by Nicole Locke
‘He may be English, but we’ll probably meet more along the way. I’d rather have one, who says he’ll help and has already proven himself, then someone who—’
She stopped. Flora had started crying again. She suddenly felt like crying, too. ‘I’m so sorry, Flora. To all of you, but I think this is something we have to do.’
She reached into her satchel, but didn’t feel anything. She yanked her arm out of the satchel, adjusted Maisie on her hip, flipped the satchel upside down and shook it. Empty and Alec was nowhere in sight.
‘Alec, where did you hide Maisie’s oatcakes?’
* * *
She left Maisie with Flora and walked down to the lake. She was done feeding Maisie, but Robert had not returned. She could wait no longer. Now that she had come to a decision, she was anxious to move.
She found him by the shore. His arms were stretched above his head as he pulled on his tunic. She glimpsed sun-bronzed skin before he tugged the tunic over his abdomen. His hair and beard were wet, but his clothing dry. Her heart skipped as she realised he had been naked mere moments before she reached the top of the hill.
She refused to think why her heart skipped. Or why her mouth went dry at the barest glimpse of his bare skin.
‘You bathe?’ she asked when she was close enough.
‘I swim.’ He shrugged. ‘It helps me think.’
She had never known of a man to swim before. While her brothers Caird and Malcolm were taken to rushing into the Firth of Clyde, her older brother, Bram, unless he was courting, could hardly be bothered.
No, this man was like no other she had ever known. Her reaction to him was testament to that. She’d seen her brothers undressed too many times to count. Yet she was curious about Robert, in a way she didn’t completely understand.
‘I did some thinking, too,’ she said. ‘The children agreed you can take us to the village.’
He started to walk past her.
She raised her hand to stop him. ‘Wait. I have some ideas how this trip is to go.’
He was silent, except she thought she saw his eyebrows rise.
‘I do nae want you thinking you can dictate how this journey should go.’
His eyebrows rose a bit more, but he said nothing. Which was good. If he so much as smirked or got any twinkle in his eyes, she’d tell him to jump into the lake he had just left.
‘I do not like to be bullied, bossed, ordered, directed, or given strong suggestions by any kae-witted arrogant man.’ She counted each point on her fingers. ‘I expect to be treated fairly and with respect in this venture. If you deserve it, I will treat you with respect.’
His mouth curved at the corner. ‘This trip is for respect, is it? I thought you asked me for your safety.’
She ignored his sarcasm and the curve to his mouth. ‘As to that, I’m nae certain. I hardly know you or what your motivations are.’
‘You asked me to help you. Are you changing your mind?’
She thought she saw his eyebrows rise even more, but she couldn’t be sure now because they were so far up to his hairline she couldn’t see them.
‘Aye, I asked you,’ she answered. ‘But I wonder now in the broad light of day why you accepted.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe it is guilt.’
It wasn’t guilt. She’d tried to use that before to make him feel remorse and he hadn’t budged. ‘If it is, that story goes so far as to burying the dead. It does not apply to your taking one woman and four children into enemy country.’
‘We are not declared enemies.’
‘But we are and you know it. Doona go thinking I have nae noticed your fancy warhorse and numerous weapons. You are one of King Edward’s soldiers and you’ve probably spilt Scottish blood.’
Seeing his eyebrows again, she knew she’d guessed correctly. Again, she was reminded he was like a river with unfathomable depths. She had to remember no matter if he helped, she did not know who he was or where his loyalties lay.
‘I did not think it mattered who I was,’ he said.
She couldn’t believe she was thinking of travelling with such a man, but what choice did she have? This Englishman was God’s answer to her wish for help. She was no fool to refuse it.
‘Aye, maybe so,’ she said. ‘Whatever your story is I do not want to know. I just want your word you’ll keep us safe from others and yourself.’
His eyes were unreadable. ‘You have my word.’
She picked up a clod of dirt and held it out to him. He stared at it. ‘Aren’t you taking it?’ she asked, exasperated.
‘Isn’t taking of the earth meant to seal a change of land ownership?’
‘Aye, it is. But you’re on Scottish land now, Robert of Dent. Once you start travelling these hills and see the green forests, the bonny bluebells, the play of sun against the dark blue waters, you’ll be wanting ownership of Scots land. I’m just giving you a bit as a gift. To show some trust.’
He continued to stare at it. She stepped closer to him, moving her hand closer to him. ‘’Tis a goodwill gesture, you spongy, rude, neep-heided—’
He stepped forward and roughly pushed the dirt out of her hands. ‘We need no trust between us and I want no gift. I do what is necessary and that is all. Once we reach the nearest village and purchase the supplies, I will be gone. It is best you remember that.’
Stunned at his sudden change of demeanour, she watched him walk away. He had gone as cold as the Clyde in winter. She tried to breathe through what his rejection had done to her heart.
His rejection should not have been anywhere near her heart. But everything seemed to be too close to that delicate region lately. It was the only explanation why this man, who was English and angry and hairy, held any fascination for her.
She had honestly meant some token of goodwill towards him when she’d offered him the Scottish dirt. Then he’d rejected her. Again.
So he didn’t trust her. Fair enough. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t trust him. She was a Colquhoun and their motto was ‘If I can’.
She already trusted him by allowing him anywhere near her and the children. And she’d go on doing it despite what he wanted.
Chapter Ten
By day, the morning mist was denser and the clouds weighed heavily on Robert. He was used to his English rain and even Wales had heavy mist. But he would have sworn Scottish clouds were evil spirits soaking his clothes.
Yet it was not the mist demanding his attention. It was the woman who had not stopped talking since they broke camp.
‘I doona see the point of this martyrdom you assume. Despite your opinions, I will not ride the entire way there. You can’t intend to walk the entire way to the next village, either. If you do, you’ll collapse of fatigue before we are halfway there. Then what use would you be?’
‘Then you’ll have my horse, which will not be tired because I did not ride it.’
He could not see past the white birch trees with their tender green leaves. The forest they walked through was well spaced and allowed the horses to walk side by side, but he couldn’t see beyond the trees and every instinct in his body was on alert, tense, trying to allow his hearing to see what his eyes could not. But it was impossible.
‘Your horse!’ Gaira exclaimed. ‘You nae fool me. This horse of yours could be carrying me, Maisie, Alec and you in a full suit of armour and still not be the slightest winded.’
‘He is too young and ill trained.’ Although he had noticed Gaira was not having any difficulty handling the temperamental creature. Having Alec and Maisie in the saddle with her did not even trouble her.
‘Hmmph.’
‘Perhaps he’d be fine,’ he conceded. ‘But your ankle needs to heal.’ He walked around a cluster of trees and emerged in front of the horses again. ‘My intention is not to walk the e
ntire way there. I am sure this route you insist we take is the quickest route to a village. As soon as we are there, we’ll buy supplies and a horse.’
‘And how exactly are we to be purchasing these? We have nothing to barter.’
‘I have silver coin, Gaira,’ Robert replied. She had to have heard it around his waist.
‘Scottish, too?’
Robert almost stumbled. Bartering and English silver were more common. But he did have Scottish. In a separate pouch too heavy for him to carry; too much a burden to be reminded of. Enough to pay for a destroyed village. ‘Some,’ he answered.
‘Can I keep him?’ Alec interrupted excitedly.
Gaira turned her attention to the boy holding on behind her. ‘Can you keep what?’
‘The horse he’s buying. Can it be mine? I’ve always wanted a horse.’
Creighton’s horse snorted abruptly. Robert looked to see Creighton’s tight grip on the reins. Flora put a hand on her brother’s shoulder.
‘I...I do nae think Sir Robert means for us to keep the horse, Alec.’ Flora’s soft voice carried on the mist. ‘I believe his intention is to procure it so that we may ride easier to Gaira’s home.’
‘Our home now, Flora, doona forget that,’ Gaira interjected. ‘It’ll be home for all of us very soon. But you’re quite right. ’Tis Robert’s horse and his decision what to do with it.’
‘I don’t see why the new horse cannot be for the children’s use,’ Robert said, ‘providing we can find a horse. I’ll have no use for it once I return to England.’
He slowed his pace so he could now see Gaira’s surprise, anger, irritation and frustration all at once. He didn’t think anyone could actually feel, let alone express, so much emotion at the same time.
‘Ach, now, we doona need any more of your generosity,’ she retorted.
‘It is hardly generous,’ Robert pointed out. ‘You will be bringing four mouths to feed—they should come with their own horse. It is a gift for them.’
Gaira made a sound of utter disbelief.
‘Think of my convenience. The horse will probably be too tame and more suited for children than soldiers. What need have I for such a creature?’
She didn’t say anything.
‘So you accept?’ he prodded, although he already knew the answer.
‘Ach, now, I can hardly refuse such a gift since you seem to be giving it to the children and not to me.’
‘We get to keep it! We get to keep it!’ shouted Alec.
‘Alec, sit still or you’ll fall off,’ Gaira ordered.
Robert stopped and turned, allowing the horses to pass him. He could not see anything except the trail they left in the thick blades of grass and bluebells. Every instinct in him told him to get to the edge of the forest, but Gaira had instructed the way to the nearest village was through the trees, not around them. Not knowing the way himself, he could only agree, but he didn’t like it. If this was the trail north, it was the least travelled trail he’d ever seen.
‘Where are we going?’ Alec asked.
‘Eventually, we’ll be at Auntie Gaira’s home,’ Flora said, patience lacing each word.
Robert was surprised she had any. He had lost count how many times the boy had asked the same question. He walked to the head of the horses again.
‘Why?’ Alec asked.
‘Because I want you to meet my brothers,’ Gaira said, her voice cheerful. ‘You remember my telling of my brothers. There’s Bram, the red, and there’s Caird, the not so red, and Malcolm, the dark.’
Gaira launched into further description, but having heard the story, Robert let Gaira’s voice fade into the background. She kept a running commentary to the children all morning long and they seemed to enjoy it.
If he reported he had travelled with a woman who talked of one subject, then another and was never quiet, his men would have been horrified. But he didn’t mind. Her accent was musical and he found it almost peaceful, as if by her voice alone she kept his troubled thoughts at bay.
It was just another reason why he wanted to get her to the village and leave her as soon as possible.
She interrupted her own dialogue. ‘Robert, we need to rest.’
‘We just left.’ He didn’t look back.
‘That was hours ago and the children have needs.’
He did not stop walking, but glanced over his shoulder. The children avoided his eyes. ‘They look fine to me. We keep going.’
She stopped his horse. ‘They are children, not soldiers, and they need to rest.’
This trip was taking too long. He had told Hugh he would return within a day or two, not weeks. ‘We will rest at midday.’
‘They will never make it.’
He grabbed her bridle and gave it a slight pull. The horse shied. He never had trouble with horses. The fact this one gave him even the slightest grief and none to her irritated him. He pulled harder on the reins and the horse stepped forward.
He ignored Gaira’s set expression. Satisfied, he turned his back. He would brook no more delays. He’d help her, but on his own terms. Not hers.
He took only two steps before Gaira called, ‘Do you want Maisie to wet your horse?’
‘Horse!’ shouted Maisie.
Gaira tried not to laugh at Robert’s sudden stopping and she tried equally as hard not to let her triumph show as he released her reins and walked to Flora and Creighton. Creighton refused his help, but Flora, her hand trembling violently, laid one hand in his.
When he got Flora down safely, he returned to her. She could now see his face, his lips pressed, his shoulders set.
She gently dislodged Maisie as Robert reached up. He held Maisie out from him, her entire weight suspended by his arms alone.
Maisie didn’t seem to mind. Her large eyes were absorbing him and drool escaped down her four fingers and across her chin.
Robert glanced to his left and right, trying to find a safe place to put her.
Gaira’s laughed escaped before she could clamp her lips together. ‘You doona hold her that way.’
He took a couple of steps away from the horse and set Maisie down. Then he patted her shoulders as if that would keep her feet firmly entrenched. He turned back to Gaira, but she watched as Maisie, her steps unsure, followed Robert.
Gaira pointed at Maisie. ‘You’ve got to give her to Flora or Creighton. She’ll just keep following you.’
He frowned. ‘It’s not safe for her to be so near the horse,’ he said.
‘She doesn’t know that. She just sees you and probably thinks nae more of the horses. Their legs are nothing but tall sticks to her now.’
‘She should be instructed otherwise.’
‘Not much around children, are you?’
‘I’ve seen them before.’ He picked up Maisie, who had clumsily grabbed the back of his legs.
‘Seeing them and taking care of them is not quite the same thing,’ she pointed out.
He handed Maisie to Flora and returned to dislodge Alec, who still clutched Gaira’s waist.
Once free of the horse, he held Alec out so that the boy’s weight dangled in mid-air. Alec’s giggles erupted as he started to kick and swing his legs before he even hit the ground. When he did, he scampered out into the trees, doing circles around them like a bee in a rose bush.
‘You doona hold them like that, either.’ Gaira dismounted and took Maisie from Flora.
‘I’m not concerned about how to hold them. My duty was to get them to the ground.’
Gaira walked away from the children and began to undress and clean Maisie.
‘Aye, but there’s a world of difference between just getting them from point to point.’ She raised her voice to be heard. ‘’Tis how you get them there that’s the good part.’
Finished, Gaira straightened Maisie’s clothes before picking her up and placing her on her hip. Gaira relished the warm chubby body pressed into her side.
Robert was rubbing down the horses. The horses weren’t winded, but she suspected it was part of his training and his care was very telling of the kind of man he was.
‘You could be good with them, you know. It just takes practice.’
He didn’t look at her. ‘What takes practice?’
‘Caring for the children.’
‘I’m not caring for the children.’
‘Ach, now. ’Tis not much different from your taking care of the horses. They need food, drink, rest, a tender hand.’
He stopped rubbing and looked at her across the horse’s back. ‘I’m not caring for the children. My duty is to get you to the next village. I’ll help you there and I’ll help with the food, but nothing else.’
She stopped moving towards him. ‘Why are you here?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You agreed to help us.’
‘Aye,’ he said.
She noted he hesitated. Good, he should be wary. She was tired, scared, angry and grieving. She didn’t want to add frustrated to the list.
‘If you’re going to help us, you need to help us in every way. None of this reluctant churlish wanwitty behaviour.’
His mouth curved. ‘Does every Scottish lass talk as you do?’
She noticed how his partial smile softened his eyes. ‘Ach, now, doona be changing the subject. I’ll have you helping with the children or you can just hightail it back to your weedy England.’
He glanced at Maisie still in her arms. ‘I am a soldier, not a father, and as soon as we reach the next village, I will be gone.’
She walked around the horse. When she was near enough, she moved Maisie from her hip and pressed her against Robert’s chest. His arms remained at his side.
She grabbed his arm, placed it under Maisie’s bottom and adjusted her. She quickly stepped away and gave a swift silent prayer when he held her.
‘Aye, but until then, this will do,’ she said.
She watched his stiff body adjust and gave another prayer at Maisie’s cooperation. Walking quickly to her satchel, she pulled out an oatcake and handed it to him.
