A Soldier's Salvation (Highland Heartbeats Book 7)(50)
When he turned to Rodric, his smile disappeared. “We might have another two or three hours of travel at most,” he explained, pointing to the clouds which built up ahead. “It looks like this will be quite a storm.”
“And I’d so grown accustomed to riding over dry road, too,” Rodric replied with a roll of his eyes. “Well, we’re close enough to Duncan territory that we would’ve made it well before nightfall were it not for the storm. If it passes quickly, we might still be able to reach the manor house by the end of the day.”
They set out then, all of them riding with fresh determination. Knowing there was a plan in place, or at least the hope of a plan, renewed her energy and gave her confidence. Rodric thought highly of the Duncans, who she knew were a powerful clan.
If they thought as highly of him and agreed to provide support, she might just be able to escape her marriage, after all.
The thought made her smile in spite of her general discomfort. Riding for days had left her thighs with a constant ache, and the bugs which thrived in hot, humid conditions such as the ones at present swarmed incessantly around her head and that of her mare. The poor, pitiful creature snorted time and again, shaking her head almost constantly.
“I know, I know. The storm will send them away,” Caitlin murmured, patting the horse’s mane before waving her hand to shoo away another swarm of pesky insects. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, running down her back and pooling beneath her breasts. It was misery.
But she was still happy inside. Glowing, in fact. He loved her. He wanted her.
They exchanged a look, then another, as they rode abreast. It seemed they couldn’t stop glancing in the other’s direction—each time their eyes met, they would smile.
Brice and Fergus, riding in front of them, exchanged a knowing look and rolled their eyes.
Suddenly, a blast of cool wind took them all by surprise.
Caitlin shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms, the sweat which had only seconds earlier made her skin crawl turning icy. The horses whinnied, prancing in place as the four came to a brief halt.
“There’s hail in that storm,” Fergus predicted. “It’s going to be difficult going.”
“Wonderful,” Rodric groaned. “As though we needed another turn of bad luck.”
“Don’t worry,” Caitlin murmured in an attempt to soothe him. “We’ll find shelter before the storm is upon us.”
She was beginning to wonder if they would, however, as the clouds built rapidly until it seemed the entire sky was nothing more than a mass of swirling, seething darkness. The sweat-soaked tunic went cold, her teeth chattering every time the wind kicked up. All around, the trees swayed, leaves and needles being ripped from their branches.
“Damn it all!” Brice shouted, shaking his head. “This is useless!”
“Aye! We had best get off the road,” Rodric agreed, and the four of them left the road in favor of going into the woods. The wind was not as much of a challenge once they were no longer out in the open, but Caitlin shivered harder than ever.
With Brice in the lead, the horses picked their way over the soft soil between the trees. If she hadn’t been so deeply chilled, she might have enjoyed the heady aroma of rich earth and the pines which dotted the otherwise thick clusters of birch, spruce, ash.
“Are you all right?” Rodric called back, riding just ahead of her while Fergus rode behind.
“Cold, suddenly, but all right,” she replied.
“You’re not accustomed to outdoor life,” Fergus pointed out. “It will affect you more strongly than it does us.”
“Aye,” Brice agreed. “Perhaps we ought to ride ahead, Fergus and I, while you two wait here and try to stay warm.”
There was a note of laughter in his voice which she pointedly ignored, as did Rodric. They led their horses aside to allow Fergus to pass, and he rode away with his brother to search for shelter.
“Come down here.” Rodric dismounted gracefully, then held a hand out to her. She followed suit, tossing the mare’s reins over a low-hanging branch before seeking the shelter of his arms.
He was so warm, as though a fire blazed within him. He was brisk, efficient as he rubbed her arms and back. Warmth began to spread through her as though she were taking the warmth that was inside him and making it her own.
The temptation to rest her head against his chest was too great to be denied. He was firm, as unyielding as she’d imagined, the steady beating of his heart a welcome rhythm beneath her ear. His arms tightened, holding her fast, making it impossible for her to escape even if she’d wanted to.
She didn’t want to. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into the comfort of him, the scent of his skin and sweat a pleasant combination because they were his scents. They were part of him, and she loved all of him, even that which drove her to distraction.
“The rain’s begun; smell the difference in the air?” he murmured, the side of his cheek against the top of her head.
She nodded a moment before a drop of water touched her back, then another. She heard drops hitting the leaves, those drops dripping off onto the ground, the wind driving the rain above the trees and creating a soft roar which she tried hard to ignore in favor of the bliss of being in his arms.
The sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches didn’t stir her from her reverie. She assumed Brice and Fergus had returned. Only when Rodric went a still as stone did she open her eyes.