Chapter 7

Evander waited in the courtyard, holding the reins of the two horses he’d chosen. He was determined to start and finish the journey as soon as possible. The time he’d spent waiting for May to collect her things and say her farewells to Ilyssa and Kira had only made him painfully aware that Bran and Alec were right.

He was making a mistake, insisting that he be the one to take May back to MacPherson Keep. His emotions regarding her were far too volatile, and too confused. On the one hand, he hated her for what she’d done to him, walking away without a word ten years ago. On the other hand, he’d never really gotten over his love for her. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

However, it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was see May home to her kinfolk, then immerse himself in the preparations for his wedding to Enna, and hope that the ache in his heart receded.

Finally, May emerged into the courtyard with a small pack carrying some provisions, and a blanket in case they wound up needing to spend a night in the open. They shouldn’t, but Evander wasn’t sure how closely MacPherson Keep and the roads between it and Mackintosh Castle were being watched. As a precaution, they’d be traveling cross country.

Evander swung onto his horse, and waited for May to mount her own. Fortunately for his wavering emotions and tenuous self-control, they were taking separate horses. May had the horse she’d taken from MacDonell soldiers. The animal was a good one, and would make a fine addition to the MacPherson stables.

Together, they left the castle at a brisk pace. Evander slowly guided his horse to the edge of the path and away from it, on a course that might seem like aimless wandering, but would take them into the Highlands and toward MacPherson Keep by a more direct route than the main path took. Even then, he wasn’t planning to go straight for the keep, instead intent on taking a course that would lead them on an arching path through the hills. They stood a better chance of losing any potential pursuers that way.

The clouds were beginning to come in as they left the road behind and began to cross the moorland leading to the hills. Evander tried to ignore both the clouds and the sense of familiarity.

How many times had they ridden a route like this, from his home to hers and back, and across the moors and hills between? He’d long ago lost count, even before their separation. Every step along their path whispered to him of bygone days, days when he’d been happier. When they’d been together.

He could tell May wasn’t immune to the memories and whispers either, from the way she held the reins of her horse and the tightness in her shoulders. Her eyes scanned the surrounding landscape just as his did, picking out familiar landmarks from the more lighthearted trips of a lifetime ago.

There was the meadow they’d most often used for picnics, when their meetings were short due to the duties and studies he was required to attend as his father’s son. There was a loch they’d often swum in and skipped stones across – though May was terrible at stone skipping, and often shy about swimming.

They rode across the low hills where they’d often chased each other and hunted small game over the rocks and rivulets. Every stone seemed to carry a memory, and at the same time, an uncontrollable sadness. The sights themselves were as familiar as his own body, but the innocent joy they’d experienced in those days was gone, and the absence of that peace and laughter left an ache in Evander’s heart.

It was clear from May’s expressions that she felt it too, but the heavy silence between them was such that neither one of them could find the will to break it. Evander himself had no idea what to say, and no real desire to say anything at all.

The first low grumble of thunder from the horizon startled both of them. Evander looked up to see that the clouds, originally only threatening lines on the horizon, had somehow become a solid mass above them. He took in the leaden sky, then looked around the low hills that surrounded them, gauging where they were and the distance to reach where they were headed, and grimaced. They were still a good two or three candle-marks from MacPherson Keep, and at least half that far from the nearest village.

The first drop of rain splashed cold and stinging across his face, and was quickly joined by several more. The next rumble of thunder was much closer, warning of the storm’s fast approach and growing ferocity. Looking up, Evander could see the first visible glimpses of lightning darting through the sullen clouds overhead. His gut clenched in realization.

The storm wasn’t going to be a small cloudburst, as he’d hoped when he had first seen the clouds forming earlier. Nor were they going to be able to make it to any sort of proper shelter before the storm was fully upon them. Even so, they couldn’t risk staying out in the increasingly bad weather.

They also couldn’t afford to risk laming the horses by riding them over uncertain terrain in such dangerous conditions. He scowled, then nudged his horse toward May’s so he could be heard over the rain that seemed to be increasing in intensity by the moment. “We need tae find shelter tae wait out the storm, and mayhap camp fer the night. I ken a place we can go. Should be mostly dry, safe, and even have some firewood, fer it’s been used as a shelter from the weather afore.”

May nodded her agreement, already wet and ready to trust – or at least accept – his judgment. Evander grunted and turned his horse in the right direction, then began to guide it toward the only safe haven he knew of. The destination he had in mind was really the last place he wanted to go, but even at that, it was better than remaining exposed to the elements and becoming chilled by what was steadily going from a soaking rain to a torrential downpour.

Evander bit his lip as the rain fell harder, forming silvery curtains in the air and making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. As hard as the rain’s falling, I suppose ‘tis a good thing this is a path I could ride blind in the dark o’ night if I had tae.

Soon enough, his horse’s hooves found a familiar trail, leading up into the low hills, to the mouth of an old cave he knew better than any other in the Highlands. He heard May gasp as the opening came into sight, and knew she recognized it too.

Their old trysting cave, where they’d come as youths to hold hands and steal a kiss or two, away from the watchful eyes of their kin. The cave where they’d last been together, before ten years of silence and sorrow had separated them.

Had he known of any other shelter nearby, he would have made for it rather than face the memories this place evoked. But the cave was the best shelter they would get, and at least it was dryish, and large enough for two people. With no other choice, Evander stopped his horse, then worked as fast as he could to remove his packs, the saddle, and all the tack except for a simple lead line. As soon as the horses were seen to, he scrambled into the cave, with May right behind him.

By then, the rain was coming down in heavy silver sheets, like a waterfall from heaven, and both of them were soaked to the bone. The saddles and horse blankets were scarcely in better condition, but Evander knew that the things in his packs would have fared better. His packs were treated with oil and wax to resist water, and everything in them was wrapped in a similarly treated cloth, out of habit. It often made his clothing smell like candle wax, but that was better than the alternative on a wet night.

The firewood he’d been in the habit of leaving in the cave, back when he and May met there regularly, was still there as well. To his relief, it hadn’t had a chance to grow damp, despite the heavy rains outside their shelter. He was able to start a fire with the work of a few moments, with his flint and steel, and a fire-starter of oil and wood shavings bound in wax, which he pulled from his travel pack.

He’d packed a full travel kit for himself, despite the supposed shortness of the journey, and now he was glad of the fact. In addition to his fire-building supplies, there was a spare blanket – necessary since the horse blankets were both damp – and two or three changes of spare clothing, all warm and dry, as well as some food for both of them. It was little more than dried meat, wax-wrapped cheese, and travel bread, but at least it would fill their bellies. He set the blanket close to the fire to warm, and used one of the damp horse blankets to dry off the tack so the leather wouldn’t warp from being wet. It shouldn’t as it had been weather proofed like his packs, but there was no sense in being incautious.

Once that was done, he drew out one of the dry sets of clothing, and began to strip out of his sodden garments.

May made a mortified sound as his pulled off his dripping shirt. “Evander!” her voice was high with indignation, and Evander smirked to himself.

“Aye?” He didn’t turn to face her fully, only raising an eyebrow at her over one shoulder. “The air’s chill, and I’m soaked fair through. ‘Tis only natural tae change. Ye’re welcome tae dae so as well.”

He removed his kilt too and pretended to ignore her sounds of indignant dismay as he began to unlace his riding trousers. Once the ties were undone, he slid them off his legs, and heard May make a strangled, half-choked sort of noise that might have been a protest.

He grinned, knowing well what she saw. Fighting and training kept him fit and well-muscled from heels to shoulders. His upper body was adorned with his tattoos, but underneath the ink, his muscles were sleek lines that Enna had told him showed both power and grace. A few scars dotted his frame, but none of them were disfiguring, and most of them added to the rough, near-barbaric image he’d long cultivated as the clan’s war leader.

He wasn’t quite mischievous enough to turn around to face her, at least not until he’d wrapped a kilt around his lower half, but when he did, he was gratified to see her face was a brilliant rose color that not even the firelight could rival. She stared at him, eyes wide. “Evander, ‘tis nae proper changing like that!” Her blush deepened, and he fought back the urge to snicker at her discomfort.

“There’s nae point in worrying now. And in any case, ‘tis nay other option, unless we both want tae be shivering and risking illness in our wet clothing. Even the fire willnae hold back the chill much if we’re nae dry.” He made a pointed gesture to the small blaze. “I’m nae one tae let modesty risk me health, and I didnae think ye were either.”

Her cheeks turned so dark a crimson that he feared for a minute she might faint under the combined force of indignation and embarrassment. “I dinnae have anything tae change intae. I’d only the clothes I was wearing when I was kidnapped, ye ken, and me pack isnae weatherproof like yers.”

Someone should have seen that she did have a change of clothing, and a weatherproof bag. Alec and Bran had both known the trip might last longer than an afternoon, especially if there was bad weather or they had to shake off pursuit.

There was nothing to be done about that now, but he did have a solution to her problem. Evander reached into his bag and pulled out another of the wrapped bundles of clothing. “I’ve a spare set o’ trousers and a shirt. It willnae be the best fit, but ye’ll at least be warm and dry while we wait fer the rain tae let up.”

May took the clothing, but her face remained heated, and she glared at him. “I’ll nae change while ye’re watching me, Evander Mackintosh! Turn yer back, or close yer eyes. Otherwise ye will be responsible fer me freezing tae death or catching cold.”

Evander snorted, grinning at her for a moment before he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, pretending disinterest. A moment later, he heard the sounds of wet clothing being removed, and bit the inside of his lip as sudden temptation took hold.

He’d never seen May undressed. Even when they were younger, she’d scarcely ever even rolled up her sleeves, and never above her elbows. Nor had she ever tied her skirts off much above her knees when wading or berry picking. He knew why it was so, but that didn’t stop him from wondering about the scars she’d always refused to let him see more than the barest hint of.

He heard the sound of the wet clothes falling to the ground and chanced a quick peek through his eyelashes as she bent to pull his clothing from the tightly wrapped bundle. It took every bit of control he had not to gasp aloud at what he saw.

Long, jagged scars, white with age but starkly visible against her skin, even in the low firelight. They adorned her upper arms, her shoulders, with a few across her abdomen, and her back when she turned. Here and there were irregular, ragged bite marks the same age, especially on her arms. Evander swallowed hard.

She’d told him she’d been attacked by wolves. He’d asked after seeing how skittish she was with any animal, especially hunting hounds. She’d nearly climbed a tree the one and only time he’d brought one with him for one of their meetings, and stayed white-faced and tense the whole time. He’d never brought a dog near her again, or any other animal, unless it was a game animal he had hunted, or a horse. But even knowing her story, and knowing why she was afraid, he’d never imagined the attack had been so bad. It must have been terrifying to the wee bairn she’d been at the time. Terrifying, and painful, worse than any wound he’d ever taken in combat or in training.

Perhaps another man might have scorned them. Evander was entranced. They seemed to him like a more honorable version of the tattoos he bore – marks that testified to the defense of clan and kin, regardless of the personal cost. They only added to her beauty, proof of her strength and bright spirit emblazoned on her skin like a badge of honor that could never be taken away.

Then he realized that he was in danger of being caught looking, and snapped his eyes shut again. His stomach and groin felt tight, and he concentrated on willing away the sensation while she finished dressing.

He waited until the sounds of her movement had stopped, then spoke. “Are ye done then?”

“As much as I can be, I suppose.” Her response was distinctly unhappy. He opened his eyes to see why, and nearly burst out laughing.

He was a big man, tall even among his kinfolk and had broad shoulders as well. May was not a large woman by any means, and his clothing completely engulfed her. His shirt could have been mistaken for a too-large dress on her, and she’d had to lace it tight to keep it from exposing anything she wouldn’t want exposed. As for the trousers... well, he would have told her to dispense with them entirely, save that she would be colder in the night air if she did.

She’d rolled them to cuffs at her ankles, but that didn’t do anything for the way they threatened to fall off her hips with every breath. Nor did her efforts do much to stop his sleeves from falling over her hands. Still, it was clear the trousers were the problem.

“I see the problem lass. Hold still, and I’ll see if I’ve something tae help with that.” Still grinning, Evander went to his saddle packs and dug inside. In the bottom, he found what he’d been looking for – spare saddle ties and bowstrings. The former were leather, and might chafe, but the latter were softer, and long enough to go around May’s waist if he looped two together. He’d no need for them, since he hadn’t brought his bow. They’d simply been in his pack and he hadn’t bothered to remove them, because extra strings or ties were always handy.

He removed two strings, worked them together, and brought them over to May. “Here. These should help. Hold the cloth while I slip them round ye, and ye can tighten or loosen them as ye like, after.”

He slid the strings around her waist, conscious of his fingers brushing the soft skin and the heat of her so close to him. He couldn’t help imagining his hands in place of the soft ropes as he slid them around her, and the image made his stomach clench with a desire and heat he hadn’t felt for years.

Evander slid the knots into place and pulled back, trying to control his breathing as he shifted away to give himself some room. He needed to pull himself together.

The cave was bringing back too many memories. As he turned and focused on getting out the food for them to share, he wondered if they might not have been better off out in the rain after all.