“I’ve heard tales of special men who take fish from the sea, guided only by the light of the moon.”
“I’ve heard such tales as well,” Eric acknowledged, tightening his arm around her. “Unfortunately for us, I’m no one of those special men. And with that mist rolling in over the waters, I doubt even Eymer’s Thor could find fish on this night.”
As Eric said, it looked as though a cloud had descended upon the water’s surface, and not even moonlight penetrated beyond the mist.
She laid her head against his chest, willing her stomach to silence. It had been so long since she’d eaten that even Eric’s lumpy, tasteless porridge from last night sounded good right now. She was so hungry, in fact, she could swear she smelled food on the breeze.
“Close yer eyes and try to rest,” he advised. “At first light I’ll find something to fill our bellies; then we’ll return home.”
Home had such a nice ring to it.
Her eyelids were heavy, but they refused to stay shut. Tipping her head back a little, she stared up at the moon, following its light down toward the black waters where the cloudy mist had begun to lift. The moon’s light cut a path across the waves and up onto the sandy shore.
Its trail seemed to lead directly from the water to the place where they rested. The shining pathway glistened and beckoned, like a well-worn road to market, regularly traveled by masses of people. People like the one heading in their direction right now.
With a start, she jerked upright, unsettling the covers from her shoulders.
Next to her, Eric came instantly alert. “What is it?”
She’d thought she was dreaming, but that wasn’t the case.
“There.” She pointed toward the sea, toward the man who headed their direction. “Someone’s out there.”
• • •
Eric jumped to his feet and drew his sword. With no place to hide, they were at a disadvantage. He reached down and clasped Jeanne’s hand, pulling her to her feet.
“Should the need arise, mount up and ride as hard as you can. Dinna you slow and dinna you look back.”
“And leave you here alone? Oh, I don’t think so. Besides, he’s likely no threat, out here on the shore alone as he is. I’d guess it’s only our fire that draws him to us.”
Indeed, their fire gave them away like an accusing finger pointing to their location. Having a fire when they were already so exposed had been a tactical error, but he’d had no choice. Either he built the fire or he risked Jeanne succumbing to the cold.
“Whether or no,” he said, keeping his voice low and in control as he put his body in between Jeanne and the approaching man. “If I give you the word, yer to mount up and ride. I’ll no accept any argument on this point.”
She shrugged in that annoying way she had when she disagreed with him, but he hadn’t time for further discussion. As the stranger drew closer, Eric’s concern grew. He was a big man—far bigger than most—carrying something large over his shoulder.
“Oho, travelers!” the stranger called as he soon as he was close enough. “It’s good to find you out here in the wilderness.”
“Keep yer distance,” Eric called back, holding his sword in front of him. “We’ve nothing here for you. No even any food, so yer best off to just keep moving.”
“We have a fire, though,” Jeanne piped in. “We’ll gladly share that.”
“Dammit, woman!” he hissed. “Where’s yer good sense?”
The man kept coming, his booming laugh echoing around them. “Then it’s an excellent thing that I’ve found you, because I’ve food aplenty to share. And a much better campsite than yer own, too.”
When he reached them Eric could see that the man carried a bag on his back, and from the smell, it was likely fish he had inside.
“Come on,” the big man urged, kicking dirt up on their fire. “It’s not far from here, but it is well sheltered from the winds.”
“No, thank you. You be on yer way. We’ll stay where we are.”
“Eric!” Jeanne tugged at his sleeve. “Think about what you say.”
He cast a quick look in her direction but did not speak.
“Don’t be foolish, warrior. Few are given a second chance.”
In the instant Eric had turned his head toward Jeanne, the big man had somehow gotten within arm’s length of him.
“You need food and I’ve a stew on to boil. Follow along with me and once you’ve eaten, if it pleases you still, you’re welcome to take your leave of me.”
“I did smell food,” Jeanne murmured, starting off after the man as he kept walking. “It wasn’t my imagination.”
How was he to protect a woman such as this? He grabbed her arm, pulling her back to his side.
“Have you forgotten the lesson of Dobbie Caskie so soon? Had we left him along the road as I’d wanted, we’d have food of our own right now.”
Jeanne lifted her palm to his cheek, a stroke so soft he wondered for an instant if he’d imagined her touch. Then she pulled away from him.
“I willna spend my days distrusting everyone. You can stay here if you like, Eric, but I’m going with him.”
By all that was holy, Jeanne would be the death of him yet.
Chapter Nine
“I’ve never seen wee bowls such as these.” Jeanne scooped her bread into the best broth she’d ever tasted, served in a small, rounded bowl carved from wood. “This tastes wonderful.”
The big man laughed and handed a bowl to Eric, who hovered at her side, still on his feet.
“Here. Fill your belly with this. The fish will be done soon. And we need something to drink, as well.”
He pulled out three wooden cups and filled them from a large flask lying at his side.
Jeanne accepted hers and took a sip. It reminded her of the honey wine they made at home, only sweeter and thicker on the tongue, with a sharp bite as she swallowed.
“Mead?” Eric asked, sniffing the cup he’d accepted.
“The finest you’ll ever taste, warrior,” the man assured.
“Eric,” Jeanne corrected around another bite. “His name is Eric MacNicol and I am Jeanne MacGhie Horvesson of Castle MacGahan.” She could hardly believe they hadn’t yet exchanged names. Proof of how intoxicating the food was.
“So you are,” the big man said, dipping his bowl into the bubbling pot before looking up at them with a big smile. “And you may call me Halldor O’Donar.”
Jeanne returned the smile as she scooped up more of the delicious, salty broth. She liked the big man. Though she should have been intimidated by his size—he stood at least a head taller than Eric—his easy manner and ready laughter gave her comfort.
“What sets you on the road so far from home, O’Donar?” Eric asked.
“A debt of honor,” the big man answered without pause, his expression turning serious. “Keeping a promise to a friend.”
“Us as well.” The similarity only reinforced the bond Jeanne felt with Halldor. “Though ours is now fulfilled and we begin our journey on the morrow to return home.”
“Indeed.” Halldor rotated the stakes holding the fish over the fire. “I am but at the beginning of my journey. My friend has asked me to watch over his son. The lad is in dire need of guidance, as he is only at the beginning of his own dangerous path.”
“Which direction do you travel from here?”
The tone of Eric’s question made Jeanne think more of an interrogation than a visit with friends. It would seem that Eric didn’t feel the same level of comfort with their new friend as she did.
“North,” Halldor answered, his face breaking once again into a smile. “I believe our fish is done, from the smell of it. And where are my manners?” He stood and refilled their cups before taking the fish from the fire and passing a stake to each of them.
Eric finally sat down next to her.
The salty broth, though delicious, was stoking a mighty thirst. She drained the contents of her cup and held it out for more at almost the same moment Eric did.
“I’ll admit that I was wrong about Dobbie,” she said, by way of offering an olive branch. “But Halldor is altogether different. Surely you can feel that as well as I do.”
Eric arched an eyebrow and tipped back his cup.
“Who is this Dobbie?” Halldor asked.
“We met Dobbie Caskie on the side of the road as we traveled. He claimed to be headed to his mother’s people, the MacCabes, on the Isle of Skye. Jeanne here felt sorry for him and insisted that we invite him to travel with us and share what food we’d brought along.”
“He was quite young to be traveling alone and he looked so very hungry.” Jeanne shook her head. “My heart went out to the poor lad.”
“I would expect nothing less of you, my lady,” Halldor offered gallantly. “So you shared your food with the boy.”
“And the next morning,” Eric continued, “this ‘poor’ lad of hers stole one of our horses and most of our food.”
“Ah, I see. Dobbie Caskie of Skye, is it? I’ll remember that name.” Halldor nodded thoughtfully. “So it is for this reason that you were reluctant to accept my offer of hospitality. For many, trust doesn’t come easily.”
Eric looked in her direction. “And some are much too trusting for their own good.”
“Those whose hearts are open and accepting, perhaps,” Halldor agreed. “But as you can see, I’ve food aplenty and two horses that travel with me, so you’ve naught to fear in this meeting.”
Jeanne nodded vigorously, setting her world to spinning around her. That mead of Halldor’s had quite the kick.
“I have to sleep,” she said, surprised that she’d voiced the thought aloud.
“We all have a long road to travel on the morrow. You two take your rest; I’ll clean up here. No.” Halldor held up a hand to stop Eric’s protest. “See to your lady this night. Only a fool would turn down a second chance when it’s been given as a gift.”
Eric spread her blanket close to the fire, and she lay down, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.
“That’s the second time you’ve made reference to a second chance,” Eric noted, his words sounding heavy and slurred. “Am I missing something yer trying to tell me?”
Halldor’s laugh boomed before he answered. “Only that by the sun’s rise we’ll part ways, and who can know how long before we meet again?”
“If we’ll meet again,” Eric corrected, lying down next to her.
“Oh, my warrior friend, I feel sure our paths will cross again.”
Jeanne sighed and snuggled back against Eric’s warm body. His arm draped over her, possessively pulling her closer to him, and she had to force herself not to giggle with pleasure as his breathing turned to soft snores.
Thanks to their new friend, her stomach was full and her heart was light. This was one of the best nights she could remember in a long, long time.
Chapter Ten
A tickling to Jeanne’s nose awoke her. She lay still, hoping the irritation would disappear, in no hurry to move from the warm comfort of her nest of blankets.
It was not to be. As regularly as a heartbeat, something soft flitted across her nose and back again.
She lifted a hand to discover the fur under which she slept was the culprit, blown back and forth by the slow, steady breathing of her sleeping companion.
Her sleeping companion! A trill of excitement prickled deep inside, adding to her warmth.
Cracking her eyes open only the barest slit, she discovered it was still night and, from the looks of the stars overhead, it would be a good long while before the sun made an appearance for the day. Much too early for her to move from this wonderful spot.
She shifted a bit under the big arm draped across her, and turned her face toward Eric. Her nose nestled against the base of his throat and she breathed in his essence.
How many times had she lain like this, curled into his embrace, sheltered in his arms, awaiting the break of morning when they’d both have to return to their real lives, pretending their night together had never happened?
Eymer had been right all along.
No matter how she might fight the truth of it, she loved Eric. She had always loved him. Would always love him. She knew that now. Admitted it to herself. Her feelings for him were so much a part of her that there was no way she could separate them out and pack them away.
Perhaps this had been Eymer’s purpose in insisting that Eric accompany her. Even from beyond the grave, her husband was determined to prove that he knew best.
Slowly, she moved her hand up to lay it over Eric’s heart. Beneath her fingers a ragged, racing tattoo beat in his chest.
She looked up to find him watching her.
“How long has it been since I last told you how beautiful you are when you first awake?” he asked softly.
“Too long,” she returned, stretching up to meet the kiss he offered.
If only it could stay like this. If only real life didn’t dawn with the rising of the sun and turn them back into the enemies they’d become.
His lips were warm and tender against hers, his tongue insistent in its demands as he rolled her to her back beneath him. His fingers met the demands of her laces as skillfully as a master while she fumbled with his shirt like some inexperienced novice.
Her shift slipped from first one shoulder and then the other and his mouth covered her eager breast as her heart pounded in her chest until she thought it might break free of her ribs.
Her body thrummed with a sensitivity born from having waited so very long for this moment.
His touch was better than the finest liquid she’d ever drunk. Better than the best food she’d ever eaten, even at her hungriest. Even last night.
“By the saints,” she gasped, remembering that they weren’t alone. “O’Donar!” she hissed.
Eric stilled. A low, frustrated growl rolled over her skin and a moment later, his head emerged from under the covers, his gaze locking with hers.
“Bollocks,” he muttered under his breath.
She bit her bottom lip to stifle the irrational giggle forming in her throat and clutched the fur to her breast as she sat up.
O’Donar was nowhere to be seen. Neither him, nor his bedroll, nor the massive destrier that had been tied up next to Eric’s horse.
But O’Donar’s second animal remained behind, contentedly munching on the dry weeds at his feet.
“He’s gone. Why would he no stay the night in his own camp?”
“I canna say, but I’m no really surprised,” Eric answered, draping one of their blankets around her shoulders. “He as much as warned us it would be so.”
“But he left his horse and one of his packs. Surely he intends to return.”
She couldn’t imagine leaving a valuable animal behind, but it made no sense that he’d pack up his belongings if he only intended to be away from the camp for a short time.
“A loan, perhaps?” Eric rubbed a hand over his eyes. “He did say something about seeing us again, though my memories are fair muddled after drinking that mead of his.”
Her memories of the evening were slightly confused, too, as if she’d watched the events from outside their circle rather than actually participating.
“It was all very strange, do you no agree? If no for the horse, I could almost believe none of this happened.”
“It happened, true enough.” Eric tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze fixing upon her as his thumb lingered on her cheek. “All of it.”
“I suppose we should . . . what I mean to say is, do you think we . . .” Her face heated under his stroking touch and she struggled to finish her thought. “Should we prepare to leave early?”
&nb
sp; “No,” he responded, lifting his other hand to cup her face. “I think we should finish what we’ve begun.”
“I’m no sure that’s a wise path for us to take.” No matter how much she might want the same thing.
“Wise or no, it’s the one laid out for us to travel.” He reached down for her hand, clasping it between his. “I’m slow to think a thing through, Jeanne. I take overly long to look at all sides. But I’ve done that now and I realize I’d be a bigger fool than I already have been if I let you slip away from me again.”
He lifted her hand to his lips to place a kiss upon her palm. “None of what’s passed is half so important as the love we shared. The secrets you kept are of no matter. I accept the reason you chose as you did. You did what you thought best because I was too busy trying to outwit what was to come. I see now that I canna control what the future brings. But whatever that may be, I want to meet it with you at my side, as my wife.”
“Oh, Eric!” she sighed, tangling her fingers in his hair to pull his lips to meet hers.
He loved her! As he lay on his back and pulled her down on top of him, she thought her heart might burst with her happiness.
“You’ve yet to answer me, sweet Jeanne,” he breathed into her ear. “Do you want me still? Will you take me—selfish, slow, stubborn fool that I am—as yer husband? Will you agree to spend yer life at my side?”
How could he possibly doubt her answer?
“There is nothing I want more than to spend my life with you. Yes, Eric, yes. A thousand times yes.”
He rolled her to her back, swallowing her words in his kiss. With his knee, he pushed her legs apart and she welcomed him back to the spot where he belonged.
It had been such a long, long time since last he lay over her like this. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her nose into his strong, solid chest.
The hard, ready evidence of his desire pressed against her and she lifted her hips to meet his thrust.
“You are mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Just as I am yours. Now and for all time.”
He filled her, thrust after thrust, her need for him growing until the muscles in her body seized, tightening and releasing in happy little spasms that left her gasping for air.
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