Chapter 4

4

A fter returning home, Caitlin had slept like a felled tree for several hours. When she woke, she dressed in layers of her warmest clothing, then unlocked her uncle's gun closet and pulled out a rifle, a shotgun, and ammunition. She checked that the weapons were clean and ready, then loaded each and set them on the kitchen table along with extra ammunition.

The next most important matter was food. As she'd hoped, there were root vegetables in the cold cellar, a well seasoned ham in the pantry, and jars of herbs she'd raised and dried herself. She gave thanks that the house hadn't been broken into and robbed, but her uncle had been much loved by the people on his estate. She was sure that Fergus, his best friend and closest neighbor, had been keeping an eye on the house and livestock and was hoping for her return.

After his death, when the Dawsons had taken Caitlin away, people had assumed that she would be back soon. She'd thought the same. She swore under her breath at the memory of how she'd been betrayed.

She put together a simple savory soup and left it simmering over the fire. Then she lit a lamp in the kitchen because it was nearly dark and returned to the bed. Once more she fell into exhaustion.

The sound of the door opening and a blast of icy air brought her to terrified wakefulness. She dived from the bed and raced into the kitchen, grabbed the rifle, and aimed it at the door, her heart pounding. A man's broad shouldered, heavily swathed silhouette. If it was Dawson…

She barked, "Stop or I'll shoot!"

The man halted and raised his hands. "May I close the door?" he said in a deep voice with a slight Scottish burr. Not Dawson. "No need to invite the outside in."

"Move slowly," she ordered.

He obeyed and blocked the wind and icy particles. As he turned back to her, he drew down the scarf that had covered most of his face to reveal an unshaven jaw and wind-reddened cheeks.

It was the officer from the inn. Captain Cameron, he'd been called. He'd treated her gently despite what the Dawsons had said.

She'd been so frantic to escape that she hadn't noticed how damnably handsome he was. Strong, regular features, dark hair with glints of auburn, a face tanned under sunnier skies than Britain's, laugh lines around his grey green eyes, and an aura of peaceful strength.

He said, "If I promise I'm not here to drag you back to your cousins, will you lower that rifle?"

"Why did you come after me?" she asked sharply.

His gaze was steady on hers. "I'm a soldier. My job is to protect the innocent, so I'm incapable of standing by when someone is in deadly peril. I decided to see if I could find you. Sally McKay thought you might come here."

"A pity she was so helpful," Caitlin snapped.

"Let's declare a truce. Is there any chance of a cup of hot tea? After a dozen years in India, I'm no longer used to British winters."

Warily she said, "You risked your life to help me after I'd stolen your pocket knife and your horse?"

He gave her a swift smile. "Besides the general need to protect, I found your actions…intriguing."

He didn't seem inclined to seize her and she could use a cup of tea herself, so she lowered the rifle. After moving the weapons across the kitchen to a corner where she could grab one quickly if necessary, she turned to the kettle of water that had been simmering on the hob. "I don't have any milk, but I do have sugar."

"Tea with sugar would be very welcome," he said fervently.

She hadn't eaten since the evening before, so it sounded good to her as well. She pulled the china teapot that has been her mother's from a cabinet and measured in the tea leaves. After adding boiling water, she asked, "How did you find your way up here?"

"Sally McKay's map had the landmarks sketched in. She was very worried about you." He pulled off his greatcoat and hung it on a hook by the door, then sank wearily into a kitchen chair. "I'm impressed that you could ride Sahib. He's a grand horse, but not what is usually considered a lady's mount."

"I'm not what is usually consider a lady." She bit her lip. "I should apologize for stealing your horse, but I can't. He was the best mount available and I knew I'd need a really good horse to get up here in a blizzard. I had to have a serous discussion with him before he agreed to let me ride him."

The captain nodded knowingly. "In other words, he threw you."

She had to smile. "Yes, but he was very polite about it. I landed in a pile of hay. So I explained to him how much I needed his services. After that, he allowed me to mount and we headed off into the storm."

"Sahib is a very intelligent horse, and he can't resist helping a damsel in distress."

"You and your horse have come to resemble each other," she said with a hint of amusement. "What did you ride to get up here?"

"A sturdy gelding called Benjie. I bought him from Mr. McKay since I wasn't sure if I'd be returning to the inn."

Deciding that the tea had steeped enough, Caitlin poured it into two sturdy mugs and stirred spoonfuls of sugar into each. She set them on the table. "Would you like a bowl of soup? It's very simple but it's hot, and there are ship's biscuits in the larder."

"Better and better!" he said. "What can I do to help?"

"There are bowls and cutlery in that cabinet," she replied. "You can clean up after we finish." She watched to see if he'd look appalled to be asked to act as a scullion, but he only swallowed a large, near scalding mouthful of tea before saying, "Only fair."

She was really beginning to like this man. She ladled soup into two large bowls. It did smell lovely. She was glad she'd added the handful of dried herbs when she was making it.

After setting the bowls on the table, she returned to the larder for one of the metal boxes of ship's biscuit. The thin hard slices were just flour and water and a bit of salt and they'd been baked four times to prolong their storage life. They didn't have a lot of flavor, but they lasted indefinitely.

She handed several pieces of the biscuit to the captain, then sat down, feeling ravenous. The biscuit softened nicely when dipped into the soup. She ate two bowlfuls and the captain had three.

As he finished his third bowl, he said, "I'm not sure if the soup is outstanding or if I was just famished, but this was a very fine meal on a very cold night."

She nodded agreement. It was full dark by now. Gusts of sharp wind were still rattling the house, but Caitlin was home and relaxed and safe for now.

The captain poured more tea for them, then leaned back in his chair. "Now that hunger has been satisfied, will you tell me the real story of what's been going on?"

She froze, her mug of tea halfway to her lips. "What do you think has been going on?" she asked warily.

"You may have criminal tendencies, but you're obviously not mad," he said, his gray gaze holding hers. "My guess is that the Dawsons were abducting you for some reason, most likely one involving money since it's doubtful anything else would cause them to go to such effort."

She took a long swallow of tea to steady her nerves, then set the mug down, still warming her hands on it. "You're very astute, Captain Cameron. How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Several things," he said slowly. "The determination of the Dawsons to keep you from talking to anyone. The harshness of their behavior when they seem to have no compassion or sympathy for your situation. How did that benefit them?"

With a sigh, Caitlin waved her hand in a gesture that encompassed the house and the estate. "My parents died when I was young so I was raised by my father's older brother, James Wallace, the Laird of Braewood. He was a grand old man. Since he had no children, he raised me as his own." A smile flitted across her lips. "As if I was his son, actually. He taught me how to run the estate and made me his heir. His last wish was for me to find a husband and have a hatful of bairns."

"How did he die?" the captain asked quietly.

She swallowed hard. "Of a swift, vicious cancer. His nearest other relations were the Dawsons, second cousins once removed, I think. They came to Braewood to help, and they actually were rather useful during his illness. Then Uncle James died." Her voice broke before she continued. "Right after the funeral, I became horribly ill, out of my head. The neighbors were all very concerned. My uncle was…much loved and they liked me as well."

"I suspect this is where things went badly wrong," the captain said in a soft voice.

She nodded, so grief stricken and furious that she could barely talk. "The Dawsons live in Newcastle and they volunteered to take me to a physician there. They said he was brilliant and might be able to heal me." She laughed bitterly. "Their physician was certainly an expert in using drugs."

The captain's eyes turned to pure steel. "So they drugged and imprisoned you and tried to force you to sign the estate over to them."

Caitlin stared at him. "Captain, can you read minds?"

His gaze softened. "No, but having met the Dawsons, I realized that they were snakes in human clothing. They thought they could break you. They were wrong."

"Right again, Captain. But how did you know that much about me when I really was halfway to madness?"

He smiled a little. "You remind me of my sister Juliet, who is also a redhead and looks equally at ease holding a rifle."

She thought about that for a moment. "I'd like to know more about your sister, but now is not the time for distractions."

He nodded agreement. "What were the Dawsons' plans when you wouldn't break?"

"To take me back to Braewood in chains and sorrowfully show me off to the neighbors, saying that their physician hadn't been able to cure me," she sat flatly. "Then I would die mysteriously in the night. After they mourned my tragic death, they would produce the will I had allegedly written."

"One of the Dawsons was good at forgery?"

"Mrs. Dawson. They thought that if I died in Newcastle, suspicions might be raised here so they brought me back to show that I was still alive. Then they'd kill me with their damnable drugs."

The captain looked murderous. "Diabolical! But you were too strong and clever for them."

"I was neither strong nor clever," she said wearily. "Merely desperate. I just wanted to come home. But it's not really home without Uncle James and I'm only safe as long as this blizzard lasts."

"I'll keep you safe," he said in a voice of absolute promise.

As she gazed at him, she realized that he was speaking in dead earnest. The determination that had been keeping her going shattered and she began to weep as grief and fear rushed through her. He wouldn't think her strong any more, but that was all right because he'd said he'd keep her safe, and he would even though she was a craven, soggy mess.

Then warm arms came around her and the captain scooped her up and settled on the chair with her in his lap. She buried her face against his shoulder and surrendered to her grief and terror.

He said nothing, merely held her and stroked her back as she cried herself out. He produced a handkerchief from somewhere and tucked it into her hand. When she ran out of tears, she straightened and blew her nose. "As you see, I'm not strong at all."

"Everyone has a breaking point," he said, his deep voice resonating in his chest as she lay against him. "You stayed strong as long as you had to, and I'm sure you'll be strong again very soon."

She made a face. "I appreciate your optimism, Captain."

"Sorry, I can't help being optimistic, it's my nature."

She had been optimistic once. She hoped she would be again someday.

Knowing that it was none of her business, but wanting to understand more about this man, she asked softly, "Have you ever reached a breaking point?"

His arms tightened around her and there was a long pause before he answered. "Because my siblings and I spent most of our growing years in foreign places with no other children to play with, we became very close. In particular, I looked up to my brother Ian, who was oldest. I wanted to be just like him. He's a good part of the reason I joined the Indian Army. At first we were posted in different parts of India, so eventually I transferred to Cambay, where he was stationed. The work would be more challenging and I looked forward to seeing more of my brother.

"When I arrived at Cambay, Ian was off on a diplomatic mission in Central Asia. He was sometimes sent on those because of his language abilities. I'd done similar things and come back safely and I assumed he would, too."

When he fell silent, Caitlin said, "But that time he didn't?"

"Word came that he'd been imprisoned in Bokhara, the capital of Uzbekistan, and had almost certainly been executed." The captain drew a harsh breath. "Such things happen in that part of world. I mourned greatly, of course, but accepted that he was gone. Then after enduring months of horrendous captivity, he returned to Cambay looking like death, having been rescued by our sister Juliet and her husband."

"Your sister? " Caitlin said incredulously.

"Very intrepid woman." The captain smiled a little. "As I said, you remind me of her. Ian stayed with me for a few days in Cambay before setting off on a task he'd promised to fulfill. He returned with a lovely young wife, Laura, and resigned his commission when he learned that he'd inherited Falkirk. He and Laura set off to fulfill the last wish of her late Russian uncle before returning to Britain. In the course of that mission, he ended up single handedly holding off an Afghan invasion of India."

"Good heavens!" Caitlin gasped. "Your family's motto must be 'Intrepid!'"

"That's certainly true of Ian and Juliet," he agreed. "I'm the boringly average member of the family."

Caitlin doubted that, but was sure that he was unlikely to tell heroic tales about himself. "So Ian not only survived a dreadful captivity, but performed a stunning act of heroism. He's a brother well worth admiring. I assume that he and his wife were then able to return safely to Britain?"

"Nothing so straightforward," the captain said, his voice tight. "The mountain pass was so narrow that the Afghans were climbing single file, so Ian stationed himself in a mountain cave where he had a clear shot at the invaders and it was very hard for them to return fire. He's an excellent shot and held them off for many hours, but eventually he was exhausted and running out of ammunition. Ian had sent Laura riding off for help, and by sheer luck she intercepted me leading a troop of reinforcements, so we galloped off to find him, praying all the way."

Caitlin whistled softly. "Fate or divine intersession?"

"I'm not sure which," he said. "As we neared the site where Ian had stationed himself, I was incredibly relieved to hear shooting because that meant he was still alive. We were within sight of his cave when the Afghans brought up a piece of artillery and started blasting." The captain's voice broke before he continued in a flat voice, "We saw the mountain collapse on Ian's cave. It was…devastating."

Caitlin caught his hand and squeezed because she had no words equal to such a horror. After a long pause, the captain said harshly, "That was when I reached my breaking point. After all Ian had been through, to see him killed in front of our eyes…! I wanted to fall to the ground and howl to the heavens, but I couldn't because I was responsible for Laura and my lancers and we had to prevent a war."

"Dear God!" Caitlin breathed as she tried to imagine herself in the position of the captain and his brother's wife as they witnessed the catastrophic death of a man they both loved. This breaking point was different from what she'd endured, but equally excruciating. "I imagine you managed to keep going and do your duty, but how?"

His voice lightened. "There was a miracle. The avalanche had blocked the pass and stopped the Afghan invasion, but it turned out that the mountain was riddled with caves. Laura, who is as intrepid as you and Juliet, insisted that we search the mountain. I thought it was hopeless, but it was better to be doing something than nothing. We crawled for hours through the bowels of the earth and were about to give up when miraculously we found Ian, battered but more or less intact."

"What an amazing story!" Caitlin released her breath. "But I don't think even a miracle dissolves the pain of having been broken. Did you ever have a proper chance to drop to your knees and howl to the heavens?"

He stroked her back. "You're very perceptive. Yes, once I returned to Cambay I drowned my sorrows in true army officer fashion, meaning that for the second and last time in my life, I got falling down drunk, then slept the clock around. Very unlike me. After that I was able to carry on normally, except for the occasional nightmare."

She shuddered. "I'll never forget my breaking point, Captain, but having survived being broken is making me stronger in the mended places, I think."

"I feel the same, though I wouldn't wish such an experience on anyone!" He gazed down into her eyes. "Now that we've shared our horror stories, I think we've reached the point where we should use given names. Mine is David. With your permission, I'd like to call you Caitlin."

David . She'd heard that in Hebrew the name meant beloved . A good name for him for he was clearly much loved. "I'd like that, too, David. But after such wild adventures on the other side of the world, what brought you to the George Inn last night?"

He smiled. "I'm on my way to visit Ian and Laura at Falkirk, the family estate a bit north of Edinburgh. My siblings and I summered there during our school days, so this is like going home. Ian didn't expect to inherit, but he did and I have no doubt that he's an excellent master of Falkirk. After he learned that I was coming home, he and Laura decide to host a grand family house party from Christmas through Hogmanay and beyond. I'll be able to see everyone at once after too many years away."

She returned his smile. "So you're the prodigal son returning! Will there be a fatted calf?"

He laughed. "Perhaps. Certainly there will be haggis and unmanly hugs all around. Being Scots, we're a rather emotional lot, except for Juliet's husband who is English but otherwise a very decent fellow. I haven't seen her and Ross since their wedding, which was…" he paused to calculate, "fifteen years ago. Half my lifetime. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, including two very small nephews I've never met."

"Will you return to India?"

He shook his head. "Though I've lived in many places, Scotland has always been home. I've resigned my commission and I'm back to stay."

"It sounds wonderful," she said, unable to keep a note of envy from her voice. She had very little family.

He must have heard that because he didn't speak, just cuddled her closer. In a distant corner of her mind, she realized how improper it was to be in the lap of a man she barely knew, yet she felt as if she's known him forever.

She really should get up before she fell asleep. Soon….