Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3)

by Dawn Marie Hamilton

  She attempted to hold the knife as directed.

  “Not exactly. Here, let me help.” He dropped the knife he held onto the blanket then stepped in close from behind, placing a hand on her left hip. He leaned in tight, hard chest pressed against her back. He smelled good—of fresh air and woodland. She felt the definition of each of his muscles and had to suppress a sigh. He grasped her right wrist, and her pulse spiked. “Loosen your grip, lass. Aye, like that.”

  Easy for him to say. His breath whished over her ear, causing delicious shivers to spread. Her breasts felt heavy, nipples beaded. She wanted to forget the knife and spin around and kiss him. But the children were watching. And she wasn’t sure Stephen wanted her advances. He’d kept a metaphorical distance between them for the past few days. Until now.

  “Plant your right foot like so…” He released her hand and gripped her thigh. Ripples of sensation tingled up her leg, making her sex clench. Making her needy. Making her want to reach back and take Stephen into her hand. He seemed unaffected. “Point your toes toward the target. Good. You will throw the knife, following through with your back foot to provide more power.”

  She released the knife. The effort fell short of its mark. Stephen stepped away, taking his warmth with him, yet leaving her hot and bothered.

  “Let me demonstrate.” He grabbed the knife from the blanket, stressed each step as he went through the motions, and threw. The knife sailed through the air in a blur. The blade imbedded in the target with a twang.

  The children clapped.

  “Easy for you,” Jillian groused.

  “You can master knife throwing, too.” He retrieved the blades and handed her one. “Now, move through the steps with me.”

  “Okay.” Though she’d rather have him up close and personal again.

  “The trick is to get the knife to tumble, blade over handle, so it doesn’t bounce off the target but enters soft flesh.”

  “I don’t think I can throw a knife at a real person.”

  “What if one of the bairns is threatened?”

  Jillian glanced at the children and frowned. Brow furrowed tight. He knew her weakness. She would do anything required to protect the kids or protect Stephen. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “That is a good lass.”

  He moved her closer to the target. She threw again. She kept at it until her arm ached with the repetitive motion, but not once did she hit the mark. One more throw. If she missed the target, she was giving up. She repeated the steps and threw. The weapon fell way short of the target again.

  “Grrr. Told you I couldn’t do this.”

  Stephen chuckled. “Have faith. We will practice each afternoon after we make camp and finish our eve’n meal.”

  “If you think we must.”

  “I do.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  Stephen didn’t ken why he’d planted the impulsive kiss on Jillian. Her bemused smile tore at his resolve to keep her at a distance. Being close to her and inhaling her feminine scent while instructing her near made him forget the need to temper his desire. ’Twas proving difficult to stay detached from the lass.

  Jillian dropped onto the log next to the bairns. Moisture pricked the back of Stephen’s eyes. These three were becoming important to him. He wished he could keep them.

  “Darkness is upon us.” His voice sounded gruff so he cleared his throat. “Duff and I will alternate keeping watch.”

  The lad perked up at the announcement, eager to help.

  “I can take a turn,” Jillian offered, but exhaustion surrounded her eyes.

  “Nae need.”

  “You require sleep more than I do since you are still healing from your wounds.”

  “Mayhap another night. For now, Duff and I will see the task done. Come, lad, let us walk the perimeter of camp to ensure all is secure and plan our defense.”

  They checked on the horses then found a raised spot from which they could observe anyone approaching the small campsite.

  “Can I take the first watch?” Duff pleaded.

  “Aye. I will stay with you. Wake me when you grow tired.” Stephen hunkered down on a scattering of pine needles, huddling into his plaide for warmth. Duff did the same, but kept a sharp eye. Stephen gave the lad his trust and slept. Duff shook him awake near dawn.

  Stephen cracked his neck with a twist. “You should have awakened me sooner. You will be too tired to ride.”

  The lad shrugged then yawned.

  “Go. Join Jillian and Keita. Get some sleep.” Stephen sent the lad off. When the sun rose over the horizon, he tended the horses and rekindled the fire.

  The previous night, Jillian had found a leaf-strewn spot close to the fire to cushion the large bedroll. She and the children were cuddled under several plaides and her strange future cloth. He scratched the itch at the back of his neck and pursed his lips. Though the silver cloth provided extra warmth ’twould be best to destroy the thing before a zealous stranger saw it and mistook it as the work of Satan.

  Stephen sighed. He’d need to speak to Jillian when she woke and convince her of such. She wouldn’t be happy to give up another possession.

  * * *

  How dare Prince Dugaid interfere? With fae horses, Jillian and Stephen would travel the far distance to Castle Lachlan and the Sithichean Sluaigh in half the normal time.

  Caitrina wanted them to spend more time together not less. They needed a chance to fall in love.

  Caitrina shed the glamour of a Gray Woman, smooth skin replacing that of the wrinkled hag. Thick auburn hair replaced stringy gray. Drab garments disappeared, and she ran a sensitive touch over the much preferred, gauzy, green silk dress that molded to her tall, slender frame. She retrieved a gold brooch intricately crafted with thistle designs and amethyst gemstones from a hidden pocket and secured it at the shoulder of the green and purple tartan sash, interwoven with shimmering golden threads, draping the gown.

  She fisted her hands, allowing free rein to her anger, almost missing the subtle change of vibration tainting the air. Evil skulked nearby. Not the darkest evil of hell yet evil just the same. Fading into invisibility, she traversed chambers and passages to the land-side mouth of the caves opening high on the hill. She caught the scent and followed the foul smell.

  Dammit! Maclay stalked the three lost bairns—Blaney, Mack, and Cam. What would he want with the lads?

  Malcolm Maclay hesitated behind a broad oak. The three misshapen lads scurried through the wood, making nary a sound. Yet Malcolm was known as a gifted tracker and able to move as silently. He easily followed their serpentine wanderings.

  Caitrina hovered behind him. Should she intervene? She’d need be careful and not interfere with freewill.

  “Damn eerie place,” he muttered and rubbed the back of his neck, darting a glance over a shoulder. “Have the lost bairns stolen a bauble from the Gray Women? Mayhap, I can snatch the trinket to use in trade.”

  The man was in desperate need of resources. Of that she was sure.

  Malcolm stalked to the next large tree. She stayed with him. Protection magic hummed over her skin. Oonagh. The bairns must have hidden something of import for the Queen of the Fae to conceal it within spell magic. Jillian’s things?

  Why would the queen protect Jillian’s things?

  The rustle of brush brought her attention back to the bairns. First one lad, then the second, lunged into a tight thicket of bushes and small trees. The third—the pudgy bairn with the deformed right hand—used his left to drag a fir bough over their tracks. Then he, too, disappeared from sight.

  “There it is!” Malcolm snickered. “The changelings hidey-hole.”

  He glanced at the branches above. ’Twould be the perfect place from which to wait for the bairns to head off again. Although the tree leaves had long ago fallen, chances were slim the lads would notice Malcolm high up in the branches. He climbed the tree and secured a spot at the crook of a fat limb, enfolded his upper body within the excess drape of his plaide for warmth agains
t the chill breeze, and watched.

  She would wait, too. Caitrina settled on another branch.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Several days into the trip, Jillian woke and shared with the others a breakfast of dry oatcakes, apples, and cheese. Ugh. Again. Stephen passed around a skin of heather ale. Afterward, as Jillian packed the saddlebags, Keita tugged on her skirt. She peered down at the little girl. “What is it, sweet pea?”

  The child stared bug-eyed as if astonished by the endearment, and then smiled. “I want to ride with Duff.”

  Jillian glanced at Stephen. He gave an abrupt nod then returned to adjusting the horse’s tack. He’d been acting differently toward her since they’d left the caves. He’d not shared the warmth of the bedroll at night, preferring to sleep enwrapped by his plaid while keeping watch with Duff. She’d offered to take a turn at guard duty, but repeatedly Stephen shooed her away, telling her to take her rest with Keita.

  Perhaps he found traveling with her and the children a burden. She sighed and returned her attention to Keita. “Sure. You can ride with Duff for a while.”

  The delighted girl spun in a circle, skirt swirling around her ankles, and skipped to Stephen.

  He lifted the child onto the boy’s horse as if she weighed less than a feather. Stephen seemed to be growing stronger daily. Thank goodness he no longer needed the crutch and only showed a trace of a limp when walking. The speed of his healing truly amazed Jillian. Made her a believer in faerie magic.

  As he passed, he leaned in close. “Keep an eye on her. When she tires, one of us can take her on our horse.”

  “Of course.” Did he think Jillian wouldn’t watch after the children? Cripes. She was beginning to feel cranky.

  He helped her mount, though not as familiarly as on previous occasions, then mounted his stallion, and they reined the horses out of the small clearing onto an overgrown game trail. With her skirt bunched up for riding astride, brush and twigs tugged at and caught on her exposed woolen stockings. Seemed like every dozen feet, or so, she needed to halt and detangle the wool cloth from a bramble.

  After an hour or so, they entered a broader trail. The earthy smell of fallen leaves reminded Jillian of home, of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the trails surrounding the garden center. Would she ever find her way back to Foxgloves? She could only hope.

  For the moment, her future was in Stephen’s hands.

  Several hours passed before they broke free of the forest. The noonday sun warmed her shoulders. They climbed a hillside with a scattering of cheerful yellow blooms.

  “Lovely, is it not?” Stephen said.

  Jillian jerked a surprised gaze in his direction. They were the first words he’d uttered since leaving camp this morning. Maybe he felt cranky, too.

  “Yes, I’m surprised to see gorse in bloom this late in the year.”

  “Always some in flower. My ma used to say, when the gorse is in bloom, ’tis kissin’ season.” He laughed and his blue eyes twinkled. “You should see the golden hillsides near Castle Lachlan in springtime.”

  She stared at his lips, wanting to kiss that sexy mouth. But then she glanced away. Hopefully, she’d be home in North Carolina way before spring.

  “I will miss you, lass,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

  She twisted toward him. “You will?”

  “Aye,” he said, gravely. The horses had slowed and Jillian tried to read the emotion in his eyes, getting lost in their depths. She would miss him, too. More than she wanted to admit. Perhaps, if only he—

  The children rode up and shattered the moment. “We are hungry.”

  Jillian shook her head. She shouldn’t consider staying.

  “Then we better feed you, aye?” Stephen said, as if he hadn’t just sent her world off axis and into a wobble. Could Stephen possibly want her to stay?

  After dismounting, Jillian spread one of the plaids on the hillside in the sunshine, craving warmth. Stephen dropped beside her. Keita chased Duff over the hill, burning off excess energy.

  “Meant what I said earlier,” Stephen said. “I will miss you.”

  Jillian lifted her face to the sun, feeling awkward. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There is nae need to say anything.” He squeezed her upper arm. “Just wanted you to ken it has been my greatest joy meeting you. I wish you well in your future place.”

  What was he saying? Or, what was he not saying? She bit her bottom lip. Did he want her to stay here in the past with him, but feared asking? She couldn’t stay. Could she?

  “What if I can’t return to my own time?”

  “Nae worries. You will.”

  “What makes you so certain?”

  He shrugged. Maybe he wasn’t convinced at all.

  What would happen to her if she were stuck here in the past? Would Stephen marry her? He hadn’t declared his love. He said he’d miss her. Like a friend?

  There was so much she liked about him. He was sexy as all get out, yet there was so much more to the man. He treated her and the children with gentle consideration. He’d taken them under his wing even though they were not his responsibility. She loved his honesty.

  Did she love him? She was beginning to believe so. Or was that just her being needy?

  If she was stuck here and he didn’t want to marry her, what would she do? She’d perish on her own without a way of earning a living. How could she possibly take care of herself?

  Keita ran toward them, jounced on the blanket, and handed over a small bunch of golden flowers, drawing her attention away from Stephen and her jumbled thoughts. Jillian inhaled the blooms’ coconut-like scent careful of the prickly stems. “Thank you, sweet pea.”

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “Because I think you’re a sweet little girl.”

  Keita beamed, leaned forward and kissed Jillian’s cheek, and then dashed off after Duff again. The child was such a dear one. Jillian glanced at Stephen. Major creases lined his forehead.

  What was he doing? Stephen scrubbed a hand over his face. Why hadn’t he kept his thoughts to himself? Kept his mouth shut? Kept a distance? He shouldn’t encourage any sort of special accord betwixt him and Jillian, as much as he wanted to do just that. ’Twould be unfair to lead her to believe he could offer her more than…

  More than what? He had naught to give.

  A tumble in the heather? She deserved more than that.

  He leapt from the blanket, strode to the horses, and made busy loading their saddlebags. He needed to remember he was obligated to another. And though he wasn’t happy with that circumstance, he couldn’t dishonor his vow and lay with Jillian as he wanted. It would be wrong.

  She sidled up beside him and grasped his hand, making everything within him still. “As much as I don’t understand how or why I came to be here. I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet you and the children. Thank you for helping me.”

  She’d lumped him in with the children. Did she not have deeper feelings for him?

  “I can do naught else.” And wasn’t that true?

  “I wish I could stay and spend time getting to know you better. But…I don’t belong here.”

  He swallowed hard. It was only right she’d want to leave. “Let us be on our way so we can get you back where you do belong.”

  She nodded. They mounted and rode on in silence. The children started to bicker and before long, Keita once again rode with Jillian.

  When they came upon a small glen with a burn running through it, they stopped for the night. After setting camp and eating, he put Jillian through her paces, making her practice throwing the knife. She’d made progress, hitting the target one out of every three throws. Not as good as she might need to be, but a marked improvement, and better than he had hoped after such a short time.

  “Hope this is a waste of time,” she said. “I don’t want to need to use the knives.”

  “I ken. Slit the bottoms of the pockets in your skirt. Then lift the skirt and strap a knife to each thigh.
”

  She raised her brows. “Why?”

  “You need to have them within easy grasp.”

  She did as instructed then eyed him suspiciously.

  She read him well. “’Tis time to teach you how to protect yourself if you are physically attacked.”

  “I won’t need to face that. Will I?”

  “Not if I am able to protect you. However, there are many dangers in this time. Remember, if things turn ugly, if I cannot come to your aid and you need to fight hand to hand, expect to get cut. Ignore the pain. Keep fighting. Your objective is to make the bastard bleed. Slow him down.”

  Her beautiful face scrunched up with a deep frown. He hated that he’d caused her distress.

  Stephen hugged her. He knew immediately ’twas a mistake. Made him want so much more—a future with Jillian.

  He stepped away. Cleared a suddenly parched throat. “I ken you dinnae want to stab anyone, but your life may depend on it. May I attack you?”

  * * *

  Bored beyond measure, Caitrina massaged aching shoulders. She repositioned her weight on the limb and released a heavy, though silent sigh. What were the bairns doing for so long in their hidey-hole? Gloating over their treasure like a dragon with its horde? How long did Maclay plan to wait?

  Another hour passed. The sun crept over the horizon, shades of vermillion painting the sky. Soon ’twould be dark. She could barely remain still. Her knee jounced. Fingers tapped.

  Maclay scratched the back of his neck, glanced around as if he sensed her presence. She placed her thumbs in her ears and waved her fingers at him. Stuck out her tongue and blew soundless raspberries in his direction. Ha! He couldn’t hear or see her; she remained invisible.

  They were both distracted when the lads popped out of the thicket and darted away through the trees. With a frustrated growl, Maclay dropped to a lower branch then jumped to the ground, springing into a full-out run as he dashed after the children.

  Caitrina laughed. The bairns were good at evading grownups. He didn’t stand a chance at catching them.