Chapter Fourteen

"Where is Calan?" Sorcha asked upon returning to camp and finding Alasdair alone. She was going to box Calan in his ears for leaving Alasdair by himself. Whether he seemed better or not, he could relapse.

"I sent him to the Campbell stronghold," Alasdair said, continuing to pack his destrier.

The news took her by surprise. "What for?"

He stopped what he was doing and turned to her. The sun shone behind him and glinted off the black hair that curled at the base of his neck. It made his hair, as well as his skin, glisten. She'd never seen a man more perfectly made than this one. "I told him to ascertain whether yer intended is a good, honorable man or nae."

For a moment, she was so surprised, words failed her. Finally, she swallowed and asked, "Why?"

His eyes brimmed suddenly with what looked like tenderness. Was she imagining it? Did he feel the pull to her that she felt to him? He let out a slow long breath. "Because I owe ye. Ye stayed by my side and cared for me when ye could have fled. I wish to ken afore I take ye to yer brother if he is wedding ye to an honorable man."

"Oh," she replied, fighting back the disappointment. "And if he's nae?"

"Then—" Alasdair motioned her to come close to him.

She walked toward him and stopped right in front of him. He surprised her by gripping her around the waist. She thought he was going to set her on the horse to travel, but he did not. They stood there face to face, his hands on her hips. The pressure of each of his fingers singed her skin and stirred desire deep in her core. His touch, in fact, was almost unbearable in its tenderness. She knew he did not mean it in any such way, but her body didn't care what her head understood.

She had never yearned for a man's touch, but she did now. She wanted his hands on her body, exploring secret areas she had only recently discovered herself. Her thoughts were sinful, and nothing would ever come of the desire, but that didn't make it any less powerful. It didn't stop her breasts from becoming full or the ache between her thighs from pulsing to life, nor her waist from tingling at his touch.

His eyes darkened as he stared at her, and she wondered if he felt even a hint of desire for her or if all his desire had been extinguished, like his love, with his wife's death.

"If Laird Campbell is nae an honorable man, then I'll nae force ye to go to yer brother's," he said, picking her up off her feet and swinging her onto the horse as if she weighed no more than a saddlebag.

Her jaw fell open at his pronouncement, and it wasn't until he mounted behind her, took up the reins and clicked the horse into motion that she had the wherewithal to order her thoughts again. "What would ye do with me? Return me home?"

"If ye wish it," he said, the inside of his powerful arms rubbing the outside of hers as he gripped the reins to guide the horse. "But if ye dunnae wish to return there, then I would give ye a home."

"At yer castle?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, nay," he said slowly, moving them into the woods and onto the trail. "Ye would have a cottage on my land, as part of my clan."

"What of the coin yer clan needs?" she asked, her cheeks burning with the foolish assumption that he'd been offering a place in his stronghold.

His legs tensed, as did his arms. "What do ye ken of my clan's needs?"

"Calan told me of the plague that wiped out yer sheep and the troubles that have followed, and that ye need coin for yer stronghold and food storage banks."

"Would ye want to return home?" he asked, and she half suspected it was to avoid her question. Mayhap he didn't even know what he'd do.

"I wanted to start an apothecary shop there at the market," she said. "So I would mayhap go home once more."

"I dunnae believe that would be wise. There will be many men still searching for ye who will be more than willing to force ye to the Stewart clan if they found ye."

"Mercenaries?" she asked.

"Aye, and yer da. If I'm nae there to remind him of his vow, he dunnae seem the sort to keep it."

She snorted at the truth of those words.

"Why an apothecary shop?" he asked her as he guided the beast up a great incline.

She stiffened as she looked over the ledge. She was terrified of heights. She always had been. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands had found his thighs, and she gripped him with all her might. She expected him to ask what she was doing or tell her to let go, but she prayed to the gods that he would say nothing. She didn't think she could loosen her fingers from her hold on his thighs even if she wanted to until they were on the downward part of the journey. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and heat consumed her. She'd experience this before, so she knew it was the fear of the heights making her body react, but knowing it changed nothing. She was having a hard time catching her breath, and her short gasps for air hit her own ears, but she could not seem to calm herself.

Suddenly, Alasdair slid an arm around her waist and pulled her backward, more securely between his thighs and against his chest. "I've got ye, lass."

She was mortified that he sensed her fear. "I'm sorry." The two words were an effort to say because her throat felt as if it had nearly closed.

"Dunnae be," he replied. His voice was soothing, making her relax against him. "We all have fears," he assured her. "'Tis nae anything to be ashamed of. Without fear, we could nae ever choose to be courageous, and choosing courage is what makes great men and women."

She felt her lips pull into a smile at the word women. This man. It seemed he was constantly proving to her that he was different. She nodded to let him know she'd heard him.

"Now," he said, his breath tickling her ear and her neck and beating back the fear clawing at her even more. "Tell me why ye wish to open an apothecary shop."

"My mama dabbled in the medicines. She would aid women in our village, and she taught me a bit, but when she became ill, there was nae anyone to help her. I watched her die, and I did nae ever forget it. I want to aid women, and a shop seemed the best way."

"My wife died in childbirth," he said, surprising her with the admission.

"I ken," she said softly.

"Calan told ye my entire life story whilst I was ill it seems."

"Nay," she said, aware of the thread of irritation she heard in his tone. "Nae yer entire history. Just enough to show me I'd judged ye too harshly."

"That's what showed ye, was it?" he teased.

Their easy banter made her even more comfortable, and she found she could loosen her fingers from the grip on his thighs, but she didn't want to. "Ye showed me as well with yer actions."

"Well, I'm glad ye dunnae think me evil any longer."

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"Dunnae be. We have both made mistakes regarding each other."

She knew his mistake was forcing her to her brother, but she also knew he was doing his best to ensure he was taking her to a man who would treat her well. "Tell me of yer children, Hew and Beatie."

"Did Calan talk of anything besides me?" Alasdair asked with a chuckle.

"Nae really," she admitted. "I'm sorry about yer wife. I ken... well, I ken it pains ye still."

"Thank ye," he replied, the words gruff.

"I'm certain she kenned," she added. "About ye having to leave during her birth."

"Aye, she understood, but she still did nae wish me to go, and it is to my everlasting regret that I did nae, for once, put her above all else."

"But ye were putting her and the entire clan above all else. Calan said yer mission that day ensured the safety of the clan."

"Aye," he said, and his body slumped a bit around her, as if talking about his wife reminded him more keenly of the guilt he carried regarding her death.

"If I were yer wife and I died, I'd nae blame ye for doing what ye had to."

He was quiet for a long moment, and the only sounds she could hear were that of the horse's clopping, and the wind whistling in her ears because of the great height. It was then that she realized her heart was no longer pounding viciously. Alasdair had managed to help her calm her fears, to beat them back.

"She spoke to me," he finally said.

"Do ye mean the day she died?" Sorcha asked, confused.

"Nay. I did nae return home until she had passed from this life. I mean when I was ill with the snake bite."

"Ah," Sorcha said, understanding. "Ye had a fever dream."

"So ye think it was in my mind?" he asked, and she could tell from his tone, he'd been asking himself that question.

"Nay," she replied. "I think when someone is near death, the barrier between this life and the next is lowered so that we can hear those we love who have passed, when before we could not hear them at all because we were so preoccupied with living."

"I like that," he replied, making her glad she'd spoken from her heart. "She did nae seem to be angry with me. She told me Hew and Beatie need me and that she was in a place where she no longer did. I'm certain I sound a fool."

"Nay," she assured him. "Ye sound wise for having listened to her. I imagine yer children will be verra glad to see ye returned whole and hearty."

His body tensed again as before, and he said slowly, "More likely they will have hardly noted my absence."

"That kinnae be true!" she exclaimed.

"It is," he replied, his tone more guarded now.

"But ye said yer wife told ye in yer fever dream that yer children needed ye."

"Aye," he replied, "but I kinnae see how. I've thought upon it since I awoke. I think they are better off without me in their lives too much. Something in me is broken, and I dunnae want to pass that on to them."

She didn't agree. Something in him might have been broken, but the mere fact that he realized it now meant he was starting to heal. She could not decide whether it was wise to say such a thing or not, and before she could make up her mind, he surprised her by announcing, "We're here."

She looked forward and gasped. An enormous stronghold rose ahead of them, and it sat atop a very tall cliff. "That's yer home?"

"Aye," he replied, the pride in his voice obvious.

"Why must it be at such great heights?" she groaned.

"Ye'll be fine," he replied with a chuckle. "Look behind ye and see the journey we just undertook together. If ye can do that, ye can do anything."

She glanced over her shoulder and felt like swooning. He'd kept her talking all while he'd wound her around the narrowest mountain ledge she'd ever seen.