The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(78)

“Why?”

“I’d be worrying about you. Focusing on you. You make me …”

He didn’t know how to explain. Weak. Vulnerable. Words he’d never used to describe himself before.

Christ!

If she noticed his discomfort, it didn’t stop her from asking, “Make you what?”

He settled on, “Distracted.”

His answer didn’t appear to satisfy her. She wrinkled her delicately turned nose. “I’ll stay out of the way; you won’t even know I’m there.”

As if that were bloody possible. “I always know you’re there.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, not having anticipated the question.

“Aye, why do you always know I’m there? Why am I so different?”

His jaw hardened. “You know why.”

She lifted her chin in a manner that told him that she intended to be difficult about this. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

He knew what she was trying to do, damn it. But if it meant keeping her safe, he’d say whatever the hell she wanted him to. “Because I care about you. Because the thought of something happening to you makes me lose my damned mind. That’s why I don’t want you going with me.”

She smiled, and he swore it was as if the sun had just come out. “All right.”

The acquiescence had come so easily, he didn’t think he’d heard her right. “All right?”

She nodded. “And just so you know, you distract me, too.” She gave him a small smile. “I had no idea you were so romantic.”

Romantic? Him? Bloody hell! She was reading too much into this. “Janet, you don’t understand—”

She waved him off—actually waved him off. He didn’t think anyone had done that since the cook had shooed him away from the kitchen—and the freshly baked tarts—when he was a lad.

“I understand quite well. You’d better go now, before I reconsider, while I’m still agog over the poetry of ‘lose my damned mind.’ ”

His mouth twisted. She was teasing him. It was still difficult for him to believe how natural it seemed.

He should correct her and make sure she understood that this didn’t change anything, but she was right: he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to change her mind. It would have to wait. “Aye, well don’t get used to it. I’m afraid I’ve a limited supply of poetic words. I can’t think of anything that rhymes with ‘bloody.’ ”

She laughed, and the sweet sound reverberated in his chest.

“How about ‘study’? Or maybe ‘muddy’?”

He gave a sharp laugh. He should have known she’d think of something. “I’ll work on it.” He sobered, and the wry smile slid from his face. “I won’t be long. Stay out of sight. If anyone approaches, you can slip behind those rocks.”

It wasn’t a cave, but the space between the big boulders was large enough to slide between. He wished he didn’t have to leave her alone, but it couldn’t be helped. If they were going to reach the coast anytime soon, they needed a horse. He would have preferred two, but that would be much harder to explain.

His first priority—his only priority—was getting Janet to safety as quickly as possible. But he would also concede a twinge of uncertainty about his leg. Something didn’t feel right. All the climbing yesterday must have aggravated it. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to take the ointment from MacKay before they separated. Nothing appeared wrong when he’d looked at it earlier while bathing—actually, if anything the bleeding seemed to have lessened—but it had hurt like hell every time he took a step. The pain was sharp and deep—biting. And he was tired. More than he should be. The sooner Helen could look at it, the better.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “If anything goes wrong, I have my dagger.”

Although he knew better than she did how well she could use it, it didn’t exactly ease his mind to think about her needing to do so.

He nodded. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Their eyes met. His feet didn’t want to move. She looked so sweet and trusting. So beautiful and strong. He wanted to reach for her with every fiber of his being, as if it were the most natural thing to do. But he didn’t. He forced his feet to walk away.

“Ewen.” He turned. “I …” He could see some kind of turmoil on her face, and an emotion he couldn’t name. “Be careful.”

He nodded, wondering what she’d been about to say. Indeed, he seemed to be thinking about it the entire way down the hill to the village. She’d been about to tell him something. Something he suspected he didn’t want to hear, but longed to hear at the same time. His chest burned. Knowing he would only drive himself mad thinking about things that could not be, he forced his mind to the task at hand. Focus.

His plan was simple: he would offer enough money to avoid any questions. Normally when the Highland Guard needed horses in the Borders, they made use of the network of Bruce supporters in the area. Unfortunately, the loyalties of this village tucked away high in the hills of Galloway were unknown. They had supporters in Douglas, Lanarkshire, about fifteen miles away, but as that was also where they’d run into trouble earlier, he wanted to avoid the area.