A Soldier's Salvation (Highland Heartbeats Book 7)(39)

His eyes darted back and forth over her face as though to discern her real meaning, some deeper message behind her words. There was nothing for him to find. He sighed.

“I believe you’re telling yourself that because it’s what you wish to believe, but you’re wrong,” he whispered. “Caitlin, lass, I’m telling ye. Alan would make every day of your life worse than the one before. I’ve seen him, I know what he’s become. A spoiled, arrogant, unchecked glutton who will more likely than not drink or eat himself into an early grave. But not early enough to spare you the brunt of his temper.”

“I know this. My eyes are well open to the truth of what will become of me.”

“Lass, you’re speaking madness. Don’t you know it won’t bring your cousin or her husband or any of the others back if you sacrifice yourself now?”

Emotion clogged her throat, making it impossible to speak or even breathe for one endless moment. The memory of falling from the back of the first full-grown mare she’d ever ridden came back. The fall, or rather the impact with the ground, had knocked the air from her lungs and for one terrifying instant, she’d been unable to breathe. The number of thoughts which could race through a person’s mind in such a brief amount of time was staggering, really, and every one of the hundreds of panicked thoughts which had raced through hers had revolved around the certainty that she would die.

Just as she was certain she’d die here on that tree stump, looking into the face of the person she’d loved before she even knew what love between a man and a woman was. She couldn’t draw a breath, was certain she’d never be able to again. She would simply cease to exist.

But then her lungs expanded, and she drew in air still laced with the stench of death. And that stench brought her back to the grim reality of the present.

“I know that,” she whispered. “It’s not them I’m doing it for. It’s for everyone else. Everyone who might suffer or even die because of those two men. If there is a way for me to avoid their suffering, I’ll do what needs to be done.”

The very tips of her shaking fingers traced the line of his stubbled, dirt-streaked jaw before pulling back as though he burned to touch.

His eyes widened in surprise at the brief, unexpected caress. “Caitlin…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I mean, I wouldn’t want to—”

“You needn’t apologize.”

They both fell silent, as though neither knew what to say next. What was there to say? She had so many things but was not at liberty to share them—after all, she was another man’s wife.

Someone cleared their throat over her shoulder. Rodric’s eyes shifted in that direction.

“Is there a stream or river nearby?”

She turned to find Fergus standing behind her.

“It isn’t far from here,” she explained, pointing in the direction of the stream in which she’d bathed since her arrival at the farm, just beyond the point where the ground dipped away from the hill on which she sat.

The memory of those times, not long since, brought more bile to her throat. She’d killed them. It was her fault.

“I suppose we’ll wash up there before setting up camp for the evening,” Rodric suggested. “The sun’s on the descent. No sense in setting out now.”

She shivered in spite of the warmth which still hung heavy in the air. “Can we… please move away from here a bit?” she asked, wringing her hands in her lap. The very idea of sleeping so close to the site of her cousin’s murder…

“Of course,” he was quick to reply. “To be sure, lass, we won’t bed down here for the night. We’ll move further upstream, out of sight of the farm.”

“Thank you.” It was the last thing she said for a long time, until after the sun had set behind the mountains and the men had set up camp for them.

That didn’t mean her mind had stopped moving, however. It didn’t mean she’d stopped accusing herself, either.

Or that she intended to spend the evening with the four of them.





19





She’s going to run.”

Brice’s head snapped around, his eyes wide with surprise when they met Rodric’s. “What?”

“I said, she’s going to run.” He looked over his shoulder to confirm she was still a safe distance away, upwind of where he and Brice watered and fed the horses.

She was watching as Quinn arranged saddles and blankets for them to use as bedding, asking idle questions for the sake of breaking the silence.

“What gives you that idea?”

“She knows I won’t allow her to go back to Alan,” he explained. “She must, unless she’s lost touch with her sanity. No, she’ll run tonight, while we’re sleeping. I would wager my life on it.”

“We’ll sleep in shifts, then.”

“Aye, and we’ll keep watch on her whenever she tends to nature’s call,” Rodric added.

Brice snorted. “She’ll take well to that.”

“It’s no longer a matter of what she’ll take well to,” he grumbled.

His friend eyed him up, silent for a long moment before reminding him, “She’s a grown woman who knows her mind. Perhaps she’s smarter than the lot of us and knows what’s best.”