Chapter 7 #2
clear. Since it was privacy she desired, he would grant her wish.
Without a word, he began to gather fallen logs. Soon a fire blazed.
Close to the heat of the fire he prepared a pallet for her and
helped her to lie down.
When he was certain she was resting
comfortably, he stepped into the forest. A short time later he
returned to the clearing with a deer slung over his shoulders.
Following a short distance behind was the sleek form of Wolf, who
paused at the edge of the clearing, refusing to move closer.
The lass was asleep. But the remnants of
tears still glistened on her closed lashes.
* * *
At Lindsey’s fevered cry Jamie rushed to her
side and gathered her gently into his arms. While she struggled he
held her close and murmured words meant to soothe. When at last she
fell silent, he lay her back down. Her cloak had slipped from her
shoulders, revealing her torn and tattered gown. The bruises
visible on her flesh caused his stomach muscles to contract
violently.
His hand curled into a fist when he thought
of the villain who had caused her such pain. With quick, efficient
movements, he drew the cloak around her and brushed the damp hair
from her cheek. When she started to cry softly he sat beside her
and held her. She was so small, so wounded. And so damnably
independent. He felt a nearly overpowering need to protect her from
every harm.
Holding her as tenderly as a wee bairn, he
rocked her and whispered words of endearment, until at last she
fell once more into a fevered sleep.
He lay her gently upon the pallet and got to
his feet. Her tears had left damp streaks on his tunic. Absently he
ran a finger over the dampness. For long minutes he stood over her,
willing her the escape she would find in sleep. When at last he was
satisfied that her fears had momentarily subsided, he strode to the
edge of the river, where he picked a collection of herbs and
plants. Returning to the clearing, he ground them into a thick
paste, which he applied to the raw flesh of Lindsey’s hands.
As he worked he measured her small palm
against his own. How delicate were her hands, with long tapered
fingers and soft pink flesh. Not at all like his work-worn palms.
As he continued to rub the paste over her hands he felt the sexual
tug, low and deep, and fought to ignore it. Each time he touched
this woman he found himself battling desires that nearly swamped
him.
When he had finished with the ointment, he
set out to find other chores that would tax his strength. It was
important that he stay busy. Tethering the horses, he removed the
frayed reins from her mount and bent to the task of mending
them.
* * *
Clouds obscured the noon sun. A blazing fire
held the chill of the forest at bay.
Jamie returned from his foray with an armload
of logs, then stopped short. A shadow hovered beside the sleeping
Lindsey. Dropping the logs Jamie unsheathed his sword and raced to
where she lay.
Wolf lifted his head, then backed away. Jamie
felt a moment of surprise. Until now the hound had shown little
interest in humans, yet it was plain that the animal had been lying
beside Lindsey. The marks from his body were still visible in the
sand. The hound disappeared into the woods.
Jamie tossed a log on the fire, then stared
into the flames, deep in thought. Even the hound seemed to sense
the lass’s defenselessness. The wounds to Lindsey’s body were not
serious, but the damage done to her peace of mind was far worse.
Each time she slept, she battled demons, waking with a cry, ready
to fight the enemy that still stalked her in her dreams.
His musings were interrupted by the soft moan
that broke from her lips. He hurried to her side. Her eyes were
wide, frightened. As he knelt beside her she lunged at him and he
was again surprised at the strength it took to subdue her.
“Easy, lass. You are safe now,” he murmured,
as he had each time she awoke.
“Jamie?” His voice pierced her consciousness,
rousing her. “Is it you?”
“Aye.”
“That man. Argus. He is...”
“Gone, my lady. Neal and Robbie have taken
him and the others to our camp.”
“My father?”
“One of your brothers was dispatched to
notify him that you are safe.”
Safe. She repeated the word several times in
her mind to reassure herself. Then, as if a great weight had been
lifted from her, she released a long sigh and let go of the
terrible tension that had held her in its grips for the past
hours.
Jamie’s gaze trailed to the bruises on her
flesh. A string of curses rose to his throat before he swallowed
them back. Quickly he stood and forced himself to walk to the
fire.
“I have made some broth, my lady.”
He returned to her side. Keeping his tone as
gentle as possible he said, “You need to restore your strength,
Lindsey. Drink.”
She accepted the tankard from his hand. As
she drank, she felt the warmth returning, and her spirits seemed
restored.
She glanced down at her raw, torn hands,
covered with strips of moist cloth. “What is this?”
“A balm for your wounds.”
“Where did you learn the art of healing?”
“I was man-at-arms to Lady Megan MacAlpin.
She is well versed in the art of healing.”
Lindsey heard the note of affection in his
tone and experienced an immediate twinge of feeling that startled
her. Jealousy? Impossible. She cared not how many beautiful women
this Highlander had known.
Lady Megan. Jamie thought about their brief
reunion at Brice Campbell’s fortress. Megan and her Irish husband
had presented for his admiration their first-born son, Sean. The
happy couple seemed content. Content. The thought made him smile.
It had been a discontented Megan who had warned that she would
never give her heart. Yet there she was, happily married and a
proud mother.
In many ways, the lady was much like Megan,
wild, headstrong, well versed in the art of weapons and battle, yet
uncomfortable with feminine wiles. But there the similarity ended.
Megan had never known fear. While Lindsey, though fearless in
battle, seemed troubled by very real fears that, though buried
deeply, surfaced when she slept.
“Drink it. All of it,” Jamie commanded,
walking closer. Though it was not in her nature to accept such
terse commands, especially from one such as Jamie MacDonald,
Lindsey found herself obeying. When the tankard was empty, Jamie
gave a satisfied nod.
“There is fresh venison when you feel strong
enough to eat.”
He started to turn away. Instantly she caught
his sleeve. “Where do you go?”
He saw the fear leap into her eyes and said
soothingly, “I merely intended to throw another log on the fire. I
will not leave you, my lady.”
“You may leave if you please. I am not afraid
to be alone.”
He saw the way she lifted her chin. With a
half smile, he turned away. He could feel her gaze burning into him
as he walked to the fire. When he had fed the flames, he brushed
his hands on his breeches and returned to her.
“You should rest now, my lady.” He knelt
beside her and drew the cloak around her to ward off the chill.
“There is much healing power in sleep.”
She placed her hand over his to still his
movements. “I do not ask you to stay, Jamie MacDonald. If duty
calls you, or if you would return to my father’s camp, I will rest
easily alone.”
He felt a rush of heat at her touch and
fought to ignore it. The lass did not know what her simplest touch
did to him “Nay, my lady. I gave my word that I would stay with
you. We will return to camp together when you are strong enough to
ride.”
He sat down, with his back resting against
the trunk of a gnarled tree, taking great pains to see that he was
not touching her. “Sleep now. I will keep watch.”
Her lids fluttered and without any further
coaxing, she drifted into sleep.
Beside her, Jamie felt a sudden quickening of
his pulse. As he watched her, he thought about the women he had met
at the court of Queen Mary in Edinburgh. From their earliest years
they had been made aware of the many ways to please a man. Their
dress, their manner of speech, their flirtatious behavior left no
doubt as to their intentions. Yet not one of them had ever aroused
him like this artless innocent. There was a tenaciousness about her
that touched something deep inside him.
Jamie felt a sting of annoyance at the way
his thoughts continued to center around the female. He had no right
to such thoughts. He was a man on a mission. And that mission did
not include indulging his own pleasures. With a muffled oath he
turned away and closed his eyes, determined to blot out all
thought.
* * *
Lindsey awoke to a heaviness against her arm.
Her cloak was pinned firmly to her side, preventing her from
rolling over. Turning her head, she saw Jamie dozing beside her.
She felt a rush of anguish as her thoughts tumbled around.
She remembered crying out, struggling as
strong arms embraced her. In her fearful state she had relived her
worst nightmare. This was not the first time she had battled these
fears. But the attack by Argus had brought on a new round of
suffering.
With a flood of embarrassment she realized
that she may have revealed her most intimate secrets to this
stranger. And then a new thought intruded as images flooded her
mind. She had fought him. Fought like one possessed. And he had
held her with great tenderness as he sought to comfort her.
How foolish she must have seemed to one like
Jamie, accustomed to a life of danger and intrigue. How
childish.
For long minutes she lay watching him,
struggling with a warring of emotions.
A lock of shaggy hair fell across his
forehead. It was oddly appealing, and she found herself wanting to
brush it aside. She watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his
chest and found her own breathing growing rapid. She studied the
way his lashes cast dark shadows across his craggy cheeks.
Suddenly his eyes opened and she found
herself staring into those fathomless depths that always seemed to
carry a hint of danger.
“So, my lady. Do you feel rested?”
“Aye.” She felt the heat stain her cheeks and
was grateful that the canopy of trees shielded the late-afternoon
sun from his eyes. She did not want to be caught staring at this
man from such close quarters. Nor did she want him to see the
remnants of pain she suffered.
“Do you feel well enough to travel?”
“Aye.” She paused a moment to swallow. “You
must think me a whimpering child, my lord. Forgive me for my
rantings while I slept. I am not usually so foolish.”
“Foolish?” Seeing the color that flooded her
cheeks as she turned away from him, he touched a hand to her
shoulder.
Her tone had a husky quality to it. “I know
now it was you who held me while I fought and behaved in a most
uncivilized manner.”
“Lindsey.” He turned her, forcing her to meet
his dark gaze. “What you experienced at the hands of the highwaymen
would have shocked the sensibilities of any woman. I can see from
the cuts on your hands and from the bruises you sustained, how
bravely you struggled against your captors. You need make no
apology, my lady.” His tone softened until his words were barely
more than a whisper. “Even now, when I think of that man soiling
you, my blood runs hot with the need for vengeance.”
His touch, his words, were so tender, she
found herself responding despite the lingering dread.
“I thought I could escape him,” she
whispered. “In fact, I made it all the way to the horses before I
was caught.”
“Were you not bound?”
“Aye.”
“Then how did you free yourself?”
“I found several stones imbedded in the
earth. In my desperation I rubbed my hands against them until the
ropes unraveled.”
That would explain the torn flesh.
“And the leader?” Jamie’s eyes darkened. “Did
you see him?”
“Nay. My eyes were covered. He spoke only in
a strange whisper.”
“Then we must pray that your father’s men
were able to detain him when he approached them for a ransom.”
Jamie’s gaze roamed her face, still warm from
sleep, and came to rest on her lips, pursed in a little pout. Once
again he felt the tug and was forced to deny it.
With a determined effort he put some distance
between himself and the woman. In the past hours he had battled the
unsettling emotions that plagued him as he held her and offered her
comfort. The battle had left him far more weary than any battle
with sword and dirk.
“I will prepare a meal for you.”
“I have no hunger,” she protested.
“You will eat,” he said firmly. “And then we
will leave for your father’s camp.”
Lindsey watched as Jamie strode to the fire
and cut strips of venison. With food and drink her strength
returned, making her eager to take to the trail once more. She
glanced at the man who ate quickly, then prepared their horses for
the long trek. He had fought her attacker, prepared a soothing balm
for her wounds and skinned and cooked a deer for their food. Was
there anything this mysterious man could not do?
When he returned he held out his hand. “Can
you stand, my lady?”
“Aye.” Lindsey accepted his help and got
slowly to her feet. For a moment she swayed, and instantly Jamie’s
arms were around her, steadying her.
They both felt the jolt, and fought to deny
it.
“I think perhaps you need another day to
regain your strength.”
“Nay.” She pushed away from him and forced
herself to walk slowly toward her horse. With each step she felt
her confidence grow. But when she tried to pull herself into the
saddle, she did so only with great effort.
He handed her the reins. His voice was
unusually gruff. “We will ride only until dark. Then I will decide
if we will go on or make camp.”
His rough tone sounded an alarm in her mind.
She had no idea just how much of herself she had revealed to this
man during the past hours. What if, in her fevered state, she had
revealed the secret she had kept locked all these years in her
heart? Though she never spoke about it, her limp was a painful
reminder of that terrible moment in her youth. A moment that was
burned into her memory for all time.
She clamped her teeth. She must never forget
that this was, after all, the man who had warned her father that
she would slow them on their journey. And he had been proven
correct.
There must be no further display of weakness.
Else this angry giant might insist that she be returned to her home
in the Highlands. And she would never have her chance to see the
queen.