He glanced down to find her sitting, palms forward, her chin on bent knees, and her eyes softly closed. In the flickering firelight she looked beautiful. No wonder Dalziel wanted her and wouldn’t let her go without a fight. She looked content. Nothing like a woman who’d just lost her father and who was running away from her betrothed and his son.
‘Nae. ’Tis only a small fire. The heat is wondrous.’ She wiggled her fingers and tilted her head to one side, as if a thought took her by surprise. ‘I still remember the flickering red and white and yellow and blue flames in the fire pit where my mother rendered tallow. When she wasn’t instructing me on what to do, she’d hum as she worked and glance up with a smile.’ She swallowed. ‘Her face is fading from my memory.’ Twin ruts appeared between her brows. ‘I wonder if I had watched her more often, her face would have stayed more clear in my mind for longer.’
‘When did you last see your mother?’ Cal had been four and could see his mother as clearly as if she stood before him now.
‘The last time I saw her clearly, the last time I saw anything at all clearly, was thirteen summers ago.’ She tipped her head back to the centre. ‘My mother and my unborn baby brother died when I was ten.’
Cal drew a long breath. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Sorry for her loss of sight, for her mother, her brother and now her father. He had no clue who his father was and had no siblings he was aware of. His mother was an uncertain dream he continued chasing; his eyes absorbed everything his gaze set upon and he was free to marry if he chose to or not. Her losses made his uncertainties and wanting seem trivial. He’d lost nothing. She’d lost everything.
He hadn’t wanted to know anything about Isla. He’d made a promise and that promise just happened to concern Isla. The task he’d believed he’d complete in a matter of days would take longer. That simple promise had become anything but simple.
Cal looked away from where she sat, her hands now busy unravelling her single braid.
‘Isla.’
‘Aye.’
He didn’t need to look at her. He could well imagine her sitting up straighter at the calling of her name, waiting for him to say more, her chestnut hair loose and curling dry over her exposed shoulders.
‘Tell me about Dalziel.’ Knowing more about her betrothed would help Cal understand what lengths the man would go to. Talking about Dalziel would also help to distract him while they waited out the storm.
‘I dinnae ken Dalziel very well. He and Father were great friends when they were lads, but I learned later that the rivalry for Mother’s hand caused a rift between them.’
Cal understood it must have been difficult for both men, but Dalziel had lost both the woman and his friend.
‘Dalziel was a fisherman and was often away. I once heard my mother comment on his love of the sea, and I remember wondering if his absences played a part in her choosing father.’ She paused as if the question still had her wondering. ‘I wasn’t born until four years after they wed, but my first clear memory of Dalziel was when I was three. He came to visit in the dead of night. It was the night of first footing, and he was the first to set foot inside our cottage after midnight. He brought a lump of coal, salt, whiskey and delicious shortbread, and having a head of dark hair ensured our home was blessed with good luck.’ Cal knew the old Scottish tradition well. ‘He also brought his new wife and his six-year-old son, Morgan. His first wife had died one year before. His second wife never smiled. Nor did Morgan.’
Cal did look at her then and found her sitting with her delicate chin poking the air and two lines carving the space between her brows.
‘Have you always lived in Aberdeen?’ He was curious to know, but mostly he wanted to erase the lines of strain from her beautiful face.
‘Aye.’ Her chin slowly lowered to hover above her knees. ‘But after my mother and brother died, my sight worsened every day. Father thought it best that I didn’t venture away from home.’
Cal straightened and the cold wet fabric of his shirt shifted and chilled a new place on his skin. Reaching into his sack, he retrieved the spare, but before he removed the one he wore, he gave Isla his back, despite knowing she couldn’t see him bare his chest.
‘This is the first time you’ve left?’
‘Aye, and I cannae see any of it.’
Chapter 7
Isla sat as still as stone, wondering if she’d spoken those words out loud. She hoped not. She needed him to escort her to the priory, but the last thing she wanted was his pity. The small fire warming her suddenly lost its heat. She shuddered, and tightening her arms about her knees, she pulled them into her chest. Pressed them against the place where her heart once leapt with joy, pounded with excitement and overflowed with love for her parents, for every day, for life. So long ago.
She should be content. She had much when others had little. She’d lost her sight but could hear the flames crackling as they feasted on the peat. Heard the crack of thunder overhead and wondered if it had rent the sky in two. She had strong legs to take her where she wanted to go. Arms and hands and fingers to feel and discover things she couldn’t see. She had her voice and could talk and make conversation about the weather or anything she fancied. Speaking to another was one thing she’d missed the most. Her father was a man of few words and when he’d gone to the leper house, aside from Sorcha’s two stolen visits, she’d had no one to talk to other than herself.
‘Isla?’
She flinched at the low voice speaking her name. How long had she been absent with her painful thoughts? ‘I have often wondered why I live when others with more to offer, more to give have died.’ She worried her lip, surprised she’d voiced the question that had been haunting her for far too long. She waited, hoping Callum had an answer.
‘There is a reason you live, Isla. I hope you soon come to learn why.’
She waited for him to say more, and in the interim heard no rumbling of thunder. ‘Has the storm passed?’ She was pleased at the steadiness of her tone. She was done sitting idle. Doing nothing made it far easier for her losses and numbing memories to flare to life in her mind.
‘Almost. We’ll wait for the rain to stop and should make it a little further south before dawn.’
When they’d again need to hide and wait for dark to fall before continuing on. Wait an entire day with nothing to do to keep her hands busy and to occupy her thoughts. She shivered and reached for the warmth with her palms.
Quiet. A gentle rain fell over the roof above. Footfalls, light, precise. Nothing wasted. Two quick clicking cracks. The same noise her bones made when she’d been in the same position for too long. A flare of heat. Her fingers drank it in and the tingling chill that followed rushed through her whole body, bursting from her toes and the top of her head, and left her pleasantly warmed.
‘Did ye find what ye were looking for at the leper house?’ She directed her question to the other side of the growing fire. Silence. She hadn’t heard any sounds of him moving away after crouching opposite and feeding the flames. She knew he was still there, for along with the shelter and the fire, there was a feeling of being watched over. She felt protected and the awful emptiness of being without company, of being fully alone, didn’t hang above her and no longer gouged a hollow inside her.
Why did he not answer? Was her question too personal, too filled with pain?
‘Forgive me. I dinnae mean to pry. I just … it has been some time since I shared a conversation with another and I remember ye saying ye’d gone to the leper house and were searching for something and—’
‘Nae.’
* * *
Invisible hands settled their heavy weight on Cal’s shoulders and pressed downward. He placed the fisted knuckles of one hand on the earthen floor to counter the imaginary pressure and looked into the flames. He’d found the same frustration, the same confusion he’d found at every almshouse, Bede House and spital he’d visited and often stayed at during the last year. Faces, alight with courage, leaching hope and fixed in
death that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life, but he hadn’t found the one that haunted his waking hours.
Blue eyes turning grey when clouds filled the sky. Smiling eyes that crinkled at the corners and lips that curved high.
Cal closed his eyes tight and squeezed the smiling face from his mind. He’d found naught but more stone crosses, more death and now a promise he must fulfil.
He opened his eyes to find Isla, her pale face upturned and waiting, as if she expected him to share his thoughts. His thoughts were his and he was a man of few words, while she hadn’t spoken with anyone for some time. She lowered her chin to her knees as if her thoughts weighed her down.
‘I am searching for a stone cross I stood in front of when I was a lad.’ Abrupt and without feeling, the words fell from his mouth.
Her face tilted upward and her tongue slipped out briefly to moisten her lips. ‘How long have ye been searching?’
Cal drew a deep breath, disturbing the flames as he released it. ‘Almost a year.’ But he’d been wondering for many more.
Watching her worry her bottom lip with her teeth proved she agreed a year was a long time. ‘Where have ye searched?’
‘Everywhere.’ He’d scoured the west coast, the Isles, the north and back down through the centre. ‘All that remains is the east coast between here and the Borders.’ Her chin lifted higher.
‘Is that where yer from? The Borders?’
‘Aye.’
‘What is it like there?’
Cal stilled, struggling to find the words to describe where he lived. The faces of many who resided within Castle Redheugh’s walls suddenly paraded through his mind. ‘’Tis home. The hall is crowded. You’ll nae find better than the laird and his lady. The clansmen and women are brave and loyal. Our English neighbours steal our prized cattle and we steal them back.’
He glanced up to find Isla, half an ear turned toward him and a small smile curving her lips. ‘Ye live in a castle?’ She sounded breathless.
‘Aye.’
She hushed out a sigh. ‘I’ve always wanted to see a castle.’
Her fingers suddenly clenched into balled fists as if surprised by what she’d just said. As if she’d just discovered she’d never see a castle.
‘’Tis a small castle and naught to brag about.’ Cal frowned at the falseness of his words. He loved Castle Redheugh. It was the only home he’d ever known.
‘Why do ye search for the cross?’
‘The cross is one of the few memories I have of my mother.’
‘Ye lost yer mother?’
Or she lost me. ‘Aye.’ He’d said enough. Too much.
‘Perhaps ye will find the stone cross ye’ve been looking for on yer journey home.’
‘I’m done searching.’ He was done finding naught but disappointment.
Her fingers opened and she sat upright on his saddle. ‘Ye cannae give up.’
He already had. Cal stood.
‘’Tis said there are several stone crosses along the east coast.’
Cal stared down at the woman who’d lost everything and wondered why she’d survived, but who refused to allow him to give up. If they rode by any crosses as they travelled, he’d certainly take a look, but he wouldn’t journey out of their way for any of them. His gaze settled on the dwindling flames, and in that moment he realised the rain had stopped. How long ago? How much time had he wasted talking when they could now be closer to the priory and fulfilling his promise?
* * *
Cal constantly scanned their surroundings as they continued riding south along the undulating road. He held Mungo at a brisk walking pace as the storm had left the ground soggy and the stones slippery. He saw no one.
Sleep dragged at Isla. She fought against it, so much so that Cal felt he was fighting right along with her. She’d sink against him, but moments later she’d jerk awake, stealing the warmth from his body as she sat straight and tall before him, only to succumb to sleep soon after, settling against his chest once more.
She’d finally fallen into a deep sleep some time ago, her body relaxing into his, as if she was melting. Cal drew a long slow breath, rain-washed and refreshing, but the clean air failed to banish the feeling of contentment flowing through him at having Isla nestled against the front of his body. He liked the feel of her there and his arms were continually tempted to close about her and pull her closer. Her recently dried chestnut hair smelt more strongly of lavender than of wood smoke, but unlike those he’d cared for in his travels, the scent failed to calm him. With every thought, another muscle tightened.
He was tired. He hadn’t slept for days. His weariness was the cause of all the unfamiliar feelings and foolish thoughts he was presently experiencing. With a few solid hours of undisturbed slumber, he’d be back to thinking clearly and feeling as he normally did.
Lost.
Another foolish thought inspired by his lack of sleep. He wasn’t lost. He was taking Isla to the priory, then would return north to Braemar to meet up with Duff and Adair. They’d all travel back to Castle Redheugh together and then he … and then …
Cal withheld a groan of frustration and dragged one hand over his face and around the back of his neck. He’d think about the and then when he’d had some sleep, or better yet when he arrived at that point in time.
The moon was fast sinking in the west, which meant he needed to find them somewhere safe where they could stay out of sight throughout the light of day. Somewhere sheltered where Isla would be safe while he slept, even for an hour or two. Somewhere he could purchase something for them and for Mungo to eat. He didn’t know the area they were riding through, but he’d find somewhere for them and he’d have to find it soon.
The night was swiftly losing its darkness. They rode up out of one of the many shallow valleys that made up the Causey Mounth and crested a slight rise to discover the wooded area on his right thinned to more open lands, dotted with black lumps Cal took to be shrubs. He looked to the more open and sparsely treed meadows on his left and that’s when a horse’s whinny carried on the breeze.
Mungo’s head jerked upright and his ears pricked forward, letting Cal know he’d heard it too. He slowed his mount to a walk and rested his free hand about the hilt of the dagger at his waist. The warm body moulded to the front of his stirred awake.
‘Sshh. Stay quiet,’ he said softly in her ear as she straightened.
She nodded and as he studied the darkness ahead, he felt some of the initial tension claiming her body when he’d first spoken ease. She had little choice other than to trust him, but the knowledge that she did made him impossibly more aware of her every movement. So much so he had to fight to keep his concentration fixed on the shades of dark shadows around them and not on her every breath and how deep each inhalation was, or how softly she exhaled and precisely where her body pressed more firmly into his when she did.
Sweet God. He really did need sleep and some physical distance between them.
They crested the next small rise and a light in the distance to their left shone like a beacon. Cal narrowed his gaze and with the moon’s dipping glow he made out a large long structure with another behind.
‘Can ye see anyone?’ Isla whispered.
‘Nae.’ Sound travelled for miles so he lowered his mouth close by her ear and whispered. ‘There are two large buildings ahead on the left, but other than a single lantern out front, I’ve seen nae movement.’
She nodded and once again Cal was struck by how difficult it must be to not be able to see anything and to have to rely on another to find out what was happening around you.
Her tiny hitch of breath alerted him that she was about to say something.
‘It could be the Jeally Branns Inn,’ she said on an excited whisper. ‘Father had spoken of stopping there once or twice many years ago.’
Cal studied the inn as a plan formed in his mind. ‘It’s almost dawn. Are you hungry?’
‘A little.’
‘Then we will take
a room and stay here until dark.’
She nodded and relaxed against his chest once more. Cal gave Mungo a gentle prod with his knees to pick up the pace. He still had some coin left and the inn was the perfect place for Isla to remain safe while he found some sleep.
Leaning down, setting his mouth close to her ear once more, he said, ‘If anyone should ask, we are husband and wife travelling to Edinburgh to visit relatives and were caught out in the storm. Dinnae say anything. I’ll do the talking.’
She nodded again and Cal was surprised at how quickly the thought of playing Isla’s husband had come to him. He stared at the woman in his arms as a chill feeling of loneliness swept over him, knowing it could never be a true marriage. Isla had chosen to do God’s work and he had chosen to be celibate, to never have a family of his own.
Chapter 8
Pretend to be his wife?
She’d once dreamed of marrying, but as her sight worsened she’d never thought a man might truly want her for herself. Marriage to Dalziel would be for all the wrong reasons and she refused to wed him. But memories of her family in happier times had created a longing for a family of her own. Once she reached the priory, such longings would be futile. Once she reached the priory, she’d never see Callum again. Isla swallowed and sat up straighter in the saddle.
‘Nae, relax against me.’
A powerful arm slipped around her middle and pulled her close. She swallowed again and sank into the solid heat at her back. Sandalwood infused her senses. The beast beneath them altered direction and then slowed. She lifted her lashes but doing so shed no light on where they were or if anyone was watching them. She closed her eyes and listened but heard naught other than the clip-clop of Mungo’s hooves change to a muted thud as they travelled from cobbled stones to well-trodden earth. The strong beat of Callum’s heart drummed between her shoulders and eased her uncertainty.
The Saint Page 7
