Chapter 11
Storm entered camp just ahead of her men. She wanted to speak with Burke privately but he rushed at her, not giving her a chance.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
Stunned that his concern for her preempted his concern for his brother, Storm merely nodded her head.
“Make certain you have Janelle take a look at your shoulder.”
Again not a mention of his brother, his concern focused on her, and it reminded her of how Daniel used to worry over her. It was heartfelt, and the endearing thought near pierced the protective armor she kept wrapped around her.
Burke Longton was simply a considerate man, no more.
William and Malcolm entered the village supporting a man barely able to walk. Tanin followed, and they rushed to Janelle’s hut at the base of a tree where she tended the ailing and injured during the day.
Burke rushed alongside them and Storm followed, anxious to speak with him.
The man was placed gently on a makeshift bed of thatch. He had been beaten so badly that his face was indistinguishable. The rest of his body looked to have suffered the same fate, and from his woeful moans, his pain was obvious.
Storm stopped Burke from going to the man’s side with a hand to his arm. “Let Janelle see to him. We need to talk.”
He hesitated.
“It’s important,” she insisted and tugged at his arm.
“Have you eaten?” Burke asked, leaving the hut.
She shook her head, amazed that his concern for her seemed neverending.
“There’s fish at the campfire.”
He took her arm as if he thought her weary and needing help, and walked with her to the campfire, where the smell of cooked fish filled her with joy, her stomach agreeing with a rumble.
She was surprised that he hadn’t immediately demanded to know why she had taken him away from his brother.
“Your stomach sounds anxious,” Burke said.
Storm sat on the log. “It’s been almost a day since I ate.”
Burke picked the fish clean of meat and gave her a handful. She accepted it gratefully.
“Eat some,” he urged, “before you deliver the news about my brother.”
She took a small bite, but not wanting to delay the inevitable, she said, “The man we freed isn’t your brother.”
“How do you know this?”
That he hoped she was wrong was evident. “Once he knew we neared camp he admitted his name was Peter, not Cullen.”
Burke nodded knowingly. “Cullen had a chance for freedom, he feared Peter would not.”
“Exactly,” Storm said. “Peter admitted that a man had just been removed from there, though he did not know if his name was Cullen.”
“It is the only lead we have; we must follow it. Where was he taken?”
“He doesn’t know.”
Burke paced the opposite side of the campfire, then stopped abruptly. “Philip did not return with you. You left him behind to see what he could learn, didn’t you?”
Storm nodded, swallowing a piece of the delicious fish. “If the man had just been removed, his trail would be fresh. We could not lose the opportunity to follow if possible.”
“I am lucky to have found you.”
He never ceased to startle her with his generous and honest remarks.
“If not for you, I wouldn’t have made it to Dunwith, and even if I had, I doubt anyone there would have spoken to me. I am grateful for your help.”
“You are paying me a sizable fee,” she reminded him, feeling uncomfortable with his praise and turning her attention to picking the last of the meat off her fingers.
Burke suddenly plopped down on his haunches in front of her and proceeded to help her, popping the pieces he picked into her mouth. “You have been a great help, and I want you to know it.”
His actions startled her but she managed not to show her unease, though it was difficult. The tips of his fingers brushed her lips and dusted her chin of crumbs. An innocent enough gesture, and yet it produced a shivering effect she thought had died with her husband.
No one had touched her intimately since Daniel.
Storm gently pushed his hands aside. “Your generous fee requires my immediate attention.”
“My fee?” he asked, placing a hand to his heart as if wounded. “You mean you care nothing for me?”
Storm smiled, though she wondered how serious was his jest.
“I care for the plight of the defenseless. I will not abandon you or your brother in your time of need.”
“Why do you fight so relentlessly for the helpless?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“Who else fights for them?”
Burke shook his head. “Something had to have happened to make you such a staunch defender of those in need.”
“My land, my people, that’s cause enough to fight against injustice. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it yourself.”
“True enough.”
“I imagine you’ve even stepped outside the law on occasion.”
“A necessary evil,” he admitted, “as now.”
“You do realize you take your life in your hands by residing among outlaws.”
Burke shrugged. “I am not known here in your country and I do not plan on remaining here. I hope to convince Cullen to return with me.”
“No desire to remain in Scotland?” she asked, wondering why she would even think he would give credence to such a thought.
“My home is the Dakota Territory. I miss it even now.”
“I feel the same,” she admitted. “There’s no way I’d leave Scotland.”
They sat silent for a moment, both digesting their declarations and both wondering why they felt disturbed by the news.
Burke broke the silence. “When Janelle says he’s able, I’d like to speak with Peter.”
“A good idea,” Storm agreed, anxious to move away from the fact that while they were much alike, she and Burke were also worlds apart. “You may be able to learn something that might determine if the man removed from prison was your brother.”
“I thought the same myself, though I know so little of my brother,” Burke said with sorrow.
“He could resemble your father. Do you?”
Burke grinned. “My father often commented that I was spared his features and lucky to have my mother’s good looks.”
“So you have no idea what your brother looks like?”
“Not a hint, which is what makes this search all the more difficult,” he admitted.
“Difficult, but not impossible,” Storm encouraged.
“You really do enthrall me.”
“You, Mr. Longton, continually stun me.”
“My honesty can do that at times, but then at least you know who you deal with, and damn if I don’t love the way my name rolls off your tongue in that thick Scottish burr of yours.”
“Pardon if I don’t find my name sounding as titillating on your tongue. Your American accent is a bit harsh on the ears.”
He laughed and attempted to pronounce her name with a Scottish burr. It wasn’t long before they both were laughing.
“I prefer your American accent. It does less damage to my name,” Storm said after calming her laughter.
“It was worth a try,” he said and reached out his fingers to her chin.
She pulled away, uncertain of his intentions.
“No, no,” he urged, holding his hand steady. “You have a piece of fish—”
She let him dust the piece from the corner of her mouth, a light dusting as if he barely touched her, and yet he left his mark. He stirred her senses and sent a shiver through her though she concealed her reaction, remaining perfectly still.
“You haven’t known a man’s touch in some time, have you?” he asked, his hand drifting off her.
“Storm!”
She turned to see Tanin signaling her from Janelle’s hut.
“Peter must be conscious enough to speak coherently,” Storm said and stood.
“I’ll have an answer from you sooner or later,” Burke said as he walked off ahead of her.
A chill ran through her, seeping into her bones and causing her to shiver.
Was she imagining things, or did Mr. Longton seem interested in her?
She shook her head. She felt foolish for even giving the idea credence.
He was nothing more than a brash American who spoke out of turn every chance he got.
She was a woman who missed her husband and the intimacy she had shared with him. There wasn’t a night she hadn’t ached for Daniel’s touch, for his hard, warm body next to hers, for the way he held her close when they slept or the way he teased her body alive with his fingers and his lips.
Somehow, Burke had managed to spark those memories and ignite them. However, it would do her little good to feed the flame. Mr. Longton would eventually return to America. She would never see him again.
But then her life was far from conducive to finding love. Perhaps she should allow herself to enjoy a brief interlude with Burke and fill the emptiness inside her, if only temporarily.
She could make no commitment to a man or promise a future with children. More than likely she would eventually be caught, imprisoned, and perhaps put to death, or she would live out her days in the woods as an outlaw.
She had no future, a fact she accepted, so therefore she had to live life for the moment, and Burke was here for the moment.
“Storm!” Tanin called out again.
She hurried off, trying not to think about Burke.
“I did not see the man,” Storm heard Peter say upon entering the hut.
“Is there anything you can tell me about him?” Burke asked.
Storm noticed that Peter breathed slowly as if it hurt him to take the slightest breath. “Take your time,” she said, kneeling beside him.
The injured man attempted to smile and winced. “I do know he was given extra attention.”
“Treated special?” Burke asked.
“If treated worse is special,” Peter answered sadly. “His size probably helped him. He was a big man, wide with muscle and tall. He had to bend his head to enter the torture room.”
“What color was his hair?” Burke asked.
“Like yours,” Peter said with a nod to Burke.
Storm watched Burke tense.
“He was a brave one, or perhaps foolish,” Peter said. “He refused to speak, answer any questions, deny any accusations.”
“What did they accuse him of?” Storm asked.
“Stealing from the Earl of Balford. A horrendous fate awaited him is what they promised when they finally dragged him away.”
“What did he steal?’ Burke asked.
“I don’t know,” Peter said.
“You never heard him called by name?” Burke asked anxiously.
“If I did, I don’t remember. I wish I could be of more help.” A tear spilled from the corner of his swollen eye. “I am forever grateful for the rescue and am sorry to have misled you.”
“Don’t worry,” Storm said, patting his arm gently. “We would have rescued you whether you were the man we were after or not.”
The man reached out a feeble hand to Storm. “You’re the woman whispered about in the prisons. The one everyone prays will free them.”
“I do what I can for those in need.”
“You must be careful,” Peter urged. “I heard them talking about plans to capture you and make you pay for your crimes.”
“Do not worry about me.”
“No. No,” Peter protested anxiously. “You must take care. You must not meet such a horrible fate.”
Janelle stepped in, chasing everyone out, insisting that Peter had to rest and shoving clean bandages into Burke’s hands. “See to Storm.”
Storm took the bandages from Burke. “I can see to my own wound.”
Burke snatched the bandages back. “Janelle ordered me to see to it and so I shall.”
Storm grinned. “Since when do you obey a woman?”
“Since the order is no chore at all.”
They were standing beneath her tree house and in an instant, Burke had her around the waist, the rope around his arm, and they were gliding up to the treetops.
She liked the feel of his embrace. He cuddled her against him, holding her firm as if he never intended to let her go. She let her defenses down for a moment to rest her face on his chest and breathe in the scent of him, loving the pungent mix of earth and pine.
His warmth and his strength both penetrated her to the bone and filled her with a sense of peace. She hadn’t felt such peace since Daniel had last held her.
Her head snapped up along with her guard, and when they entered her quarters she said, “I can tend to my wound.”
“Better that I do it,” Burke insisted, turning the chair around for her to sit after placing the bandages on the table.
She didn’t move. “The wound is healing fine.”
“Show me,” he said, gesturing her to sit.
When she hesitated he asked, “What are you afraid of, Storm?”
“Not you, Mr. Longton,” she said, stepping almost nose to nose with him.
“Then prove it. Let me help you.”
She could not take a challenge lightly or allow this man to think she was afraid of him.
“All right, Burke, tend my wound,” she said and slipped her shirt over her head to stand bare-chested in front of him.