Chapter 16
Iain couldn’t understand the woman. He was sure she was as attracted to him as he was her. He was enamored by her, but his feelings for her went deeper than just wanting her physically. He enjoyed his time with her, talking to her, listening to her.
He wanted to know more about the wonderful Abigail, everything, both physically and emotionally. She was a puzzle, but she was no angel. He knew that the moment she kissed him. She had wanted that kiss as much as he had.
His body had never reacted to a woman like it did with her. His mind too seemed to turn to peat moss just at the sound of her voice.
As they worked, Iain’s gaze kept returning to Abigail. Mayhap he was too hasty; mayhap she needed more time.
He tore his gaze from her. She was right; they had more important things to see to than letting their physical attraction to one another get in the way.
He had to get to Dorpol. He had to get to his lands before the English did their worst. His sister needed him.
He’d left the weight of seeing to the keep and crofters to her for too long now.
He also had to make up his mind about Fiona MacKinnon.
If he married her, the merging of two clans could only be a good thing for his clan.
They needed strength, and the MacKinnons had that in abundance.
Standing and moving to the door, Iain said, “I thought I heard a horse neighing last night. I will see if I can find it.”
Abigail tilted her head and gazed at him with serious eyes. “I can’t ride a horse.”
“There are no horses in your land?”
“Yeah, some people, like my sisters and brother, ride them, but I don’t.”
“Dinnae fash yersel. I haven’t found one yet.”
Drinking in one last look at the beautiful lass, Iain made his way outdoors and into the sunshine. The sky was clear, and spring was quickly turning into summer. He spotted a horse nibbling on the new spring grass next to the burnt-out stables.
The horse wasn’t in the best condition, but he was strong enough to carry the two of them. He couldn’t find a usable saddle, but he found a bridle, and once he’d mended the reins, the horse was set to go.
Abigail had rolled as much food as they could carry in three blankets, and he couldn’t help leaning into her clean smell as he took the roll from her.
She didn’t seem to notice and was frowning up at the horse’s back where Iain had draped a blanket over its whithers.
Iain clasped his hands around her small waist. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
With one movement, Iain plopped her onto the horse. Iain leapt up and sat behind her. The horse moved, and Abigail let out a cry. Iain wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. “I’ll not let ye fall. Just relax and let yer body go with the horse’s movements.”
Hanging on to the horse’s mane, Abigail hissed through her teeth, “I’ll try.”
At first, she appeared to handle sitting on the horse well, but after a few miles, she kept shifting her bottom. “If you don’t stop doing that, we’ll have to stop.”
“Sorry, but my butt is really sore.”
He chuckled. He loved her way of speaking, and without thinking, he kissed her neck. “Relax.”
She stiffened, and he could have hit himself. Let her be.
They rode in silence from that point on, and by midafternoon, Iain was ready to rest.
A line of smoke plumed up into the clear sky ahead of them.
“Look,” Abigail said, pointing to the dark cloud.
“Aye.” Iain stopped the horse.
“Keep going.” She turned her head, and her blue eyes darkened in sadness. “There might be someone in trouble there.”
She was right, but if the English were responsible for the fire, they might still be there. Iain nudged the horse into a walk, ready to turn and run at the first sign of trouble.
The closer they got, an aroma drifted on the breeze into Iain’s nostrils. He had smelled that stench before. Burnt wood and supplies. The aroma was sweet and pungent at the same time.
Abigail gagged and twisted to face him. “What is that smell?”
At that moment, they rounded the bend, and Iain couldn’t keep the gasp from escaping his throat. Colin’s caravan had been attacked, and by the looks of the wreckage, the MacDonalds had lost everything.
Abigail snatched her head around. “No!”
Iain stopped the horse and dismounted. “Stay here.”
But before he’d finished speaking, Abigail had slid off the horse and stood staring at the scene, her mouth open in shock and horror. She pulled her skirt up over her mouth and nose. “No,” she whispered, and began sobbing into the material.
Iain turned her so that her back faced the carnage. He wanted to protect her from seeing the burnt-out wagons, and he had no way of knowing if anybody was killed, but they had to pass to continue their journey. He hugged her to him. “Stay here.”
She nodded, and he strode to the site. He couldn’t find any friends alive or dead, but Colin or one of his sons had struck one of the attackers down. Iain growled at the colors the murderer wore.
Abigail stopped at his side. Tears streamed down her face. “That’s one of Cumberland’s men,” she said, staring at the bloody carcass.
“Aye.”
She turned her face up to his. “Iain, they are going after all Jacobites. They mean to kill all of you.”
Iain put his hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “I cannae find any MacDonalds. Mayhap they escaped.”
Abigail brushed her tears away and beamed at Iain. “Of course, they did. They are a strong family.”
“Iain? Abigail?”
Iain turned at Mary’s voice, and Abigail was already hugging the woman.
“You’re alive,” Abigail said, moving back and gazing at Mary.
“Aye, and so too are ye.”
They laughed and hugged again as Colin walked up to them.
“How did ye get away?” Iain asked.
“Where are the others?” Abigail asked before Colin could reply.
“They are all safe. We came back to see if there was anything we could salvage.”
Iain gazed at the carnage. “I am sorry, but it doesn’t appear as if they left anything unbroken or unburned.”
“No matter. We have the horses and some supplies, enough to get us to Inverell. Will you join us?”
“No,” Mary said. “The men who did this are going there. I heard the leader, Thomas was his name, say that after they report to Inverell, he is going to Rum to find Laird MacLaren. You, Iain. He said if he can’t get you, he will have your sister.”
Abigail put her hand over her mouth and stared at Iain.
He grunted. “Thomas was always a sore loser. He will not have either me or my sister.”
Iain and Colin left Abigail and Mary there and quickly began collecting what they could find of the MacDonald’s possessions, and after hurried goodbyes, Iain held Abigail as they watched Colin and Mary disappear over the knoll.
If he was to die at the hands of the English, he would die fighting, but he had Abigail to consider. He tightened a protective arm around her waist. He would do anything to keep this angel safe, but he had to get to Dorpol and Maeve. They must get to Rum and then to the MacLaren Keep.
Abigail shifted her weight and spoke into his shoulder. “How far is Rum?”
“Weeks. The weather is warming and crossing the mountains will shorten our travel to mayhap two weeks. But we need to stay off the main roads on our way there, so that will add many days.”
She seemed to sag at his words. “That’s a long time. If my family finds me, I will be leaving you before I see your island.”
“Aye.” Iain didn’t want to think about that. He had been trying to find a way to make her stay with him but couldn’t think of one.
“I know the government army is looking for all Jacobites, but why do you think they are after you in particular?”
The memory of the shock and fury on the Cumberland knight’s face when Iain cut off his ear had him smiling. “Perhaps it’s because I sliced off one of Cumberland’s officer’s ears.”
“You what? Don’t say it again. Who?”
“Sir Thomas Sutherland. He was at Glasgow University at the same time I was, and he was always a mean one. I caught him more than once beating into one of the first-year lads.”
Iain blew out a breath at the memory. No matter how many times Iain bested the man at fisticuffs, he wouldn’t change his ways. “He is one of many traitors belonging to the Independent Highland Company. They are no more than militia, bought and paid for by the English.”
“A knight, huh? What does the knight look like?”
“He is stout in frame, vicious and bloodthirsty, and he has one ear.” He chuckled at the last.
“Isn’t he famous for hating water? If that’s true, he might stop chasing you once you set sail to Rum.”
How would she know that? Iain and his friends knew of Thomas’s fear of water, but they had known him since school. He doubted it was public knowledge. He regarded her and furrowed his brows. Did she know Thomas? Of all the strange things she had said, that was the most odd.
Iain kept his thoughts to himself and agreed. “Aye. We need to get to the nearest port and sail south to Rum. We’ll skirt Inverness and go straight west over the mountains.”
If they could gain passage, and if Cumberland’s forces stayed to the roads, they could be ahead of them by days. He had to prepare his keep and his people.