Chapter Nineteen
The next day’s travels were slow-going because of Alana’s injury.
Rory took care not to push her too hard or to make her feel guilty that they couldn’t move at the pace he had originally planned.
Her ankle was swollen and he kenned it ached, but she was putting on a brave front and hadn’t said a word about how uncomfortable she was.
Still, her pain was easy to see in way she clenched her jaw and sucked in her breath.
In the squint of her eyes, and the pinch of her mouth.
So, as they climbed higher, he took their forward progress slow.
He looked up to the sky, frowning. The once sunny sky had become dreary with angry, gray clouds moving in quickly. “’Tis bad weather threatening. We should seek shelter.”
Alana paused, looking around and holding her hands up. “Where exactly do ye suggest we go? There isnae a village in sight. No croft. No bothy. Just the land and us.”
As she finished her sentence, rain started to fall.
They hurried their pace, Alana crying out in pain as the rain fell so fast, so suddenly, it flooded the trail.
Causing water to stream down the path forcing them to slip and slide.
Fearful that Alana would fall again or hurt her ankle further, he pulled them off the trail.
He whipped his head around, squinting through the battering rain for an option. Nearby, he spotted a cave. “This way,” he called over the roar of the wind and rain that was so similar to the storm that had led them to the abandoned croft Alana had so despised.
Gusts of wind whipped around them as he led Alana to the cave, hurrying as fast as he dared whilst still keeping her safe.
Ducking inside the cave, Rory looked around. He wanted to make sure that they weren’t sharing it with anyone or any animal.
When he was for certs they were alone, he gathered wood for a fire. It was wet and would take a long time to dry enough but he found some dry wood under an alcove protected from the elements and grabbed that to bring back to the cave. It would be enough to start the fire and keep it going.
Alana was sitting against the cave wall when she startled him by breaking out into laughter. Loud peals of laughter that had her clutching her stomach.
He looked at her with a questioning expression on his face. Confusion furrowing his brows.
“What is it that ye find so amusing?” He asked, because he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it could be. There was naught comical about the situation they found themselves in.
“Look at us. Once again, wet from rain. This must be what, the third or fourth time we stop and are soaked through. Finding that we need to dry our clothing once again.”
It hadn’t occurred to him, but she was right. He tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “We do seem to have a knack for beckoning the rain gods.”
“Aye.” She looked around the interior of the cave. “Thank ye for finding such a spot. ’Twill for certs keep us dry until the storm passes.”
“We may be dealing with the ramifications of the storm for days to come. The trail flooded so quickly that ’twill take time for the land to dry. With yer hurt ankle, we need to take extra precautions to ensure ye dinnae wound it further.”
She stood gingerly and moved toward the fire, her limp making her amble uneven. Settling beside the flame, she pulled something out of her pocket and rubbed her fingers over the item.
“What have ye there?”
Alana met his gaze, a wistful smile on her face. “’Tis a gift from my mother. She gave it to me in the moments afore I left.” She held it up for him to take so he could inspect it.
Heather in amber. “’Tis beautiful,” he said and handed it back to her.
Rory moved to the entrance of the cave, looking outside at the rain that continued to fall in heavy sheets. He felt restless. Not wanting to talk, he paced the opening, back and forth, over and over.
When Alana looked into the fire or at her amber relic, he stole glances at her.
Letting his gaze linger. She was so beautiful sitting there.
He was for certs she had no idea the power she held in her gaze.
Hell, she could bring him to his knees with a snap of her fingers.
He would beg to do her bidding. His heart pounded with all the feelings she had awakened in him.
Feelings that would remain unspoken. They had to.
But damn if every thing she did didn’t affect him in some way. It mattered naught how wee whatever it was—the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she hummed a quiet tune when she didn’t think he could hear. Her awe at his beautiful Highlands. All of them hit him right smack in the gut.
Trying to keep his mind busy, he set to completing menial tasks. First, he sharpened his dagger and the extra he kept in his pack. He should give it to Alana so she would be able to protect herself if she ever found herself in danger.
It was a good idea. He wasn’t sure why he had not thought of it earlier. Afore they left to continue on, he would gift her his favorite dagger. The one he carried on him at all times. Its silver handle was engraved with Celtic knots that formed a cross. A ruby set in the middle.
He also hoped that when she got to her future home and was wed, she would keep the dagger and think of him whenever she looked at it.
Rory bit back his bitter laugh. He was acting like a lovesick pup.
With the daggers sharpened, he surveyed their packs, looking for rips and tears that he could repair.
There were none since most of their journey had been on ground.
It was different when he spent his time scaling the sides of mountains.
He almost always tore his packs when he climbed.
Overall, the plan to keep his mind busy and off of Alana failed miserably.
Alana noticed him staring, and he looked away quickly. “I need take care of some things.” He left the shelter of the cave and stood under the overhang. She would be safe in there without him for a while.
He looked up through the driving rain and blew out a breath.
God, he wanted her. He kenned he had no right to, but he couldn’t help it.
He couldn’t deny it any longer, no matter how many times he told himself he didn’t.
Guilt gnawed at him. Eating at his insides.
Consuming him much like thoughts of her consumed his every waking moment.
“Rory,” she called from inside. “Ye will get all wet out there. Come back inside.”
“Dinnae tell me what I should be doing,” he snapped. “I have spent many a night in the rain. ’Twillnae kill me.” He spat the words out with much more force and anger than he meant and when she flinched, misery blanketed over him. And guilt.
She didn’t deserve his ire.
He stepped into the rain and just stood there, feeling the drops soak into his tunic. The cold rain chilling his skin as it rolled down his back. But he didn’t care. He needed something to cool the insatiable heat that overtook his body when his thoughts of Alana ran rampant.
How much time he spent outside, Rory didn’t ken.
The rain had finally slowed and his body racked with shivers, but he still made no move to enter the cave again.
He’d found a fallen log to sit upon and that’s what he had done for the past few hours.
The night sky was black as velvet now. The heavy clouds blocking all signs of the moon and stars.
It was as if he were locked in stone room with no windows.
The only light offering any solace was the sliver of firelight that escaped from the entrance of the cave in the distance.
Had Alana fallen asleep yet? He hoped she had. He wouldn’t sleep again this night, and if he was going to lay awake, he didn’t want to have to try to keep up small talk with her. Though he needed to apologize for his earlier harsh reaction. He had no right to take his anger out on her.
Finally, he made his way back inside the shelter of the cave.
Creeping along quietly, he dared a peek at Alana.
She was curled up on her side, hands tucked under her cheek as she slept.
She looked so peaceful. So beautiful. What would it be like to wake up to that vision every morn?
He longed to find out, even though he shouldn’t.
He stripped out of his soaked clothing and laid them out to dry after changing into a fresh set of clothes. Lying on his blanket, he stared through the flames at Alana’s silhouette. All he wanted to do was lie next to her and soak in her warmth. To let her heat his skin. To set him aflame.
The distance betwixt them was like a curse. It hurt to be so close and not be able to touch her. But without the distance, his resolve would slip. He could feel it slipping now and the end result wouldn’t be aught that either of them would be able to walk away from unscathed.