Chapter Fourteen #2
Finally, he got a spark going. He leaned forward, blowing on the flames until they took. Then he rocked back on his heels, watching as the fire blossomed, pushing away the worst of the cold and sending flickering light through the room.
The house he’d brought them to was a modest dwelling with just this single room. An iron tripod for cooking stood to one side of the hearth and there was a straw mattress in the corner. That was it.
Cailean wondered whose house this had been. Someone who had succumbed to the sickness? Or someone who had left this village and was now holed up at Dun Mallach, safe and warm? He chose to believe the latter.
Rose edged closer to the hearth, sinking down next to him. Her teeth were chattering. He got up, pulled the blanket from the mattress, and handed it to her. She took it with a grateful nod of thanks and pulled it around her shoulders.
Cailean lowered himself to the floor, but was careful to keep a distance between them. Neither spoke and Cailean contented himself with staring into the flames, listening to their hiss and crackle as rain lashed the world outside.
“Thank you,” she murmured at last. “For coming after me.”
He didn’t know how to answer. Words felt too small for the storm still raging in his chest.
“Was it worth it?” he asked at last.
She turned her head. “What do you mean?”
His gaze flicked to hers. “Did ye find what ye came out here to find?” What you risked your life for? What you scared the seven hells out of me for?
Her gaze went distant, and she turned to look at the shuttered window, beyond which the storm raged. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “There’s something here, Cailean. Out there. Something powerful and angry. Something that wants revenge and will do anything to get it. It… it almost had me.”
There was fear in her voice, and it made him want to reach out and pull her to him, to whisper that everything would be all right.
But he held himself back. The truth was, he didn’t know if everything was going to be all right.
He hadn’t been able to promise that for a long time.
All he knew was that he would do anything, anything, to stop this woman from getting hurt.
“Why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why would ye put yer life at risk like that?”
Rose’s eyes seemed huge in her pale face, firelight dancing in their depths. Her look was raw and unguarded and Cailean saw emotions there he’d never expected to see. Self-doubt. Regret. Vulnerability.
“Because I didn’t want to let you all down,” she said at last. Her voice was barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the hiss and crackle of the flame.
“I’m a MacFinnan spellweaver, remember? I have powers others don’t.
There is a reason I was given those powers—to help those who can’t help themselves.
What good am I if I can’t even do that?” She turned to stare into the fire, hugging her knees against her chest. “I didn’t want to fail. ”
Cailean wasn’t sure how to respond. How could she think she was a failure?
How could she think that anyone would think that of her?
Yet he understood her doubts. He knew what it was like to carry the weight of expectation around your shoulders.
He knew how it felt to hold the lives of others in your hand.
It was a heavy weight to carry and Rose MacFinnan’s was heavier than anyone’s.
“I’m beginning to agree with yer sister Elise,” he said at last. “And I’ve never even met her.”
Rose looked at him. “You are?”
“Aye. Doesnae she say ye work too hard? That ye push yerself too much? She is right. And ye are too hard on yerself.” He shook his head. “Lass, ye have done more towards ending this sickness in the short time ye’ve been here than any of us have been able to do in over a year.”
“But it’s not enough, is it?” she countered. “Drew and the others are still lying comatose in the infirmary. Who knows how many more will fall sick because of my inability to figure this damned thing out? How many more will die because of my failure?”
“Lass,” he said. “Rose. Ye are not a failure.”
“Yes I am!” she yelled. “Don’t you get it? This is the only thing I’ve ever been good at! Everything else in my life is a disaster! I couldn’t even save my damned marriage! Now I’m even failing at this, the one thing in my life that I could actually do!”
She was close to tears and it almost ripped Cailean’s heart in half to see it. Dear God, did this woman believe all this? Did she really think these things about herself? Did she really not see the brave, extraordinary, brilliant woman he did?
“Ye canna save everyone,” he said quietly.
She blinked. “What?”
He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them just as she’d done. He stared into the fire, watching the flames dancing and flickering. “Ye canna save everyone,” he repeated, his voice soft. “That’s a lesson I learned the hard way.”
Rose was silent for a moment. “You mean, your wife?”
He let out a long breath. “Aye, I mean my wife.” Normally, when he thought of Mary, a hard stab of pain went through his chest and he usually changed the subject.
He didn’t like talking about her. He didn’t like thinking about her.
The pain and guilt was too much. But this time that piercing pain didn’t come.
Instead there was just a deep, dull ache, and he found he didn’t want to change the subject this time.
“I thought I could do anything,” he said.
“In my time as laird, I’d beaten off raiders from the mainland, from Ireland, from Norway.
I’d given them such a hiding that they hadnae returned to our shores for years.
I’d introduced new farming methods from the Continent and improved my people’s yields.
I’d strengthened the old alliances with Skye and Islay.
Oh, aye, I could do anything. I was Cailean MacNeil, master of all!
” He huffed out a breath, flexing his fingers where they were clasped around his knees.
“But then Mary fell ill. I brought in the best healers coin could buy. I prayed and gave offerings to the old gods and the new. I did everything I could think to do, but none of it did any good. I couldnae save her.”
“Cailean…” Rose said softly, reaching out.
He didn’t flinch from her touch, but he didn’t look at her either.
His voice was hoarse. “I carry it with me, every day. That I couldnae keep our daughter from losing her mother.” He looked down at his hands, fingers curled in tight.
“I thought being laird meant I had to save everyone. And when I couldn’t, it near destroyed me. ”
Rose’s fingers found his and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Cailean.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I dinna tell ye this in order to garner sympathy. I tell ye this because I dinna want ye to make the same mistake I did. I dinna want ye to let the weight of responsibility choke ye. Ye are not a failure, Rose MacFinnan. Dinna ever think ye are.”
A faint smile curled her lips. “You are a better man than you give yourself credit for, do you know that?”
“And ye are far braver than ye know, Rose MacFinnan.”
Their fingers were still entwined, warm against the cold of the storm. Cailean looked down at them. He had not touched another woman since his wife had died, with the exception of their one kiss. He’d closed off his heart for Catriona’s sake and for his own, unwilling to risk such hurt ever again.
But Rose MacFinnan’s fingers in his own felt right. Being in her company felt right. Here they were, trapped in a hut in the middle of a storm, both drenched to the skin, and yet he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He stroked his thumb across her hand, such a tiny, delicate touch, but it sent sparks through his blood.
Rose’s lips parted and a slow breath escaped her.
She tightened her fingers on his for a second, but in the next instant, she snatched her hand back and moved away slightly, putting more distance between them.
Cailean felt suddenly cold, despite the roaring fire. “I’m sorry, lass,” he said. “I didnae mean to—”
“It’s fine,” she said without looking at him. “Honestly, it’s fine.”
It clearly wasn’t fine. He had clearly overstepped the mark. He cursed himself for a fool. Damn it!
“Rose, listen—” he began, but she cut him off.
“You terrify me.”
Cailean blinked. “I’m sorry?”
She was still staring at the fire, hugging her knees as though trying to keep herself together. Without looking at him, she said, “When my marriage broke down, I swore I would never, ever, make the same mistake again. I would never allow myself to feel like that ever again.”
Now she did turn to look at him. “But you…” she said, and her voice was barely a breath now. “You make me feel too much, Cailean. And it terrifies me. You terrify me.”
Cailean stared at her. Was she saying what he thought she was? His heart was suddenly racing. He had to swallow a few times before he could speak.
“I swore the same,” he said, voice thick. “After Mary. But with you I feel like I’m waking up after a long winter. I dinna understand it. I dinna know what to do with it. But I canna ignore it either.”
She gazed at him and the silence between them pulsed. Then slowly, hesitantly, she reached out, her hand grazing his. The touch was light. Barely there. But it undid him.
He shifted closer, until their knees touched, and reached up to brush a strand of wet hair from her face. His thumb lingered at her cheekbone, and she leaned into his hand as if it steadied her.
He couldn’t stop himself any longer. His heart was thumping like a drum in his chest and his hand against her cheek trembled slightly.
He kissed her.
Not gently, not hesitantly—hungrily, like a dam breaking and letting loose all the pent up desire that had been building for days.
Rose responded with equal heat, rising to meet him, her hand curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.
Their mouths met again and again, the storm outside forgotten, the fire crackling loud in their ears.
Cailean broke the kiss with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against hers, trying to find his footing in the whirlwind of want and tenderness that swept through him.
“I should be angry with ye still,” he murmured, voice rough.
Rose gave a breathless, shaking laugh. “I know.”
“But I’m not,” he said. “I’m just… afraid of what comes next.”
“So am I,” she whispered. “So am I.”