “All is well. We are safe now.”
She murmured her agreement.
He motioned to Calum to bring the skin from his saddlebags.
Calum dropped down on the ground beside him and handed him the water. “Are they gone yet?”
Seumas held his finger to his lips to silence him. He took a sip and licked his dry lips. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to hear what he could not see. Before long, he heard the men pass on by and knew they had not seen the cave.
Seumas opened his eyes and smiled at Calum. “Close call, lad. Ye must be more careful.” He handed the skin back to Calum, who took a sip and nodded his agreement. “It is my horse, ye know, so ye were not even stealing. But ye were right to run so ye would not be discovered.”
Calum nodded with a big yawn but said no more, and it was not long before he was propped next to him, sleeping snuggled up to his arm. Seumas tucked the arm around the boy, who continued to sleep, his head dropping heavily against Seumas’s side.
Seumas yawned and struggled to keep his eyes open. Holding Iseabail, on the other hand, was no struggle at all. Her small bottom rested in his lap and her soft body molded to his chest, her head tucked under his chin. She felt so good in his arms. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and listen to her moans of pleasure when he nibbled her neck. With his free hand, he pushed her hair away from the sensitive area. He wanted to kiss her there, to taste her. She snored. He dropped her hair.
Despite the trouble she had caused him, he was undeniably drawn to her. She made him want what he could not have. In a different life, he might have taken her to wife, and she would have been in his bed pleasuring him instead of traipsing through the woods. It would have been his honor to be her protector. He would also have taken her to task for putting her life and the life of her little brother in peril.
As it was, he had no physical reaction to her. He was better off just seeing her on her way. And if he decided she would be better off, he would turn her over to whoever hunted her himself. Intruder or not.
Chapter 11
Iseabail awoke to find herself lying on the ground, her brother sleeping in front of her. The light from the fire reminded her of the castle and reignited her fear. For a moment, she believed she had not escaped, but then the memories came rushing back.
The pain in her head had lessened. The pain in her leg had not.
“Oww.” She hissed through her clenched jaw.
Seumas was right there, bending over her. She remembered his gentleness when he had carried her. His calloused hand was warm where it pushed the hair out of her face. “Are ye in great pain?”
“My leg.” She reached toward it, but he gently pushed her down. He scrutinized her wound. She bit her lip to stop the cry of pain his probing fingers caused.
“It is healing well.” He sat on his haunches.
She answered him with a slight nod, glancing at Calum.
Seumas frowned and handed her his water skin. “I do not think ye have to worry about waking yer brother. He sleeps like the dead.”
She propped herself up slowly and accepted the drink. “How did we get here?” She glanced around. “Is it a cave?”
“We had a little adventure. We needed to hide. Yer brother can tell ye when he awakens.”
“You had to carry me then?”
His eyes were dark. “Ye have been very sick. None the worse for wear, though.”
“No. Thank you for your assistance...again.”
“Let us not make a habit of it.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. She shivered at a sudden cold draft. “Do ye need another blanket?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Further in the cave,” he pointed toward the darkest corner of their little room, “I found a pool with fresh water and a hot spring.”
“A real hot spring?” Iseabail had only heard of such things.
“Methinks it would be safe for ye to soak in. It may ease the pain.”
Iseabail glanced at her little brother. He turned away from the fire and mumbled something incoherent.
“I will be right here. Come.” Seumas reached out to help her. “Are ye strong enough to stand?”
Slowly, she stood. She smiled at him. “Aye, and the pain in my head is gone.” The throbbing in her calf had lessened, but the thought of putting too much weight on it made her grab his outstretched arm before she fell. “I am afraid I cannot walk without help.”
“No need.” Seumas scooped her up and carried her toward the part of the cave she had not yet seen. He moved stiffly and seemed to hold her less tightly than he had before…but maybe she was wrong—she had been in great pain. Or was he upset with her?
She might have been a feather in his strong embrace, but she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck to feel secure. He looked straight ahead, and she studied his face. There were laugh lines around his eyes and a deep furrow in his brow. His dark eyes darted toward her. He knew she looked at him.
“See anything ye like, then?”
“No. I mean…” Her face was hot. He had sounded irritated. “I did not mean to stare.”
He made a sort of grumbling sound deep in his chest before he abruptly set her down. He reached to help her untie the cloak, but she grabbed at his hands.
“I can do it.”
A fire burned beside the small, dark pool. No light reflected within to give any indication of the steaming water’s depth. She unfastened
her cloak, taking in the scene. “How enchanting.”
Seumas took the cloak off her shoulders before she could protest.
Her eyes widened. “The will,” she cried.
Seumas froze where he stood, the cloak hanging from his extended hand. “What?”
“Inside. Please be careful.” She reached for the cloak, and Seumas returned it to her. She quickly fished inside and withdrew the leather packet. “Oh, thank God.” She sighed in relief, holding the paper close to her face.
He looked at her with a question.
She had not meant to reveal so much and nibbled at her lower lip in indecision.
Trust no one.
“What is it?” he finally asked. Perhaps it was the tilt of his head, but she could see doubt on his face. Did he believe she would lie or simply not answer?
She replaced the missive within her cloak, buying time to think. When she handed it back, her decision was made. “It is our only protection against our uncle.”
He started to remove her shoes. The intimate gesture sent a shiver through her, but he tended to the business at hand without so much as a wayward glance. Her toe stuck out through a hole in her hose. Seumas smiled. She smiled at him in return, and, thankfully, it broke the tension. Iseabail wanted to explain, to trust him. He gave her an opening.
“An uncle, is it? Calum referred to him only as the intruder.” Seumas placed her worn shoes beside the cloak.
“My mother died very unexpectedly when I was only eleven. My father, John, died a slow, agonizing death which caused him to become a mere shell of the man he had once been.” She paused and smiled at Seumas through her sadness. “I really come from two worlds. My mother’s clan is not a powerful one, but it has solid alliances that made it impossible for my grandfather, her father, to just allow her to walk away. But she loved my father so. He was powerful in his own right but English, the son of an Earl. When he met my mother, he did not care about any of that.
“He knew he was dying,” she said softly. “He made up a will to protect the clan.”
“So yer father was accepted by the clan?”
“Oh, it was for the love of my mother, to be sure. My grandfather only had the one surviving child. Her younger brothers, along with most of the young men, had all died off, both from natural causes and violence. My grandfather decided to accept their marriage rather than lose her, too. The clan learned to love him. He was a great warrior and very fair minded. Methinks it pained him to turn away from his own family, but he was considered as loyal as any man in the clan and none came against him. They sought his wisdom and his decisions were trusted.”
“So why the will?”
“His father was powerful and not happy to lose his oldest son. At first, the man made all kinds of moves against the Scots to get them to expel my father, but they would have none of it. They respected his decision to become a MacNaughton. That is how he knew he had to write a will that could not be overturned. My grandfather became so incensed at my da leaving that he would have taken any opportunity to get back at us, and what better way than to steal the land that is our lifeblood?
“My uncle came as soon as my father died and took over our lands. He claimed familial rights and now no one can gainsay him unless they want to go against the English king. But, since we have the will, we have heard in the court that we might have a chance. We need to find someone knowledgeable enough to stand against our uncle.”
“But, lass.” His gaze was intent, and he hesitated as if choosing his words carefully. “Why would ye believe ye could leave the protection of yer home and venture out with only a nine-year-old boy to look after ye? That is a bit daft. Did ye not know what danger there would be?”
“I was not supposed to be unprotected.”
“Then where is yer protector now?” His eyes were wide with accusation and his brows nearly touched his hairline.
“My brother, Iain, was coming, too.” She knew she sounded defensive. She could not stand the look of indictment on his face. “After Calum and I got away from the castle, we waited. Iain never came, and we did not dare go back.” She finally glanced away from him. “My uncle would have killed us.”
Seumas rubbed at the bristle on his chin. His eyes narrowed as he seemed to ponder her story. “Ye do not know what happened to yer brother?”
She shook her head. “I had no way of finding out, so we continued looking for assistance. We hoped to be back within a week’s time…with help.”
“That was unbelievably foolish. Ye could have been killed or raped or come to harm in so many different ways.” Despite the intensity of the words, Seumas’s voice stayed quiet. His face unreadable.
She did not know what else to tell him. He did not ask many questions, but he certainly knew who to blame for her predicament. Her. He was right, of course, and it pained her to admit it.
“I have built a fire to keep it warm in here.” Seumas seemed to have learned all he needed to know and dismissed her with a small shake of his head.
“You have thought of everything.” She went along with the change of subject.
“I tried to anticipate, while ye and yer brother snored loud enough to give our location away.”
“We do not snore.” She smiled and stopped herself just short of smacking his chest for the teasing. She feared her hand would linger, feeling for the heartbeat beneath his black tunic. She cleared her throat.
Seumas sat on the floor beside her. Steam rose from the water and even the walls of the cave dripped. He trickled his finger along the top of the water.
“It feels wonderful. Try it,” Seumas encouraged her, and she dipped her hand into the water.
“It is very warm.” She lifted her skirts slightly to look at the injury, flexing her foot to assess the amount of pain. “Is it prudent for me to go in with this?”
“It will be good for yer wound. It will also be good for yer head.” He tapped on the side of her head then stroked her hair back behind her ear. He withdrew his hand abruptly. “Methinks it will help ye feel better.”
Iseabail wanted to take his hand and hold it to her face. She might have turned into it and kissed the palm. Instead, she did nothing. Iseabail’s stomach growled and her eyes widened.
Seumas smiled at her embarrassment. “I will get us some food directly. Can ye get in the water without help?” His gaze was clear and direct, and somewhat intimidating, almost as if he did not want to help her.
“Methinks I can manage. I feel much less shaky.”
Seumas stood and put some wood on the fire. “Then I will leave ye to it.” He strode away without looking back.
Working in stages, Iseabail managed to get her dress up her legs, under her bottom and over her head. She removed her dagger then sat in her chemise and rested. She ran her fingers through the water again then dipped her legs in. It was not deep at all. A natural protrusion from the rock turned out to be the perfect place for her to sit with her body submerged to mid-chest. The water lapped around her, soaking the material, molding it to her. The heat on her body made her groan in appreciation. She ducked under a little more to cover herself and push the water around her entire body.
Unexpectedly, she slipped off the rock and discovered she had actually been on the ledge and that the pool itself was much deeper. She grimaced in pain and grabbed at the ledge. The rocks were coated with a slimy substance that made it near impossible to grasp. Her injured leg ached as she was forced to tread water or drown. Imbecile! Yet again, she would need to call to Seumas for help or die by drowning.
“Seumas!”
She tried not to panic, but the warmth of the water she had enjoyed moments before seemed to squeeze her chest. The heaviness of her soaked chemise tugged her down as if the watery depths would swallow her whole.
“Please, Seumas, I cannot get out.”
Her head ducked under the water, and she clawed at the rock she had been sitting on, barely breaking the water’s surface in time to catch her breath.
“S
eumas!”
Chapter 12
Seumas paused before leaving the cave. All was quiet. There was no sign of the men who had chased Calum. They had probably just been bored and were making a game of it. Chasing a mere boy, and a boy who did not belong, made it even more fun.
There was no reason to think the guards would really have taken his horse. It belonged to Seumas, after all—the only thing he had taken from his home when he left.
Home.
In his mind’s eyes, he imagined it. The stars twinkling overhead. The sound of water gently lapping the banks along the loch. Longing gripped his heart.
He walked the few feet to where he had set his snare. A fat rabbit swung from the length of the rope. Seumas grabbed its back feet to release the loop. It struggled in his arms.
“Och, now, none of that. Ye shall be a tasty little supper.”
There was a sound from the cave. Seumas turned and listened. Nothing. He took the knife from his belt and secured the animal under his arm. The high-pitched sound came again.
Just a few feet inside the entrance, he realized something was wrong. Calum was rubbing his eyes, awakened by the noise. Seumas heard Iseabail’s cry for help.
He tossed the furry creature to the boy. “Stay here, Calum.”
Iseabail’s head dipped below the water. His heart slammed into his throat. He threw himself down and grabbed where he’d last seen her. Nothing. He felt around under the surface, swinging his arm in a wide arc to cover more area, with no better result. With dripping wet hands, he tore off his boots and tunic. He dropped into the warm water. It was pitch black. No sign of her anywhere.
“Iseabail.” He took a deep breath and went under. Almost immediately, he bumped something floating. He grabbed it and hauled it to the surface.
Iseabail coughed and gasped for air. He held her by the waist and pulled them both to the edge. He sat on the rock and held her on his lap, cradling her like a child.