The Crime of Protection

by Gloria Martin

  He aimed again, and two shots echoed across the moors. Gavin felt a firm punch in his shoulder as he saw another man fall dead. When he tried to lift his arm, a hot pain blossomed through what seemed like the whole of his body.

  “Gavin!” he heard Reagan call.

  The pain was too much for him to do anything more than gasp, and there were spots at the corners of his eyes. He sucked in desperate breaths of the acrid smelling air and dropped his musket, going for the pistol stuffed through his belt. He raised it and shot, but his aim was wide, and the bullet soared harmlessly off into a hillside. It was Isaac who dispatched the last outlaw, and Reagan came running to his side, calling for her brother. Together, the two of them helped Gavin walk to the coach.

  There was the tearing of fabric and then pressure on the hole in his shoulder that made him cry out. Reagan hushed him softly and she and her brother half pushed half lifted him into their coach. Gavin’s breath came in harsh pants. He felt Reagan sit next to him and place her hand on his brow, smoothing his hair back and muttering soft nonsense into his ear. Isaac shouted orders to his men. It must have been five minutes before he felt the carriage turn around and head back the way it had come, back towards Gavin’s estate.

  “Stay with us now, love,” Reagan said, but the jolting of the coach was too much for Gavin to bear, and he soon lost consciousness.

  *****

  When he woke next he was in his own bed, thoroughly naked, with a throbbing in his shoulder and a mouth full of cotton. There wasn’t a bit of his body that didn’t seem to ache, and his arm had the worst of it. An attempt to shift it did nothing but send a lance of pain down to his fingers. He cracked open his eyes. The curtains were drawn and the room was dim, lit only by candles and a small fire burning in the hearth. Even with the windows covered Gavin knew it was dark outside. He must have been out for several hours.

  With a grunt, he propped himself up on his good elbow and looked around for a pitcher of water. His blankets covered him from the waist down, and wrapped around his chest was a length of bandage, all meeting at his shoulder. There was a dot of red on the linen. Gavin sighed and rolled his head to the side. A pitcher of water and a basin had been set on his bedside table. Letting his injured arm sag, Gavin used what strength he had to sit and drape his legs over the side of the bed. The blankets tugged at his hips as he reached for the pitcher and gulped down large mouthfuls of cool water. It dripped down onto his chest and stomach, running in little rivulets along the line of his muscles. He was trying to reposition himself when the door opened and Reagan stepped into his room, carrying a small bundle in her arms. Gavin felt his neck grow hot and automatically reached to pull the blankets closer to himself.

  “Dinnae be shy,” Reagan said as she closed the door behind her. Gavin could hear the relief in her voice as plain as day. “I’m glad tae see ye awake. We were afraid perhaps ye had lost too much blood.”

  “We?” Gavin croaked out.

  “Isaac and I,” Reagan replied. She crossed the room and sat on the side of the bed. She found where the end of his bandages had been tucked away and started to unwrap them. Gavin shifted as much as he could to accommodate her. “We’re both verra thankful for yer assistance,” she continued, “but I must admit I’m curious as tae why ye were there at all.”

  “Call it a gut feeling,” Gavin replied. “I heard the servants talking in the hall about outlaws in the area, and I just kent I had tae reach ye. I may hae looked a fool were nothing amiss, but ma head would not allow me tae sit idly by and wait.”

  The smell of herbs curled into Gavin’s nose. Someone, Reagan he assumed, had pressed a poultice into his wound. His dirty bandages were discarded on the floor, and Reagan prepared the new ones.

  “Nae sign of infection,” she said, and raised her blue eyes to his. “Ye are either verra brave, or verra foolish.”

  “Can it nae be both?” Gavin asked.

  Reagan glanced away, her gentle hands re-bandaging his shoulder with practiced ease. Gavin settled back when she was done, very aware of the closeness of her body and his nakedness, and feeling both thrilled and awkward from the proximity.

  “Perhaps it can,” Reagan said. She stood, only to round the edge of the bed and come to Gavin’s uninjured side, standing silhouetted by the fire. Gavin watched her curiously. “I was afraid,” she said, “when I saw ye fall.” Her hands worked in the darkness, pulling at the ties of her bodice. “It felt like someone had reached into the verra heart of me and squeezed. I dinna ken what I would hae done had ye died.”

  “Ye needn’t worry,” Gavin replied. “I live, and ye are here with me. There’s nothing on this earth I would trade that for.” Fabric rustled in the quiet and something fell to the floor. “What’re ye doing?”

  “I wish tae be with ye,” Reagan replied.

  She lifted the blankets, ignoring his startled, strangled protest, and slipped into bed next to him, her body warm and supple through the thin material of her shift. She pillowed her head on his good shoulder and laid a hand on his stomach, rubbing gently. Gavin’s heart was a lump in his throat, and only grew as Reagan’s hand moved down.

  “Yer brother-”

  “Disnae own me. I am ma own woman, an’ I could hae lost ye today, without e’er having kent what it’s like tae truly be one with ye.”

  Her touch was like fire. Gavin groaned despite himself, his eyes sliding shut as Reagan’s hand wrapped around his length. His solitary youth had meant he had been denied the touch of a woman, but now that it was Reagan who was there with him he was glad, for once, for his lack of experience. Reagan’s touch was unsure, but not hesitant. She explored what got the best reaction out of him, her lips leaving little dots of fire on his shoulder and chest. Her breath was hot when she sighed across his skin. He missed her touch the instant she moved her hand, but then she grabbed his and guided it between her legs where she was hot and wet, and made the smallest noise of pleasure in the back of her throat.

  “Jaysus,” Gavin sighed, crooking his fingertips to explore her folds. Reagan pressed her face to his shoulder and gently rolled her hips into his touch.

  “Will ye, Gavin?” Reagan asked. “Please...”

  “Aye,” Gavin said. His voice was as low and rough as Reagan’s. “Aye, only, how-with me arm-”

  For a short moment Reagan neither spoke nor moved, then she lifted her head and dislodged Gavin’s hand as she shifted around her body weight until she could lift her underclothes up and off, dropping them over the side of the bed. She pressed her naked flesh to his, and carefully swung one leg over his waist to straddle him. She leaned into his chest, hands grasping his face, and kissed him soundly.

  Her buttocks rubbed back against his manhood, creating a friction that was quickly driving him mad. He tried to move his arms to grab her hips, forgetting about his shoulder, only to wince and gasp out in pain when his wound flared. Reagan hushed him and placed one of his hands against her hip before kissing him again.

  “Are ye ready?” Reagan asked.

  Gavin found he could not speak, and instead nodded, never letting his gaze leave hers. Reagan drew in a deep breath, and began to inch her hips back. Gavin helped as much as he was able, his hand half gripping Reagan’s hip and half her rear to guide her onto his aching manhood. They groaned in unison as she slid easily onto him, her warm walls like velvet encasing him. Gavin only knew what he had heard talk of from servants and family, but his body had been waiting, and Gavin felt his own hips rise up to meet Reagan’s body as she fully settled on him, slipping the last fraction of his erection inside her. Neither of them moved for a long time. Reagan buried her face in Gavin’s neck and left it there, breathing quickly, her hair a dark curtain spreading over both their bodies. Gavin raised his hand to stroke it, inhaling the scent of her.

  It was Reagan who moved first, undulating her hips in a slow, even rhythm. “Touch me,” she whispered into Gavin’s skin.

  “Where?” Gavin asked in a throaty husk. “How?”
/>   “Here,” Reagan sighed and moved his hand between her legs again.

  Gavin rubbed as he had before, with Reagan’s fingertips pressing into his wrist, keeping his hand firmly in place as she rode him, her body moving as if she had done so a hundred times before. It was impossible for Gavin to keep his eyes open, as much as he wanted to watch the pleasure on Reagan’s face. He wished with all his being that he could use his other arm, that he could properly hold her and take her as a man should. Already there was sweat gathering on his skin and a pressure growing at the base of his shaft. Reagan’s moans were soft, unrestrained. To his right the fire crackled away, warming them both as they neared their peak. He heard the change in Reagan’s breathing and felt her grip on his wrist tighten. Her lips crashed into his in a desperate kiss, tongue pressing against his teeth. Gavin rolled his hips up, feeling and sensing that she was close to the pinnacle of her pleasure and not wanting to leave her there alone.

  “Marry me,” Gavin said, forcing the words out of his mouth. “Tomorrow. I cannae imagine a life without ye in it.”

  “Aye,” Reagan replied instantly. “Aye, aye.” She kissed him again and again, moaning against his lips, her body trembling lightly under his touch.

  The heat Gavin felt where they joined exploded into a rush of warmth that filled his entire body. He heard himself cry out and held Reagan as close to him as he could, thrusting firmly up into her. She moaned his name, lips by his ear, and joined him in his pleasure. She sagged against him a moment later, panting into his good shoulder, still gently rubbing herself against his fingers. Gavin left his hand where it was until Reagan pushed it away herself, and lifted it to tangle his fingers in her hair. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the musk of their sweat and sex.

  “I could die a happy man,” he said with a laugh.

  Reagan chuckled weakly. “Dinna ye dare,” she said. She rolled off him, both of them groaning as he slipped out of her, then cuddled up against his side, her legs wrapped around one of his. “Did ye mean it?” she asked, pillowing her head against his chest.

  Gavin stroked her hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly return to normal. His shoulder ached like the devil, but it was worth it for what he and Reagan had shared.

  “Aye, I mean it,” he said. “Marry me.”

  “Then we had best sleep,” Reagan said, already sounding sleepy, “for we shall need all the energy we can muster for tomorrow night.”

  Gavin huffed out a short, soft laugh and let his body relax, warm, content and satisfied with Reagan at his side.

  ***

  Gavin wasn't sure if it was possible for his arm to hurt more than it did when he woke up the next morning, but he was in no hurry to test the theory. Reagan had woken before him and dressed, and changed the dressing on his shoulder before she went to tell her brother the news. Gregory entered his room so soon after she had left that it was unlikely the butler was unaware of their shared night, but he said not a word, only helped Gavin from his bed and fetched clothes.

  “Ma parents' rings,” he said carefully as Gregory shaved his jaw, “they were left for me, were they nae?”

  “Indeed, sir,” Gregory replied. “They're in the lockbox in yer father's study, as per his instruction.”

  “I should like tae fetch them,” Gavin said.

  “I'll be sure tae do so, sir.”

  “And send someone tae the village tae bring word tae the priest.”

  “Aye, sir, t'will be done.”

  Gavin nodded and let Gregory finish shaving in peace. A sling was fashioned for him to support his arm before he left the room to find Reagan and her brother and fill his empty belly with bread. When he caught sight of the MacGregor siblings at the breakfast table he hesitated, his gaze scrutinizing Isaac for any sign of displeasure, but the hunter seemed relaxed and jolly. Gavin cleared his throat and took his seat, tucking his napkin into his collar with his good hand.

  “I hear ye've got it into yer head tae marry ma sister,” Isaac said. Gavin nodded and the hunter grinned. “Good. It won't be exactly what we expected, but as long as there's a priest and a blessing, then I'll be in mighty fine spirits.”

  “There will be,” Gavin said.

  Isaac nodded his approval. Reagan reached for Gavin's hand and held it until their food was brought to them, only then releasing it with a squeeze. The three of them ate a slow, quiet breakfast, chatting about nothing of great import. The pain in Gavin's shoulder lessened, although not much, but by the time the messenger Gavin had had sent out returned, he could ignore all but the worst twinges. Gavin and the MacGregors’, along with Gregory, left shortly after, taking a coach down to the village church. Gavin supported his arm as best he could during the bumpy ride, but was thankful when it finally ended.

  The father greeted the group on the kirk steps with a smile on his weathered face. He ushered them into the building. A handful of witnesses had gathered and sat at the pews, waiting. It wasn't exactly a traditional ceremony, but Gavin had never had a traditional upbringing, and Reagan wasn't a traditional woman. The short, quiet, private joining suited the both of them just fine.

  The priest spoke in gentle Gaelic, one of his hands hovering over where Gavin and Reagan's were clasped. Gregory brought forward the rings, shiny from wear, and with a smile on his face Gavin slid the band that had once been his mother's onto Reagan's finger. Their first kiss as husband and wife was soft and sweet, shared with grins and easy laughter.

  “I must admit,” Reagan said as they left the church to whistles and applause from those who had gathered, “I didnae expect ma wedding day tae be so uncomplicated.”

  “We can do it again, if ye like,” Gavin replied.

  “Once is enough, I think,” Reagan replied. She leaned gently into him, mindful of his arm. “All I want is tae be alone with ye.”

  “I believe that can be arranged,” Gavin replied.

  They were followed by the priest, who took separate transportation and followed them back to the manor to bless Gavin's bedroom and bed. Both he and Reagan were silent on the fact that they had already consummated their love for each other. It was no great secret, as Gavin was fairly sure the entirety of his staff had figured it out, but it was fun to have something innocent to hide.

  “Will we be haein dinner first or will ye two lovebirds be straight off tae bed?” Isaac asked. Reagan scolded him as he laughed at the way Gavin's neck turned red.

  “Of course we'll eat,” he said. “The priest deserves some bread and wine as payment for his services.”

  “And a bit of coin,” Isaac said. “Let him bless the room and send him on his way. This evening is for family.” He patted Gavin's knee and grinned.

  Gavin smiled. Food was tempting, but so was bed. His shoulder was starting to hurt again, and he couldn't think of anything in the world he wanted more than to just have a glass or two of whiskey and slip into bed with his new wife, to be properly, full joined together in God's eyes.

  When they arrived back at the manor, Gavin and Reagan led Isaac and the father up to Gavin's chamber, and stood off to the side while the priest walked slowly about the room, reading from his bible and sprinkling holy water in the corners and at the windows and threshold, before finally moving to stand by the bed.

  “In the name of our Holy Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen,” the father finished.

  “Amen,” the three echoed, crossing themselves with bowed heads.

  “Thank ye for yer service, Father,” Gavin said, “and on such short notice. Please, speak tae Gregory before ye leave. He will see that ye are compensated for yer time.”

  “A good night tae ye, ma son,” the priest said, laying his hand on Gavin's good shoulder. “And may God bless ye and yer family as weel.”

  “Good night, Father,” Gavin replied.

  Gregory, who had been waiting in the hall, bowed briefly to the priest and led him away.

  Isaac crossed his arms over his chest, observing the newly-weds. “I think I'll be haein dinner in
ma room tonight,” he said, and left with a wink.

  “That does sound tempting,” Reagan said after he left. “Just ye and I, alone, a small meal, and our own bed.”

  “Aye,” Gavin said, “that it does.”

  He rang the bell for a servant and passed along the order, and when he and Reagan were finally allowed some peace, he wrapped his good arm about her waist and pulled her against his chest. She tightly returned his embrace, pushing her nose under the collar of his shirt and into his neck. Gavin nuzzled her hair and closed his eyes. He said nothing else, content to simply stand there and hold the woman who possessed the other half of his soul, until the pain in his shoulder bid him to sit and warm himself by the fire, with Reagan at his side. She stroked her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his brow and behind his ears.

  “Are ye happy?” she asked.

  “The happiest man alive, for I hae found ma greatest treasure and lived tae enjoy it.”

  “And ye are mine as weel,” Reagan said, and then turned to answer the knock at the door and bring in their supper.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 13/40

  For Love or the Game

  Trevor’s stick made contact with the puck, his eyes locked on the goal. His skates cut the ice with a sound like no other, drowning out the noise of the crowd and the shouts of the other team as they raced after him to get to him before he could score. They were locked in a tie and the game had gone into sudden-death overtime. It was now or never. If he missed this shot, the other team would get the puck and potentially make a goal. Maybe they’d fail, but it was unlikely. They’d played one hell of a game thus far, and his team couldn’t risk a bobble.