There was also the worry about those on their trail. He grew angry with himself. He had been so engrossed in conversation with her that he hadn’t paid heed to his surroundings. He knew better than that. He had allowed his interest in her to interfere with common sense. And now she had suffered the consequences.
He had to get her somewhere she would be safe. Night being near upon them would help. Those who followed would not be able to track in the dark and would likely wait until dawn. It would be wise to put as much distance between them before that if possible.
Traveling in the thick of night was not new to him. He and his brothers had been trained well, and night travel had been part of that. However, carrying Bliss would slow him some, but it couldn’t be helped. At least he could gain some distance before morning.
Bliss moaned, her eyes fluttering open. She moved to sit up.
“Slowly,” he said, slipping his arm around her to help her. He felt the sticky wetness through her cloak and fear twisted his gut. He moved his hand as soon as he was certain she could sit up on her own. He was surprised and upset to see that blood covered his hand. “You’re bleeding.”
“A minor wound,” she said, trying to stand.
“That much blood is not a minor wound,” he said, his arm going around her waist and lifting her to her feet though he didn’t release her.
“Trust me when I tell you it is minor. Right now we need to leave. They follow.”
She saw and knew, so he asked, “How many?”
“Two,” she said. “They were sent—”
“To find and return you and kill me,” he finished. “That young soldier realized his mistake fast enough and, no doubt, is one of the two who follow. He wants to impress the king by capturing you.”
“Aye, he does,” she said, nudging him away to allow her stand on her own. “But we must hurry.”
“You’re injured; I’ll carry you, and we’ll put distance between us and them.” He reached out to scoop her up, but she brushed his effort aside.
“No,” she insisted. “I am fine for now. It is the two soldiers we must worry about. They follow. We cannot outrun them. We must—”
“End this now,” he said, knowing it was the wisest choice. Otherwise, they would continue to be chased by the pair. “You are certain there are only two? There isn’t one who has been sent back to report our location?”
“The young soldier isn’t the only one who wishes to impress the king. The one who joined him wants the same, and neither is considering anything but his own glory.”
Trey gave a quick perusal of the area, and Bliss did the same though she was faster to decide and hurried forward. He went along with her, not liking the way she held her arm close to her body. She was in pain and trying to hide it.
She stopped suddenly and pointed at a towering pine. “The tree. You can get me up there to hide the way you did as a child.”
“What?”
“We have no time to discuss this. It will provide cover for me and ease your concern for my safety.”
If she could sense his concern for her, what else could she sense? He had no time to consider it. She was right. If he could stow her away—
“Hurry,” she urged. “They are not far off.”
“Get behind me, lock your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, and hold tight.”
She nodded as she did so, and when he was certain she had a firm hold on him, he reached up for the lowest branch. It took him no time to climb into the densest part of the tree branches even though the pine needles jabbed at him as if annoyed at the intrusion. He found a spot where two branches formed a nook and settled her safely there with the extra blankets and food sack.
He then slipped a dirk from his boot and handed it to her.
She shook her head. “It won’t be necessary.”
He slipped it back in his boot and leaned in close. “I will be back for you; then I’ll see to that wound of yours.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, as though it were the most natural thing for him to do. “Rest and stay as still as you can.”
He disappeared through the tree branches and was soon out of sight.
Bliss rested her head back against the tree trunk. His gentle kiss had comforted and left her with a sense of calm that all would be well and she need not worry. She liked that he took a moment to kiss her, and though it was a mere tender, friendly kiss, it had tickled her senses and sent a rush of gooseflesh over her.
Here she was perched high in a tree, her arm paining her considerably, and where were her thoughts?
Kisses.
She settled for a smile though she would have preferred to laugh aloud. It felt so wonderful to be kissed, even a light, friendly kiss. And to know that he cared and worried over her safety and well-being and—that he had held her hand.
The simple act of holding hands stirred something in the soul, and it had been stirring hers since Trey had walked out of the mist and into her life.
She winced, a pain suddenly shooting through her arm. The wound needed cleansing and bandaging and a touch of healing, though healing herself was not always easy. For some reason, her touch worked better on others than on herself.
Voices interrupted her thoughts, and she listened as they drew closer. The quiet woods carried the voices along on the cold night air, making them sound closer than they actually were.
“They couldn’t have gotten far,” said one, who no doubt thought he whispered.
“They would never expect us to follow in the dark,” said the other.
Bliss recognized his voice. It was the young soldier, and she grew sad that he had not paid heed to her warning that it would not be her husband who died this day. Perhaps Trey was right about man deciding his own fate. The soldier had been warned and chose to ignore it, thus choosing his fate.
Their voices drifted away as they went to meet their destiny.
Bliss closed her eyes and rested her hand beneath the arm that pained her. She would need to tend it as soon as Trey returned. And then she would sleep. It had been a long and tiring day, and she longed to curl up on a blanket before a nice warm fire and drift into a pleasant sleep.
It had been a brief scuffle, Trey having surprised the two soldiers and neither having been as experienced with swords as he should have been. He left their bodies for Mother Nature to dispose of as She saw fit. He was eager to return to Bliss, see to her wound, and settle them for the night.
He worried when she didn’t stir upon his arrival. When he reached out to gently rouse her, she winced, and he hadn’t even touched her arm.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a weak smile. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Your arm?” he asked anxiously.
“Too much pain, something is wrong.”
The pain had increased, and she had weakened since he had left her. She would not be strong enough to hold on to him as she did when he had climbed the tree. He didn’t waste time. He needed to get her settled and see to her wound.
He tossed the rolled blankets and food sack to the ground and moved to the side opposite her wound.
“I’m going to help you stand,” he said. “Slow and easy we’ll go.” He wrapped her arm around his neck, and, with his arm strong around her waist, he eased her up.
She gasped, and he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“The pain. There has to be a reason for so much pain.”
“Can you keep one arm around my neck and curl your one leg around mine?”
“I believe so.”
“I can get us down if you feel strong enough to do that,” he said.
She nodded.
Once she did as he asked, he started their descent though it didn’t go as easily as he had hoped, and the darkness didn’t help. Pine needles poked and jabbed her injured arm, and by the time they reached the bot
tom branch, he could feel that her strength had waned.
He held her tight and, with one hand, took hold of the last branch to lower them to the ground. Her body went limp in his arms, and he knew she had fainted. He didn’t hesitate. He eased her over his shoulder and got them quickly to the ground.
Chapter 5
The pain woke Bliss, her eyes springing open. She lay next to a crackling campfire, a blanket beneath her and another one covering her. Her cloak was gone and the sleeve on her right arm was ripped wide, exposing her wound.
“You’re awake,” Trey said, bending down beside her.
“I fainted?” She reached out anxiously for his hand. “I have never fainted.”
As soon as his hand took hold of hers, she calmed, and her apprehension began to dissipate.
“You had good reason; a small part of the arrow splintered and broke off in your arm.”
“That explains the pain,” she said. “You’ll need to remove it.”
“Already done,” he said with a smile. “I thought it best to get it done before you came to though it wasn’t difficult. I got a good grip on the small piece, gave a tug, and it was out.”
She looked quickly at her arm. “Bleeding?”
“Not as much as I expected. I was just about to clean and bandage it for you.”
She smiled. “I see that I am in capable hands.”
“Aye, you are,” he confirmed with a smile.
His confidence eased her concern, and she allowed herself to rest as she watched him work. He bent over her, his focus intense, his touch gentle. She had studied his face often when she had helped heal him. You could tell much by watching a face. And even though he had been unconscious through most of the healing process, his face had shown discomfort, pain, worry, sorrow. But now—now she saw concern there, and it was for her.
He genuinely cared, and he was upset over her suffering, as if he suffered along with her. This caring part of him seemed in such contrast to his warrior side. He had taken two lives a short time ago, and now those same hands were gentle and healing.
He was a good man, this husband of hers, and the more time she spent with him, the more she learned about him, the more she liked him. She still wished she could see beyond these moments, but visions of him came sparingly.
“I’m afraid I have to tear a piece of cloth from your other sleeve to use as a bandage,” he said. “But worry not; I’ll see that another blouse is stitched for you.”
She did not object to his kind offer and she was resting her hand on his arm to thank him when a vision struck. It was of the same woman, and this time he hugged her close, the pain and hurt so strong on his face that it stabbed at Bliss’s heart.
“Whatever you saw troubles you, I can see it in your eyes.”
How odd that he could read her face as easily as she read his. She wasn’t ready to share her visions of him and another woman just yet. She wondered if she would ever be ready, but, then, that was nonsense. Her destiny was written, and she must follow it whether it included Trey or not. It was simply the way of things, and she could not bemoan it—or so she tried to convince herself.
“A vision too obscure to understand,” she said.
“Not all visions are clear?” he asked, tearing the piece of cloth he needed and beginning to bandage her arm.
No one ever discussed her visions with her. They seemed afraid to do so, which left her feeling alone much of the time. She could not believe how easily Trey talked about the subject or that he was interested in doing so.
“Some are a challenge to understand,” she said.
“But you embrace them anyway, don’t you?”
“I really don’t have a choice. It is hard to ignore them.”
He finished tying off the strips of cloth he used to keep the bandage in place. He turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. “That must be a terrible burden.”
There was something in the blue and green hues of his eyes that captivated. She couldn’t quite explain it, wasn’t sure what she saw, she only knew that it held more power than anything she had ever known, and, for a moment, it frightened her.
“At times,” she said, turning her head to glance at the fire.
“You’re tired and no doubt hungry.”
“More so one than the other,” she said.
“Regardless, you’ll need to eat to keep up your strength, or so says my mum,” he said with a laugh, “though her cooking was not easy to stomach.”
His laugh brought a smile to her face. And she wondered how he had deduced that she’d be more tired than hungry. Then again, it would seem the more reasonable choice after all they had been through today. Still, his strong intuitiveness nagged at her.
Her yawn was another indication that the long day had caught up with her.
“The only strength left me is sleep,” she said.
“First, a piece of bread and cheese to sustain you,” he cajoled, searching through the sack.
He found the items and, after setting them near her side, moved to sit behind her. He slipped his hands ever so gently beneath her back and lifted her to sit between his spread legs and rest in the crook of his shoulder. He then reached for the food and split it between them, his one arm remaining firmly around her.
He took the liberties of a husband, sitting them intimately together and making no apology for it. Of course he was her husband, though the truth of it was that their marriage had not been consummated, so one could argue their union was not recognized.
And so she said after a nibble of cheese, “This is all so strange.”
“It seems natural to me.”
“It is natural to wed someone, unaware that you did, to do all you can to keep your unexpected bride safe, and to tend her when she foolishly falls down a hill?”
“The force of the arrow caused you to stumble; foolishness had nothing to do with it,” he said. “And as for keeping you safe, it is no chore, though I didn’t keep my bride safe enough, or she would never have tumbled down the hill.”
“These are troubling times in the Highlands—the winds of change blow heavily, leaving debris and hardship in their path. You protect me when it is not your duty—”
“You can argue that point all you like, but it is my duty, and I will see it done.”
“You have another duty that comes first,” she reminded.
“I need no reminder that I serve the true king and will see him safely seated on the throne. I am well aware of what my duties are and where and when I am needed. And how do you know that I am not on a mission and that being wed to you provides me with the excuse needed to accomplish it.”
She tilted her head to the side to study him. His eyes were as compelling as ever, and, before they could befuddle her senses, she said, “I have seen nothing to indicate that.”
“And if that was the case, it is well that you don’t.” His finger pressed against her lips as soon as she opened them to respond. “Leave it be. And let this arrangement serve us well for now.”
Bliss shrugged and pushed his hand away. “There is no harm in that. After all, how meaningful are vows when they are yet to be consummated?”
He rested his lips near her temple, and whispered, “I can rectify that very easily.”
“Why?”
The simple question brought a smile to his lips. “Need I explain?”
“Aye, please do,” she said.
“You’re serious?”
“Of course I am. Why consummate vows you never plan to honor?”
His expression darkened. “I would honor my vows.”
“Because you consummated them, not because of love?”
He shook his head. “You’re complicating things.”
“Love does that; it complicates.”
“No it doesn’t,” he argued. “Love is simple.”
She laughed. “You are a fool if you believe that.”
“I not only believe it, I lived it,” he said with a thump to his chest. “I once loved deeply, and it was not complicated. She loved me, and I loved her. There was no question about it. No need for concern. Love was there in our hearts, in our actions, in our words. Nothing could take it from us, nothing but—death.”
He moved her gently aside, stood and walked around to the other side of the campfire, and sat.
“I am sorry for your loss,” she said, “though I know those words bring little comfort. I truly am sorry. I cannot imagine your pain.”
“There is no healing it,” he said, stretching out on the blanket and pillowing his arms beneath his head. “A wound to the body heals given time. The pain fades and returns no more. Not so when you lose someone you love. You think the pain gone, then it surfaces once more and hurts all over again.”
She could not stand to see the suffering in his eyes, and so she said what she sensed. “Your pain will go away and never will you feel it again.”
He turned on his side, his eyes locking with hers. “Promise.”
“Aye, that I can promise you.”
“How can that be?”
“I do not know,” she said. “I cannot explain it. I can only tell you that it will come to pass.”
“Soon?”
“Aye, soon,” she said, and felt a stabbing pain to her heart.
“I wish I could believe you, but the only way for my pain to go away is for Leora to return to me, and she can’t. She’s dead.” He dropped back on the blanket. “Sleep and rest so that we can get an early start in the morning.”
Bliss eased herself down on the blanket, her arm paining her. She lay there trying to heal her wound, but found it difficult to concentrate. Her thoughts continued to return to Trey and what she had sensed. How could his pain ever heal when the woman he loved was dead? Of course he could find love again, but would that heal his old wound or simply make it easier to live with?
Wed to a Highland Warrior Page 4
