Campbell's Redemption

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Campbell's Redemption Page 19

by Sharon Cullen


  Against her better judgment, she sat on the side of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what I want, Iain. I like this.” She waved her hand between the two of them. “But I’m no’…I don’t know if I’m right in the head at the moment.”

  He took her hand. “Don’t say that. Of course you’re right in the head. You’ve had a lot happen to you over the past few years, and you’ve never dealt with it.”

  “Maybe ye’re right. But I need to deal with it. I need to think about all of this, and I can’t do that when I’m with ye. Ye make me want to believe that everything will be okay.”

  “Maybe not okay, but certainly better.” His grin was lopsided and a bit uncertain.

  She smiled back. “I’ve been by myself so long that sometimes, if I’m around people for too long, I get anxious. I need space, and I need my time alone.”

  His jaw flexed, and she knew she’d hurt his feelings, but she wanted to be completely honest with him.

  “Don’t be angry,” she said.

  “I’m not angry. I’m frustrated.”

  “I’m sorry I frustrate ye, but I think ye’re frustrated because I won’t follow yer commands like everyone else does.”

  “I’m not commanding you.”

  “Aren’t ye?”

  He pressed his lips together and she sighed. Though she didn’t want their night to end like this, Iain was pressuring her, demanding more than she was willing to give at the moment.

  “I care about you, Cait.”

  She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “I know ye do, and I care about ye as well. But Iain, ye can’t be angry at me for being who I am.”

  “I’m not angry at you, I’m—”

  “Frustrated. I know.”

  She stood and looked down on him, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him, but she resisted. Her reasons were convoluted, and even she didn’t understand the half of them. All she knew was that something was holding her back.

  He snatched her hand. “How are you?”

  She raised a brow.

  “About Donaldson. How are you feeling about that?”

  “I’m fine.” When she smiled, even she knew it was a brittle smile.

  “You’re not.”

  “I will be.”

  He looked skeptical and she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I will be thanks to ye. Thank ye, Iain, for everything ye’ve done for me.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Cait.”

  She smiled and touched his cheek before straightening. “Sleep well.”

  It had been an exhausting, emotional day. Coupled with making love to Iain, everything was jumbled inside her. She was angry at herself for letting a man like Donaldson control her.

  But wasn’t she also letting her fear of a relationship with Iain control her?

  Did she really have any control over any of it?

  Chapter 27

  Alice had her baby later that morning. A strapping bundle of boy. Iain insisted on escorting Cait to the cottage, and by the time they got there, Alice was ready to push that baby into the world. He came out squalling, with an excellent set of lungs and alert eyes. Really, all Cait was needed for was to catch the wee lad as he slithered into her hands.

  Birthing babies was one of her favorite things to do; she loved being the first one to touch a baby and hold it and see it take its first breath. But she was emotionally wrung out afterward, as she always thought of Christina. Her beautiful, sweet Christina, whom she had struggled to bring into the world. It had not been an easy birth, but oh, how worth it she had been, healthy and strong, if tiny. She had flourished and always been such a well-behaved lass.

  Cait left Alice, the babe, and the three other children to go in search of Iain. He was sitting under a tree with the new father, Sean, drinking ale and telling tall tales, no doubt. Sean stood immediately and anxiously searched Cait’s face.

  “She’s fine, and so is the babe. Go on and see her. Find out what ye’ve got there.” She watched, smiling, as Sean loped off, half pissed with drink. “Ye two were having a fine time drinking out here while Alice did all the laboring.”

  “It’s hard work being a man and having to sit outside feeling helpless. The drink helped calm him.”

  “Well, then ye did a fine job, because he’s very calm.”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I try.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. The tree was big enough for both of them to lean against, and Cait rested her head against the rough bark with a deep sigh. They held hands and sat in silence while the birds sang in the tree above them and the warm breeze nearly lulled her to sleep. Neither of them had slept much the night before, and she could easily fall asleep right here.

  “You did good in there,” Iain said.

  She turned her head to look at him. “Ye weren’t even in there.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t need to be to know you did good. I’ve seen you with your patients. You’re a good healer.”

  “Thank ye.” She was inordinately pleased by his praise.

  He held up their linked hands. “Sometimes I tend to forget what these hands can do. I’ve seen you dig a pistol ball out of Adair and tend to those who were burned in the fire.” He kissed her fingers. “And just a wee bit ago, you delivered a babe.”

  “Really, I just caught him. Alice did all the work.”

  He turned his head so they were almost nose to nose. “Don’t discredit what you do. It’s vital, and I want you to know that I would never ask you to stop being a healer. I understand that it’s a large part of who you are.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m glad ye understand that about me.”

  He lowered their hands to rest on his hard thigh. “I understand more than you think. I understand that birthing babies takes something out of you. I can see it in your eyes right now. You’re thinking about your own wee one.”

  She pulled in a surprised breath and turned her head away, discomfited that he’d reached so far down into her soul and seen the dark part of her that was jealous of Alice and her four beautiful, healthy babes when Cait couldn’t even keep the one she’d been given.

  “It’s not wrong, what you’re feeling,” Iain said. “I imagine it’s quite natural.”

  “Ye can stop any time now,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion.

  “I guess what I’m saying,” he continued, ignoring her, “is that I don’t want you to ever be afraid of talking about your Christina. Or John. They’re both a large part of you and who you are. Don’t turn your back on those memories because of me. I know…” He cleared his throat. “I know you blame me for John’s death.” He squeezed her fingers. “I blame myself as well. I hope that we can get past that someday.”

  The warm, bright day turned a bit chillier and dim. She hoped that someday thoughts of John and Christina wouldn’t cause her world to darken. “I used to blame ye for John’s death, but in truth I was directing my anger at ye when I should have directed it at John. John died doing what he wanted to do. Ye say that being a healer is what I am. John was a warrior, and he laid down his life for his fellow warrior and chief. I miss him terribly some days, and I’m dreadfully angry at him some days, but mostly, I’m proud of him for taking that pistol ball that was meant for ye.”

  They fell into a companionable silence, and the sun became brighter and the breeze warmer. Maybe that was how it happened. Maybe the coldness and darkness faded over time until there was only warmth and light and good memories.

  “How do ye do it?” she asked. “How do ye see so deeply inside of me like that?”

  “I don’t know. I just do. I’ve never been able to do it with anyone else. What do you think about that?”

  “I don’t know.” She shied away from those thoughts, not willing to delve into them just yet.

  “I think you do.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “We should go before Sean comes out here wondering what we’re doing.”

  Cait checked on the mother an
d baby one more time before she and Iain left the newly expanded family with the promise that Cait would return tomorrow. They rode back to the big house in a comfortable silence that ended when they were confronted by Palmer. “I have news,” he said.

  Cait tensed, waiting for the worst, although she didn’t know what that would be anymore. Iain moved closer until their shoulders were touching, and she was grateful for the silent support.

  “Lieutenant Donaldson has been reassigned starting immediately. He’s been transferred to the northern Highland region.”

  “Truly?” Cait had convinced herself that the incident was not as serious as she’d first believed. She’d felt that she made it more than it really was, and being with Iain had given her a sense of safety. Or at least she’d thought it had. But hearing Palmer say that Donaldson was going very far away made her weak with relief.

  “You have my thanks, Captain,” Iain said.

  “When does he leave?” she asked.

  “Today. He was given no choice. I want to extend my apologies, Mrs. Campbell, on behalf of the English army. That is not how an English officer is supposed to act.”

  —

  “You can’t go back.” Iain stepped in front of her to block her from walking out the front door.

  She pulled up short. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I won’t stay here. I’ll no’ have people talking about me like that, and I’ll no’ have it go around that I’m yer mistress.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Iain, please. Ye’re acting foolish.”

  “I’m acting foolish? Because I care about you?”

  “If ye care, then ye’ll let me go. Ye know where I am, and ye know ye’re always welcome. But I have a home to go back to and…” She looked around. There was no one lurking about, but that didn’t mean that ears weren’t pressed to doors or eyes weren’t looking through locks. “And I have obligations to meet.”

  His expression wavered and he stepped away. She smiled at him, knowing how difficult it was to let her go. He worried about her, she understood that, but she refused to let her life be ruled by fear when it was already ruled by fear of commitment. This was something she’d only just realized about herself, thanks to Iain. She was afraid of having any sort of relationship, whether it be friendships with other women or a romantic relationship with Iain or any other man. She couldn’t even give her cat a proper name because she feared he wouldn’t stay around long.

  But knowing about her problem and fixing it were two different things, and she wondered if she was beyond fixing. Maybe she was too scarred to ever be a person who could trust again. Maybe she would always be broken.

  She walked out of the big house. The front was now a manicured lawn rather than the upper bailey of old. Things were changing rapidly, and Iain was at the forefront of those changes. She didn’t like many of them, but she was beginning to understand them thanks to Iain.

  Her mount was waiting for her, the reins held by a young lad who smiled as he handed them over. She quickly mounted.

  Iain was standing in the open doorway watching her. She’d insisted on leaving alone, needing to do this. She refused to let Donaldson take her freedom or her independence. She was nervous but knew this was something she had to do, just as she knew that it was driving Iain mad that she would not allow him to accompany her.

  “I’ll check on you tonight,” he said.

  “Ye don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She grinned, allowing him this, because if she didn’t, he would do what he wanted in the end. She could push him only so far. “Tonight, then.” With a confident wave, she rode off. It felt good to be alone with her thoughts without Iain hovering about.

  As she had predicted, the ride home was uneventful. She encountered no miscreants or murderers, as Iain had feared she would. The road was deserted, and she enjoyed her freedom and her thoughts. She was at peace at the far edges of Campbell land. But was it a false sense of peace? Would she be at peace elsewhere if she only allowed herself to be?

  These thoughts were exhausting, but she also knew they were needed. It was time to question her life. Although the way she lived had served her well in the years after John’s death, she was beginning to realize that what worked for her then would not necessarily serve her in the future. Change was frightening, but sometimes staying in the same place was more frightening.

  She was and was not surprised to see Graham sitting outside her cottage. So much for being alone and at peace. She dismounted as he stood.

  “I heard ye had trouble with the damn redcoats,” he said gruffly.

  “Word travels quickly,” she said as she led her horse around back.

  Graham followed, grumbling about the damn redcoats.

  “The trouble is gone,” she said. “Iain and Captain Palmer took care of it.”

  Graham snorted. “Ye put too much trust in those two. They’re thick as thieves, and I don’t trust them as far as I can throw ’em. Bloody Sassenachs is what they are, one no better than the other.”

  “Careful,” she said. “Ye’re starting to sound like MacGregor.”

  That shut him up for a moment. He wasn’t overly fond of MacGregor and had never liked being compared to the other chief. “He might be right in this,” he grudgingly admitted.

  She stopped and stared at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ye say that.”

  He shrugged. “Ye can never trust a Campbell, always thinkin’ of themselves, they are. Goes where the wind blows. And where the money is. If the Scots gave him more gold and land, he’d side with them just as easily as he’d side with the bloody English.”

  Cait rubbed her horse down even though the ride hadn’t been arduous. She just wanted something to do.

  “Got nothin’ to say to that, lass?”

  “Iain Campbell was there when I needed him. After my encounter with Donaldson, it was Iain I turned to for help, and he was right there. He took care of me. He let me rail and cry, and he just listened. He’s a good man, Grandfather. I know ye can’t see beyond the history of the Campbell name, but trust me, he’s different. John loved him like a brother and died for him. That says much.”

  Graham harrumphed and said after a bit of silence, “I’ve had several discussions with him about the future of Scotland.”

  “I have, too, and what he says makes sense. He thinks with his head and not his heart. He considers all angles and every scenario. Ye might no’ like what he has to say, but it’s worth hearing him out.”

  Graham eyed her critically. “Ye’ve grown to a beautiful woman, Cait Campbell. Yer mother and father would have been proud of ye.”

  Her throat closed up with tears, and she swallowed them. “Thank ye. That means a lot.”

  “Maybe I’ll let him tell me these thoughts he has. No harm to listen, eh?”

  “No harm to listen,” she admitted.

  He cleared his throat. “I came to see if ye were all right.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Another small bit of silence. “Ye need anything?”

  “Nay.” She straightened and brushed a bit of hair out of her face. “Truly, I’m fine. Between you and Campbell, I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Iain has been very…protective.” She wondered how much Graham knew about the encounter but decided it prudent not to ask. She wasn’t keen on repeating the story, and if he didn’t know, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  “If ye don’t feel safe, ye’re always welcome back home.”

  “This is home.”

  “Will ye ever forgive me, lass?”

  He appeared so vulnerable and old and weary and frail. She wondered how much time she had left with him. Not much. A few years, maybe. Was she willing to waste it on old grudges and even older feuds? That would make her too much like MacGregor.

  “I don’t want this rift between us anymore,” he said.

  “I don’t, either.” She put her arms around h
is waist in a hug.

  For a moment he didn’t seem to know what to do, but then he hugged her back. As she had thought, he wasn’t nearly as meaty and muscular as he’d been even eight years ago. She squeezed her eyes shut, regretting the time they’d wasted on ridiculous anger.

  She pulled away to see that his eyes were wet. He quickly wiped them and sniffed, looking at everything but her.

  She said, “I appreciate yer offer of a place to live. This is my home, and I like it here, but I will come visit.”

  He brightened at that. “Truly?”

  She smiled. “Truly, Grandfather.”

  “Grandfather? Cait?”

  They both looked at the house to find Rory coming around the corner.

  “There ye are,” he said with his lopsided smile as he loped toward them.

  “Come inside,” Cait said, giving up on some quiet time alone.

  —

  They had a nice afternoon. She and Rory did most of the talking, reminiscing, and catching up on old acquaintances and even older gossip. Their grandfather tended to sit back and watch, but he appeared pleased, and she was happy with that. It felt good to mend that rift, to not carry around the anger and guilt that had been plaguing her for so long.

  As nighttime descended, Rory and Graham prepared to leave.

  “Are ye sure about stayin’ here, lass? Ye can come with Rory and me, ye know.”

  “I know.” She looked around her cottage. “But I need to do this.”

  Graham shook his head and muttered, “Foolish,” to no one in particular.

  “I can stay with ye,” Rory said. “I can sleep on the floor or in the barn.”

  Cait smiled at her cousin, delighted that he was back in her life. He was the closest person she had to a sibling. She patted his arm. “Thank ye, Rory, but I’ll be fine.” Rory appeared skeptical but kept silent and rode off with Grandfather Graham.

  As soon as she was alone, exhaustion claimed her. She locked everything because Iain had made her promise that she would, and tried not to think about how silent her house was and how cold her bed would be. Her thoughts strayed to how warm Iain would be lying next to her, and how she really wanted to curl up next to him.

 

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