Chapter 3
Callan rode to a nearby village, which wasn’t as far as he’d implied to Nora.
The chapel came into view and he passed the grounds, not sparing a thought for the souls who were buried deep within the soil.
There was a small hut located behind the chapel, the kind of place that nobody would ever have thought to look at twice.
There were clothes hanging on a wire and a loaf of bread on the window.
The scent of it drifted through the air and reached his nose.
His stomach growled. A bird flapped towards it and a rolling pin thrust out, swiping in the air.
The bird cawed, but soon gave up the battle.
There wasn’t any bird that could prove a match for Mrs. Peters’ rolling pin.
Callan knocked on the open door and strode in.
“Those bloody pests. Greedy they are, sae greedy,” Mrs. Peters said.
Ellie Peters was a middle-aged woman with a force of life that was infectious.
Her curled hair was golden blonde and she had a stocky figure, almost always wearing an apron that was dusted with flour and dough.
Her ire was calmed when she saw Callan though, and a smile appeared on her face.
She reached behind her and handed him a small fruit cake that was packed with raisins and cherries.
“Should I be afraid of yer rolling pin too?” Callan asked with a smirk.
Ellie chuckled and waved her hand in the air.
“I ken ye would nae take without asking,” she said.
“Nae from ye,” Callan said.
He took a bite of the fruit cake and felt it crumble against his lips. He caught them in his hand as the rich flavors exploded in his mouth. With his other hand he produced the coin pouch and placed it on the table.
“Here ye gae, use it for the orphans and Alastair. It’s nae as much as usual, but it’ll dae,” he said.
Ellie picked up the pouch. The smile fell from her face. She sighed heavily as she opened it, counting the coin inside.
“It’s more than enough,” she said, “but ye think I dinnae ken this?” She turned the pouch around, showing him the MacPherson sigil, a large bird with sweeping wings holding a serpent in its beak. “Ye dinnae need tae steal for us, lad.”
“The bairns need medicine and food, aye?”
“Aye,” Ellie said reluctantly.
“Besides, how dae ye ken I stole this? It might hae been given out of the kindness of a heart.”
Ellie grunted a laugh and shook her head. “Naebody who bears this hae any kindness.
“They might nae hae a heart,” she said, sinking into a chair and placing her hand around the coin. She might have shown misgivings about the way he earned the coin, but she wasn’t about to refuse it.
“I just hate the thought of ye risking yerself. Ye are flying close tae the sun, Callan.”
“I’m careful.”
“Aye, but the more ye dae things like this, the better chance there is of something gaeing wrong. And ye ken what will happen if they catch ye, aye?”
“I ken,” Callan said, swallowing another mouthful of cake. The less he thought about that, the better. “But I hae been daeing this for long enough tae ken how tae elude them.”
“Perhaps, but ye cannae keep on daeing this forever. Ye ken what they say, there are very few bandits and soldiers.”
Callan shrugged and popped the last of the cake in his mouth. He masked his deepest concerns with a practiced smirk.
“Who wants tae grow old anyway?” he said and left Ellie with a concerned look on her face.
He returned to his horse and was about to ride away, eager to put Ellie’s worries out of his mind, when Alison came towards him.
Her hips swayed and her long tawny hair flowed freely down the middle of her back.
She pinched a strand between her fingers and started circling it, while a ready smile came upon her face.
Callan’s body responded to her instinctively, tensing and tingling, with his blood starting to rush that little bit more quickly.
“Leaving without seeing me? Ye better be careful, Callan, a lass might take offense at that,” she said, raising a hand to stroke his cheek.
She touched the bruise beneath his eye and then allowed her fingers to slide down his neck, resting on his chest with the easy familiarity of a lover. Her eyes gleamed.
“Who hae ye been fighting this time?”
The excitement was clear in her voice. Alison had always been thrilled by his daring exploits, quite the opposite of Ellie.
Usually he would grin and stay. They would get little sleep, tumbling in Alison’s narrow bed until they were both shining in the afterglow of lust, but Callan was needed elsewhere.
“Oh, naebody important. But I’m afraid I cannae stay, although I promise I’ll make it up tae ye later.”
“Ye better,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
Then, to give him an idea of what he was missing, she sighed heavily and raised her arms above her head, turning to show him the full view of her buxom curves.
“But dinnae wait too long, ye ken how I hate being lonely,” she said, sauntering away.
Callan gave a low whistle and wondered if he was mad for passing up the opportunity, but he steeled himself against his desire and mounted his horse, returning to the hut where Nora awaited.
There would be time enough to celebrate with Alison later, and he knew full well that it would be worth the wait.
Nora stared at the gentle dancing flames.
They flickered and glowed in the hearth, wrapping around the logs, sometimes threatening to leap out towards her, but they always remained in the hearth.
The blanket beneath her was soft and she was glad to be able to relax.
She reached into her dress, her fingers stroking the soft skin of her breast, and pulled the silk blindfold out.
She laid it upon her lap and caressed it, thinking about Laird MacPherson and her brother.
Had word reached her intended already? At what point would he realize that she was not merely delayed, but that her arrival had been disrupted indefinitely?
Would he devote his resources to finding her, or would he simply find another bride? If so, what would her brother think?
Should she take herself to the MacPherson Keep, or should she return home?
There were so many questions and not nearly enough answers.
She glanced around at this unfamiliar hut and gripped the blindfold tightly, wishing that she could take everything in her stride like Callan did.
She supposed it wasn’t his life in the balance though, nor did he have a clan’s worth of people relying on her marriage to afford them protection and prosperity.
It was so frustrating being unable to do anything.
All her life things had been out of her control.
Her parents had died without any means for her to defend them.
Her brother had slipped into ill-virtue, indulging all his vices at the expense of the clan.
Now she couldn’t even leave this hut, for the woods were deemed too dangerous for her.
She almost screamed, but that wouldn’t have made any difference either.
There was something to be envied about Callan’s life.
He lived by his own rules and his own means, depending on nobody else, answering to nobody else.
It must have been liberating, albeit lonely.
She thought of him spending starlit nights in the hut, sleeping alone, the blanket draped haphazardly across his body.
Nora steeled herself against the thoughts that invaded her mind.
Her skin was growing warm and she told herself that she should move away from the fire.
She angled her body away, but the heat did not dissipate.
Nora put her hands through her hair and tugged at her scalp, knowing that she shouldn’t have been thinking about him like this.
Not only was he a stranger, but she had been promised to another. It wasn’t noble. It wasn’t ladylike. These were the kinds of thoughts ladies of ill repute had.
Oh, how her parents would have been so disappointed!
No, it was only because she had been through an ordeal.
It had been such a long day, with an arduous journey, unending anguish, and then an attack from cowardly bandits that haunted the Highlands.
No wonder her mind was frayed. No wonder she was prone to these wicked thoughts.
The blindfold was pulled tight between her hands, so taut it almost ripped apart.
Then she heard the movement of a horse nearby and she stiffened.
Callan hadn’t left on a horse. Breath caught in her throat as she searched for a weapon.
The only one that presented itself was a fiery log, but to wield it she would have had to thrust her hand into the fire.
Her fingers twitched, but she could not move quickly enough as the door opened.
“Get out!” she screamed, the words so raw they cut her throat.
“Ye cannae tell a man tae get out of his own home,” Callan said, far too casually for her liking.
He swanned in as though he didn’t have a care in the world. How different their days had been. How strange it was that two such different creatures had been thrown together in the tumultuous whirl of life.
Nora clung to the arms of the chair and leaned forward, gazing at Callan with a frantic look in her eyes.
“Did ye see them?” she gasped.
Callan shook his head and poured himself some water. “It’s as I thought, they’re nae around. They hae probably found an inn somewhere tae spend their coin.”
“And what about the hunters? Did ye find them? Are they gaeing tae help us?”
He set the cup down and wiped the remnants of water away from his lips with the back of his sleeve.
“Ach, I’m afraid nae, lass. I could nae find any of them. That’s the thing with hunters, we dinnae like tae make ourselves easily found. But I’ll look again taemorrow. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. Best that we rest now,” he said, and came to warm his hands by the fire.
Nora dipped her head, unhappy about the situation, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
“Sae then, lass, it occurs tae me that while I ken yer name, I dinnae ken who ye are and what ye mean tae people. Ye must be someone of importance tae travel in a carriage like that, and tae hae yer own guard nae less!”
“I’m naebody special,” Nora said with a crestfallen look on her face as she turned back to the fire.
“I dinnae think that’s true. Ye must be special tae someone,” Callan pressed.
Nora sighed and supposed it wouldn’t do any harm to tell him. She was going to have to fill the silence somehow.
“I told ye my name is Nora Sinclair. My brother is Laird of the Sinclair Clan, and I hae been promised in marriage tae Laird MacPherson. I was on my way tae the Keep, and I must reach the Keep. I’m sure the Laird will be angry and worried.”
Callan’s expression darkened as though night had just fallen across his face.
“If ye are special tae him, then I pity ye,” he said in a rasping, cracked voice.
Nora stared at his face intently. The fire illuminated the hollow of his eyes and his sharp cheekbones. The flames were reflected in his eyes, giving her the sense that the fire entered his soul and burned from within.
“I ken he dinnae hae the most favorable reputation, but—”
A loud, dry laugh pierced the air. Callan threw his head back, but there was no hint of amusement on his face.
“That is one way tae put it. Dinnae ye ken about the man? He lives on his estates while his people starve tae pay for them. How much land can one man hae? How many estates does one man need? It’s pure, unbridled greed,” he spat, his words laced with venom and bitterness that took Nora aback.
So far Callan’s mood had been carefree and easy to the point that it concerned her, but now his hackles were raised.
“I dinnae ken if that’s fair. He is the Laird after all and if he deems it necessary tae hae many estates, well, I’m sure he hae a good reason,” Nora said, feeling the need to come to the defense of her betrothed.
Perhaps it was a response to the thoughts she’d had of Callan in his bed, arm draped over his bare chest, the blanket placed strategically over the potent parts of his body.
“It’s bad enough ye are marrying him, let alone apologizing for him.
How can ye possibly defend him while he moves from estate tae estate, feeding his belly on grand feasts while ordinary people starve?
” The words erupted in a volcanic burst of bitterness.
He stood ramrod straight, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Nora dipped her head, feeling cowed.
“Clearly ye ken more about the situation than me. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn,” she mumbled.
Callan turned his attention back to the fire and exhaled deeply.
“I suppose it’s nae yer fault. Ye are just another victim,” he muttered.
Then, Nora’s stomach growled so loudly it was audible above the crackling fire. She clutched her arms around herself and turned away, embarrassed. Unfortunately, Callan heard the noise and turned to her.
“Ach, I’m sorry, lass. It’s probably the last thing ye want tae hear taeday.
Ye hae been through a lot, and I hae nae even offered ye anything tae eat.
I’ll take ye tae the village in the morning, but if guards come looking for ye then I might be in trouble.
I hope ye speak well on my behalf and let them ken I rescued ye,” he said, wagging his finger through the air.
Then, he took his bow and declared that he would catch them something to eat.
The meal was not as filling as the feasts she was used to having at home, but her hunger abated and the growling stopped. Callan insisted that she take his bed for the night while he slept on the floor.
Nora pulled the blanket over her and tried not to think that this was the bed where Callan slept, that her skin was touching the same fabric that cloaked his bare flesh.
The bed was warm, and she wondered if it was imbued by the heat emanating from his body.
When she breathed in she caught a hint of his scent.
It rolled through her like a summer wind, stirring up all manner of sensations that she didn’t quite understand.
Thankfully, she did not have to endure these thoughts for too long as she fell asleep quickly, hoping the following day would be far more straightforward and her wayward path would be righted.