“There is no bet,” Caleb reminded him. “But I’ll be mentioned in the book, dinna fash yerself over that,” he mumbled. While he longed to be mentioned before, the last thing he wanted now was his name to be found on the pages of the Highland Chronicles, because he knew if so, it would all be bad.
Chapter 4
It was already dark by the time they made it to the Horn and Hoof. Caleb rode at the head of the traveling party purposely going faster than he knew was comfortable for Bridget. He didn’t care. She’d insulted him and he didn’t like that. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t need to even speak to her again before they got to the castle.
Caleb jumped off his horse, handing the reins to a stableboy who rushed out to greet him. The tavern also served as an inn and had a few bedchambers on the second floor. A barn out back was used to stable the horses of the travelers that remained there overnight.
“See to it that ye feed, water and brush down my horse as well as the horses of those I’m travelin’ with, Bram.” Caleb knew the boy well from being here so often. He reached into his pouch and pulled out two coins and handed them to the lad.
“Thank ye, Caleb,” said the boy, staring at the coins in his hand with a big smile on his face.
“Wait. Here’s another one,” he said, tossing one more to the lad.
“What’s this one for?” asked Bram. “Ye’ve already given me more than enough.”
“I ken, but there are five horses and it’ll be a lot of work. Plus, I’m sure Logan will want ye to keep his wolf out in the barn overnight since Auld Callum doesna like it inside the tavern.”
“Jack’s here?” The boy smiled and stretched his neck, looking for the wolf. It ran up, followed by the rest of the traveling party atop their horses.
“Jack!” exclaimed the boy, laughing and rubbing his hands through the wolf’s fur. “Did ye bring Slink as well, Caleb?”
“Of course,” said Caleb, flipping open the flap of the travel bag slung over his shoulder. His pine marten stuck its nose out and sniffed the air. Then it yawned, showing its sharp teeth.
“Caleb, ye were ridin’ so fast that my faither nearly fell off the horse,” complained Bridget, coming his way. Caleb groaned. Normally, he’d help the girl from her horse, but not tonight. Not after the way she’d threatened to slander his name in the Highland Chronicles.
“Blast it, Caleb, what was yer all-fire hurry?” growled Logan, slipping off his steed and helping his wife to dismount as well. “Did ye forget we had lassies along?”
Caleb’s eyes shot over to Bridget and, for a mere second, he thought she was going to ask him to help her dismount. She didn’t. Instead, she jumped off the horse and went over to talk to her father.
“I’ve paid Bram to tend to the horses and to watch Jack for the night,” Caleb announced. He removed his pine marten from the bag and put it on the ground to sniff around. “I’ll go tell Callum we’re here and that we need a few rooms for the night.”
“My faither and I will share a room,” Bridget called out to him. He ignored her, scooped up Slink, and hurried into the Horn and Hoof.
“Caleb, wait up.” Logan was on his heels. “What the hell’s the matter with ye?”
“I dinna ken what ye mean.”
“Ye ken very well what I mean. Did somethin’ happen between ye and Bridget?”
“Nothin’ as far as I’m concerned. We were enjoyin’ a kiss and, all of a sudden, she was threatenin’ to tell her faither to write bad things about me in that blasted book.”
“Really.” Logan burst out laughing. “Well, at least ye’d be mentioned in the Highland Chronicles like ye wanted all along.”
“That’s no’ funny,” he spat, taking a seat at a tall stool and placing Slink atop the counter.
“Och, get that weasel off my drink board!” Callum was pouring drinks and banged down the bottle, scaring the pine marten. Slink scurried across the long piece of wood and disappeared over the side, jumping to the floor. “I hope to hell ye didna bring that wolf of yers in here again, Logan,” growled the man. “I dinna want to be losin’ another chicken from my soup pot. I still have customers complainin’ about that thin broth I had to serve, thanks to ye.”
“Dinna fash yerself. Jack will stay in the barn with Bram.” Logan reached over and took the bottle and a cup and poured himself a drink.
“What are ye boys doin’ here?” asked Callum.
“We’re escortin’ the king’s chronicler and his daughter to Hermitage Castle, to record the events of the Leader of the Lairds Competition,” Caleb told him, pouring himself a drink as well. Since they were from the MacKeefe Clan, Callum allowed them to eat and drink for free.
“Rhoswen’s here, too,” Logan told him, nodding as the women and Brigham walked into the tavern. “We’ll need some rooms for the night.”
“I’ve only got two that are unoccupied,” Callum told them. “Ye’re welcome to have them.”
“That’ll be fine.” Caleb took a drink of Mountain Magic, liking the feel of the burning liquid as it traveled down his throat and to his gut. “The girls will share one room and the men will stay in the other.”
“Like hell!” Logan almost choked on his drink. “I’ve recently gotten married,” he reminded Caleb. “I’m no’ goin’ to share a room with anyone but my wife.”
“My faither and I will need our own room as well,” said Bridget from behind them, having overheard their conversation.
“Ye two take one room and Rhoswen and I will use the other.” Logan pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately on the lips, not caring that everyone was watching.
Caleb’s gaze drifted over to Bridget. Their eyes met and interlocked for a second and then they both quickly looked the other way. He cleared his throat to gain Logan’s attention.
“I think ye’re forgettin’ somethin’,” said Caleb.
“What?” Logan asked, kissing his wife again.
“What about me? Where am I goin’ to sleep?”
“No’ with us, that’s for sure,” said Logan.
Caleb’s eyes darted back over to Bridget.
She shook her head. “It would no’ be proper for ye to stay in the same room with me. I’m sorry,” she answered firmly.
“Well, I’m no’ givin’ up a pallet to sleep on one of these hard benches,” complained Caleb. “I’m tired and I need a soft bed.”
“If ye want somethin’ soft, then sleep out in the barn in the hay,” growled Callum, slapping a key to one of the rooms in Logan’s hand and handing the other to Brigham. “I dinna care where ye rest yer head, but get off the stool because ye’re takin’ up precious room for customers that actually pay. Now go!”
“Come along, Slink,” said Caleb, bending down to pick up his pine marten from the floor. “We can tell when we’re no’ wanted.” He grabbed a bottle of Mountain Magic off the counter and turned and headed for the door.
“Oh, Caleb, keep an eye on Jack for me while ye’re out there,” Logan called out to him. “And ye’d better bring him somethin’ to eat so he doesna try to make a meal out of yer weasel.”
“Slink is no’ a – och, forget it,” snapped Caleb with a wave of his hand through the air. It didn’t matter how many times he told his friends and the others that Slink wasn’t a weasel, they continued to call him that, and they would learn.
Bridget watched Caleb leave, feeling sorry for him in a way. No one should have to sleep out in the barn. That’s where the animals stayed. Still, she couldn’t allow him to share a room with her and her father either. It just wouldn’t be right. Not to mention, he might find out about their secret.
“Bridget, will you and your father join us for a bite to eat?” asked Rhoswen, holding her husband’s hand.
“There’s some fresh pottage and newly baked bread in the kitchen, so help yerself.” Callum picked up a wet rag and headed over to clean a table.
“I dinna ken,” she said, her eyes traveling over to the door. She didn’t see Caleb
take any food with him – only a bottle of Mountain Magic. Suddenly, she felt cruel toward him and that she’d been unkind and unfair. The kiss they’d shared was imbedded in her memory and part of her hoped for another one. Mayhap Caleb wasn’t that bad of a person, after all. Was he?
The entire time they ate, Bridget could barely concentrate on the small talk that was happening at the table. Instead, her focus was on the door, hoping Caleb would come back into the tavern and join them.
“Bridget?” Rhoswen stared at her from across the table. “Is something wrong?”
“Nay,” she said, faking a smile. “I’m just tired.”
“Mayhap it’s time to get some sleep.” Her father stood and so did the rest of them.
Logan stretched and yawned. “Well, Wife, I think it’s time we turn in as well.” He pulled her into his arms, making Rhoswen giggle.
“We’ll see you two in the morning,” said Rhoswen as the newlyweds hurried away and up the stairs.
“Come, Daughter. Let’s find our room.” Brigham pulled the key out and headed toward the door leading outside. Bridget ran over and took his elbow, leading him to the stairs that led to the second story of the tavern.
“I’ll be there soon,” she told him. Reaching over to a platter of food sitting on a counter, she shoved some leftover bread as well as a little dried beef into her travel bag, alongside the Highland Chronicles. “Good night, Faither, dinna wait up.”
“What?” The man stopped and turned around. “Why do ye sound as if ye’re goin’ somewhere, Bridget. What are ye up to?”
“I’m goin’ to take Caleb somethin’ to eat out in the barn,” she admitted.
“Then I’ll come with ye, lass. It’s no’ safe to be walkin’ around a place like this alone.”
Bridget didn’t want her father going with her. She needed to talk to Caleb alone so she could apologize to him. Nay, she didn’t want her father along – just in case Caleb should try to kiss her again.
“We’ll go to the room together,” she said, escorting her father up the stairs, if for no other reason than she didn’t want him to get lost. Since he did seem a little confused yet, mayhap it was better to keep an eye on him. She would wait in the room with him until he fell asleep which shouldn’t be long. Then she would sneak out to the barn and take Caleb the food.
It took hours before her father finally fell asleep and started snoring. Bridget quietly slipped off the pallet they shared, pushing her feet into her shoes. Opening the door to their room, Bridget peeked out into the corridor. The sounds of laughter and talking and lute music floated up from the tavern below. The tang of alcohol drifted by in the air. Bridget closed the door behind her with a soft thud and pulled her cloak closer, lifting her hood as well. Then, clutching the travel bag, she headed down the stairs to make her way to the barn.
* * *
Caleb lifted the bottle to his lips once more, taking another draw of Mountain Magic. He laid on his back in the hayloft above the stabled horses, staring at his pine marten that had climbed up and was sitting on a beam eating grain it stole from the chickens.
He figured Slink would be safer up here since Logan’s wolf was out on the prowl and could come back at any minute. Caleb’s stomach growled, scaring the pine marten, causing it to drop the grain and scurry across the beam overhead.
“Sorry about that, Slink,” said Caleb with a chuckle. “I didna mean to scare ye. I’m just hungrier than a wildcat on the prowl since I didna get anythin’ to eat.”
“Caleb?” He heard what sounded like a woman’s soft voice calling out his name. Shooting up to a sitting position, he watched as a hand and then someone’s head emerged at the top of the ladder that led to the loft. “Caleb, are ye up here?”
Instinctively, he reached for his sword. But his hand stilled when he saw the woman flip back her hood as she stepped off the ladder. The shutter to the large window of the loft was open and moonlight spilled in illuminating the lassie’s vibrant red locks and bright blue eyes.
“Bridget!” He sprang to his feet, dropping the bottle of whisky in the hay. “Och, nay,” he cried, not wanting to waste a drop of the liquid gold. He grabbed the bottle, corking it up before carefully placing it back down. “What are ye doin’ here, lass?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder at her. “It’s no’ safe to be out here alone at night. What are ye thinkin’?”
“I was thinkin’ ye might be hungry, so I brought ye some food.” Reaching in to the pack, she pulled out some brown bread and a piece of dried beef and held them out to him. “Besides, I’m no’ alone,” she told him. “Ye’re here with me.” She lowered her head and peeked back up at him, as if she were waiting for him to reply. A long stand of hair covered one eye in a provocative way. This was the first time he’d ever seen her hair loose. Bridget was beautiful and looked like a woman, not just the girl she portrayed herself to be. To Caleb, she looked more like a goddess.
Without thinking about it, he reached out and pushed back the stray lock of hair, the palm of his hand gently grazing over the soft skin of her cheek. The innocent action sent a rush of emotion surging through him.
Her clear, blue eyes stared up innocently at him, drawing him in like a siren of the sea. His gaze fell to her lips next, and he found himself wanting to kiss her again. Nay, he told himself. He had to stop this. It was only the Mountain Magic making him feel so attracted to her right now.
Quickly pulling back his hand, he nodded with a jerk of his head toward the hay. “Come. Sit down,” he said, reaching out and putting one hand on her shoulder to guide her in the semi-darkness to a sitting position. When they were seated, she offered him the food once more.
“Are ye hungry, Caleb? Ye left before ye had anythin’ to eat.”
“Aye, I’m starvin’,” he admitted, eagerly taking the bread in one hand and the dried beef in the other. “Slink, come here. We’ve got food,” he called out to his pet.
The little animal’s head popped up from under the hay, surprising Caleb since he still thought it was up in the rafters. Slink’s head turned as he looked back and forth, making Bridget laugh. Her giggle sounded sweet and seductive all at the same time, causing Caleb to smile. Slink reached out with his mouth and grasped the piece of dried beef from Caleb. Turning, the pine marten climbed up on Bridget’s lap to eat it.
“Slink, we were supposed to share that,” complained Caleb.
Bridget jerked backward, not sure what to think of the weasel-like animal that climbed atop her lap, using its sharps fangs to gnaw at the dried meat. “Blethers, what am I supposed to do?” she asked in surprise, her voice a breathy whisper. She held her hands in the air, with open palms to her sides, keeping them far away from the pine marten’s sharp teeth. She’d never been so close to one of these animals before, and wasn’t sure she wanted to be.
“Slink likes ye,” said Caleb, ripping off a hunk of bread with his teeth, reminding her of his pet. He continued to talk as he chewed. “Ye should feel honored. Slink doesna take kindly to most people. Ye need to pet him to show him ye like him, too.”
“Oh, nay. I could never do that!”
“I’d advise it. If no’, Slink might think of ye as a threat.”
“Or prey,” she mumbled. “All right, I’ll do it. I guess. I suppose I’m honored that he trusts me enough to sit on my lap.” Hesitantly, Bridget reached out with two fingers and ran them gently over the long, sleek back of the animal as it ate. “Caleb, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh earlier.” She spoke softly, her eyes focused on the pine marten, not wanting to look away for fear it might attack her.
“Sorry? About what?” Caleb uncorked the bottle of whisky and took a swig to wash down the bread.
“I wasna tryin’ to be mean or haughty. I just didna think it was a guid idea to share a room. My faither would no’ have approved of it.”
“I dinna see why no’.” Caleb gnawed at the crust of bread. “After all, it’s no’ like I was goin’ to try to kiss ye again. Ye would have been perfectly saf
e.”
“Really?” For some reason, disappointment coursed through her at hearing his words. She’d never expected the kiss earlier, and she’d surprised herself by enjoying it, even if she didn’t want him to know.
“It’s no’ what either of us wants, lass. To kiss, I mean.” Caleb looked up at her. “Is it?” He waited for her answer.
“I – I . . . nay of course no’.” She shooed the pine marten off her lap, brushing crumbs and hair off her gown.
“I’m sorry I ever kissed ye in the first place,” he continued. “Even if ye were pressin’ yer body up against mine, temptin’ me to do it,” he added under his breath. He turned the piece of bread over, inspecting it instead of looking at her. A big smile spread across his face and he took another swig of whisky and then offered her some.
Bridget snatched the bottle out of Caleb’s hand with such force that the liquid inside splashed out and leaked down her hand. “I fell on ye by accident,” she retorted. “And I am no’ the kind of lass that throws herself at a man, no matter what ye think.”
“I didna say ye were.”
“Ye implied it,” she answered with a sniff. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she decided strong whisky was just what she needed right now since Caleb was upsetting her. He made it sound as if she were a loose woman, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. Taking a small sip of the hellfire brew, she held it in her mouth, not sure she wanted to swallow the vile drink. It was strong and made her mouth burn as if it were on fire.
“Ye’d better spit it out.” Caleb warned her, taking the bottle away from her. “Only men can drink Mountain Magic, so dinna feel as if ye have to prove anythin’ to me.”
If this were true, then why did the fool even offer it to her? That did it! She’d only been trying to calm her emotions. But after that remark, she would drink the whisky even if it killed her to do so. She quickly swallowed, gasping, trying to breathe.
Highland Spy: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 4 Page 4
