Perhaps she hadn’t realized what she longed for. Perhaps she tried to smother the memory beneath layers of annoyance. But there it was.
His lips were gentler now, though every whit as insistent as they moved over hers. He tasted, prodding with his tongue, catching hers between his teeth.
She felt his hand slide down her shoulder, then mold her breast, making it fill and swell beneath his touch. She quivered. She melted. Rachel’s back bent as her body arched toward him.
It was almost more than she could bear.
And then it... he... was gone.
Rachel stumbled back, nearly falling in the process. He might have come to her assistance except that he had already turned away. Had already started along the path. She watched his stiff back crisscrossed with his musket, powder horn, and their blankets in disbelief.
Unfulfilled desire strummed through her veins, making her feel hot, though the day held a chill. But that’s not what made her run after him. What made her shove him with both palms.
He was so large and solid, the blow affected her more than him. But she did have the satisfaction of seeing him turn, his face full of anger. “How dare you,” were the only words that came out.
His jaw clenched and he seemed to clamp down on his fury. “I apologize.” He whipped back toward the trail. “It shan’t happen again.”
For a moment she just stood, her mouth gaping open. He thought she was angry about the kiss. Rachel could barely keep from laughing. Silly, silly man.
Had he forgotten the way she danced for him... did her best to seduce him? Didn’t he notice the zeal with which she kissed him back?
He didn’t.
The thought came to her unbidden. Rachel closed her eyes and let herself feel. Let her heart feel.
He imagined he took advantage of her. That’s what he was thinking. That she was confused and frightened and more than a bit daft and he should be able to control his desires.
Rachel smiled when she realized how much he did want her. His goal was to get her to his brother and his wife without compromising her again.
Rachel called behind her for Henry to wake up and come along. Then she started after Logan. The poor man was going to have a difficult time achieving that goal.
~ ~ ~
He could use a drink.
Logan sat near the small fire he made in a clearing on the banks of a splashing stream and wished he had a jug. A swallow of rum would go a long way toward calming his desires... or perhaps it wouldn’t. Still...
He hadn’t had a drink since they left for Cheoah. And there were times he missed it. Especially now. “Do you want more?”
“What?” Logan stared over to where Rachel knelt beside the fire. She had done an admirable job of roasting the fish he caught earlier... at least they weren’t burned beyond recognition. Now she gazed up at him through the wavery smoke. “Nay, I’ve had my fill.”
Logan watched as she gave what was left of the trout to Henry, grimacing when he mentally thought of the dog by that name. Without even waiting for it to cool, the animal gulped it down, ignoring even Rachel’s lament that he might burn himself. He folded his arms. She could no more talk to animals than he could. He shoved from his mind the sight of her explaining why she was leaving to the cow they left at the Campbells’. All that scene did was reinforce his fear that she was mad.
He glanced up to see her watching him, her head bent to one side. He shifted self-consciously, then looked away.
“I’m not, you know.”
“Not what?”
She inched closer to him. “Ready for Bedlam. That is what you were thinking.”
Logan started to deny it, then realized she hadn’t worded it in the form of a question. And that was exactly what he was thinking.
“I realize it must seem strange to you... actually ’tis strange for me, too.” She somehow managed to settle so close to him that he caught the sweet fragrance of her skin. “You really don’t have anything to fear from me you know.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Really? Then why are you moving away?” Rachel sighed. “’Tis not as if we haven’t made love already.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Because of what happened to Mary?”
Her brow wrinkled and Logan had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Mary has nothing to do with this.”
“Then why were you thinking of her?”
Logan scrambled to his feet so quickly that Rachel who’d been leaning on his knee, fell forward. “What I’m thinking is that I’ll keep watch. You get some sleep,” was all he said before grabbing up the musket and disappearing into the darkness.
Which, of course, wasn’t what he was thinking at all. Rachel wrapped her arms around bent knees. Her little ploy to confront him and his fears of her had failed miserably. He’d not only been convinced she was mad when he jumped up, but that he was, too.
In trying to get closer to him, she’d alienated the one human being she was destined to be around... at least for a while. Rachel stretched out on the blanket, groaning at how hard the ground was. Obviously the spirits who sent her to him were prone to mistakes. Not only was her own death an example, but their theory that she could do anything about Logan MacQuaid showed them to be true bunglers.
She was no closer to really saving his life now than when she arrived. And no closer to home.
Chapter Thirteen
“Yet many will not believe there is any such thing as a sympathy of souls.”
— Izaak Walton
Life of Dr. Donne
It took them four more days to reach his brother’s home and not once during that time was Rachel called upon to save his life. They walked along in near silence through pine forests and over hillocks, following the trail that curved along beside a swift running stream. No longer was she tempted to startle him into accepting her power to read his thoughts.
For she no longer could.
It was as if again he’d built an invisible wall about himself. One that not only kept her out, but him locked inside. He didn’t smile. He merely trudged. And Rachel found herself missing his witty sarcasm.
Her nose angled higher with each mile, hoping he’d call her “Your Highness” as he was prone to do when she became haughty. But he didn’t. He barely spoke at all.
Rachel felt a great deal of relief and anticipation when he announced Seven Pines was over the next ridge. Despite her fatigue she almost ran to get her first glimpse. Glad when she finally saw it that she hadn’t taken the trouble.
Seven Pines wasn’t nearly as grand as she imagined it might be. Not that the compound was particularly small. The house, the first she’d seen in this life constructed of something other than rough logs, was painted white and had two stories. The glass in the windows sparkled in the late afternoon sun, giving them a jewellike appearance. Several outbuildings nestled about the main house and beyond them were fields.
Not a grand estate that befitted the daughter of an earl, of course, but it did appear to offer some semblance of civilization. Perhaps there was a bath and a bed. The very thought quickened her pace as she started down into the vale. It had been so long since she bathed in anything but a cold creek. And the thought of snuggling between soft sheets was enough to make her swoon with joy.
Before they were halfway across the clearing the front door opened. The tall dark man who stepped outside, cradling a long rifle in his arms looked fierce.
Only after instinctively stepping behind Logan did Rachel remember her task. She boldly moved in front of him, but by that time the tense moment was past. The man, who she now assumed was Logan’s brother, walked toward them, his hand out in welcome.
“Logan.” They pumped each other’s hand, then Logan’s brother reached out enveloping him in a bear hug. Rachel thought the dark eyes had an unnatural sheen when he called over his shoulder. “Caroline, look who has come home.”
Rachel glanced toward the door as a young woman stepped o
ut. She, too, held a gun which she leaned against the front wall before descending the three steps to the gravel walk. She shaded her eyes as she came forward. Then broke into an awkward run when she recognized her brother-in-law.
“Be careful, Caroline.” Her husband placed a steadying hand on her arm before she threw herself at Logan.
“Let me look at you.” She pulled away enough to take his bristled face between her delicately shaped hands. “Too thin, just as I thought.”
“I can hardly say the same of you, Caro.”
Her refined laugh joined the hearty chuckle of the two men. “Hardly.” She looked down at the curve of her stomach. “But what can you expect when I carry another child of Wolf’s inside me.”
“Another baby. I know I’ve been away awhile. Have I lost count? This is number three, is it not?”
“Four,” corrected his brother, looking more like a proud father than a man called Wolf.
“You haven’t been home in over three years,” Caroline added. And Rachel thought her more saddened by her words than angry. But before she could reflect on the reason for this, Caroline turned, seemingly noticing her for the first time.
“I do apologize.” She held out her hands toward Rachel. “Do forgive our rudeness. It’s just been so long.” Her gaze returned to linger on Logan for an instant before focusing on Rachel. “I’m Caroline MacQuaid and this is my husband, Raff, although he is also called Wolf.”
“This is Rachel Elliott,” Logan introduced. “She’s... an acquaintance of mine.”
Rachel admired Caroline’s inbred manners for she didn’t blink an eye at Logan’s awkward introduction. Nor did she seem to take note of the horrid condition of Rachel’s gown. She simply linked her arm with Rachel’s and headed toward the doorway, where two dark-eyed children stood.
“Do come inside. You must be exhausted and hungry. Children,” she said, touching each of their heads as she passed. “We have a guest.”
The boy bowed, the girl curtsied in a way that brought tears of homesickness to Rachel’s eyes. She blinked quickly, managed a nod and was bustled inside.
“I shall present them to you later after you’ve rested,” Caroline said.
~ ~ ~
Sheets. The bed had sheets. Rachel had to fight the tears as she sat on the side of the mattress, running her hand along the stretch of white linen. She had been shown up a narrow stairway to this room by a Cherokee woman named Sadayi. Rachel assumed she was a servant but she seemed to be treated more like a member of the family by Caroline.
Containing a bed, dresser, and two winged chairs set at an angle beside the fireplace, the room was not large. But it was comfortable, even by Rachel’s standards, and clean.
She almost hated to lie on the brightly colored quilt for fear of soiling it. The dust of the trail seemed ground into her skin. Rachel didn’t have to look into the beveled mirror over the chest to prove that.
Rachel slid off the bed, nearly groaning as her tired feet hit the braided rug. She paced to the window, lifting the simple curtains to the side and peering out. Her view was of the trees and mountains behind the house. She caught a glimmer of water—the river whose churning lullaby was beginning to make her eyes droop.
But there was no sign of Logan.
She hated having him out of her sight like this. What if something happened to him? He could encounter all manner of dangers, and who would be there to save him?
Sighing, Rachel let the fabric slide through her fingers. There was nothing she could do now. Besides, at her last glimpse of him, he was accompanying his brother into a small room opposite the parlor. There seemed to be nothing but brotherly love between the two. Rachel slipped off her moccasins and climbed onto the bed. She yawned... loudly. He would be all right while she rested. Just for a moment.
Hours later Rachel’s eyes sprang open, but she could see little except a rosy glow. She was comfortable and warm, lying on something as soft as a cloud and for a moment her senses convinced her she’d returned to the angels.
She was on her way home. They realized her task was done. She’d saved his life and now could get on with her own. Where she belonged. Without Logan MacQuaid.
Rachel let out her breath when she heard the soft tapping. Her limbs relaxed and she turned her head enough to see a sliver of moonlight reflected off the window panes. Of course, she was at Seven Pines.
The door creaked open and a small wedge of light flickered through. Rachel saw Caroline’s face above the candle she held.
“Do come in.” Rachel pushed to sit up. “I’m awake.”
“Are you certain I’m not disturbing you?” Caroline opened the door a bit wider. “I only came to check if you were all right, and ask if you’d like something to eat.”
Rachel’s stomach growled at the thought of food. “Yes, a bite of something would be lovely.”
Caroline turned and spoke in low tones to someone in the hall, then smiled at Rachel. “It won’t take long.” She began to close the door. “Good night then.”
“Wait.” Rachel whipped off the quilt. “I mean, do come in. Perhaps you would like to join me?”
Caroline hesitated a moment, then entered the room, cupping the flame to keep it from sputtering.
“I’ve already taken my evening meal. But I will keep you company if you like.”
“I’d like that very much.” Rachel’s feet slid to the floor. She considered pulling on her moccasins but decided against it. The room was warm—someone must have tended the fire while she slept. A vision of Logan flashed through her mind.
“Everyone has eaten?” The question sounded innocent enough, she supposed, but Rachel was thinking of Logan. She looked down, shaking out what was left of her skirts to hide the color she felt flooding her cheeks. But she needn’t have bothered. Caroline was turned away, placing the brass candlestick on the dresser.
“Yes, hours ago. I sent Sadayi up to wake you but she returned, saying you seemed so weary.”
“I suppose I was. I don’t even recall her presence.” Rachel took one of the chairs angled before the fire, offering the other to Caroline. Caroline sat, grasping the check-covered chair arms and lowering herself awkwardly.
Her smile was self-effacing when she glanced up. “I doubt my confinement will last much longer. When the other children made me this uncomfortable they were born shortly after.”
“How selfish of me. I didn’t mean to keep you from your bed. Of course you must find a more agreeable position to—”
Caroline’s laughter cut off her words. “Oh, do forgive me. I don’t mean to make light of your suggestion. ’Tis simply that there is no agreeable position.”
“Oh.”
“Do not look so stricken. ’Tis not nearly so bad as that.” She shifted, settling her feet upon a small stool. “As I said. This won’t last much longer. And then I shall have another dark-eyed babe to present to my husband.”
She said the last with such obvious love and devotion that Rachel felt as if she were eavesdropping on a private moment. Her lashes fluttered down, but when she looked up Caroline’s expression had changed. She was studying Rachel with avid interest.
“Do forgive me for asking, but...” She sighed and clamped her lips shut. “Nay, ’tis as Wolf says, none of my business.”
“You wonder what I am doing here. Dressed as I am.” Rachel’s fingers skimmed down the front of her tattered gown. “With your brother-in-law.”
“W-ell.” Caroline spread the word out. “It is a question that crossed my mind. Not your clothing,” she added quickly. “Days on the trail would explain that easily enough.”
“But my coming here with Logan is less easily unraveled?”
“Logan’s appearance at all is a surprise... a pleasant one, I assure you, but...” Caroline’s voice trailed off. “He keeps so to himself. We’ve only seen him once since he left.”
“And you’ve been worried.” Rachel wasn’t sure if she read the other woman’s thoughts or simply the concern in
her delicate, cameo face.
“Oh yes. Wolf and I both are very concerned, though Wolf, perhaps because he is a man, hesitates to admit it. But I see him at times looking up toward the mountains, and I know what he’s thinking... who he thinks about. Especially since he discovered James.
“James?”
“Of course, you wouldn’t know of him, for Logan doesn’t. Apparently everyone thought him dead, hanged before Robert brought Logan to the frontier.”
Rachel blinked... confused. All of a sudden Caroline’s thoughts were coming to her, quite easily. But so were her words. So used to Logan’s reticence, to the wall he built around himself, Rachel found this plethora of information, both spoken and sensed, overwhelming.
Yet she didn’t dare do anything to stem the flow.
With renewed determination Rachel focused her attention.
James was an older brother. Logan’s older brother. And over two years ago, Caroline and Wolf discovered he was alive, married, and the owner of a shipping company in Charles Town.
“You must have been so excited, finding someone you thought was dead.” Much as the queen and her court would be when Rachel reappeared.
“We were. For Wolf it was like finding a bit of himself.”
Again Rachel’s senses were flooded by the warm, loving feeling Caroline had for her husband.
“Though they never knew each other before, Wolf and James have become friends. Anne, his wife, and I have as well.”
And they’d talked of finding Logan, of going into the mountains to search for him. But they didn’t know where he was or even if he was still alive. Logan’s life seemed to mean nothing to him. He even confided to Wolf that it might be best if he threw himself from the highest summit one day never to be heard from again.
“Are you all right?”
Rachel opened her eyes to find Caroline and the Cherokee woman Sadayi leaning over her. Caroline swished a handkerchief, stirring a flutter of air. “I rose to let Sadayi into the room and when I looked back you’d grown so pale and your eyes were closed.” She moved to the side. “Perhaps I should wake Logan.”
Christine Dorsey - [MacQuaid 02] Page 19