by Eliza Knight
Greer cursed herself and bit the inside of her cheek. “I…” Panic rose in her chest.
But then his features softened, and whatever ghosts had momentarily haunted him seemed to ebb away. “Och, come now, I didna mean to upset ye.”
“Perhaps I’m not the only one who acts a bit reckless at times.”
“Mayhap.” His gaze never left hers. “Though I didna pierce ye with my spear.”
Greer’s face flushed red at the double meaning in his words. Had there actually been a double meaning? How was she to know? In any case, she grew flustered. She wished she could pluck a berry and toss it at his forehead, if only to make herself feel better, or at least break whatever spell he held on her.
“I’m calling this test my win, since the berries did not actually poison ye. Though I wouldna mind right now if ye choked a wee bit for having scared me to death.”
“Verra well, ye can have it.”
“Two wins and one loss. That means I’ve won a majority of your silly tests of skill.”
“Silly?”
“Aye, silly.” She didn’t know why she was getting so irritated. Maybe it was because she was nearing her women’s courses, or maybe it was because she did want him to…pierce her with his spear.
She started to march away, but he grabbed her hand at the last minute, stopping her. The warmth of his fingers seeped into her bones, and all the irritation seemed to melt away.
If she wanted to yank away from him and go back to camp, she could. If she wanted to turn around and slap him for touching her, she could. But she wouldn’t do either of those things.
The thing was, she wanted his hand on hers. She liked the feeling of it, and the way little tingles raced from the spot on her fingers where he grasped her, all the way up her arm, settling in her chest.
She turned slowly and gave him her best I’m-annoyed-with-ye expression, but the goofy grin on his face and the tender look in his eyes was her undoing. The frown fell away from her lips, and she shook her head.
“Ye really scared me. I…I thought I’d done something reckless once more to get ye killed, and as it is, I’ll never forgive myself for what happened on the firth two years ago.”
“Och, I’m sorry, lass. I truly didna mean to scare ye.”
“I forgive ye. But, please, dinna ever do that again.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
She squeezed his fingers and then let his hand drop. “Let’s get back to camp. Suddenly, I’m in the mood for bannock cakes.”
“No more berries?”
“Definitely nae.” She laughed.
They packed up camp, mounted their horses, and were on the road shortly thereafter. Greer’s eyes kept closing, and she jerked awake. She was exhausted. She really should have stayed in bed a few days to recover. Och, wouldn’t it be nice to climb into Roderick’s lap the way she had when they slept? To feel the heat of his arms around her, or the solidness of his chest against her back? Aye, that would be glorious, and then she could nap all the way to Sutherland. Alas, it was but a dream, and she pinched the inside of her arm to wake herself up.
Around midday, they stopped to rest and eat a bite, and then were off again. By late afternoon, they came to the River Ness with its blue-black water reflecting the foliage around the perimeter and the mountains in the distance. The water rippled gently, disturbing the reflections, and Greer found herself staring hard, waiting to see if the river monster would raise its head from the chilly depths to greet them.
As a lass, she’d heard a thousand stories about the river monster. A particular story stuck in her head about a wee child being taken from the shore to live in the depths of the river. Of course, this was likely told to keep children away from the water—a fear tactic. But it hadn’t been for Greer; nay, it had only excited her. What would it be like to live at the bottom of a river in a village filled with mysticism? There had to be all sorts of creatures there besides the river monster, like mermaids and nymphs, and selkies. It would be incredible.
Of course, she’d waited hours by the water near Dunrobin, hoping that her prayers would be answered and a river monster would come, only for her hopes to be dashed when her father found her there and admitted it was all a ruse.
How disappointed she’d been. But what relief her father felt knowing she no longer harbored a desire to dive deep.
“She appears rather tame,” Grim remarked, the rumbling in his chest as he spoke startling her. “Let’s find the most shallow part of her.”
They were going to ford the river? A knot formed in Greer’s belly. She tried to quell it, but it only grew until her stomach burned and she felt very much like retching up her breakfast.
They rode along the edge of the tranquil river—which now seemed to hold much to be desired for her—until he found the spot he deemed most perfect.
Before he urged his horse into the water, Roderick tipped her chin up, turning her slightly so he could peer into her eyes. His expression was serious. “Will ye be all right to cross?”
Greer bit down on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t show him her fear. Already, she’d cost him days by refusing to go on a ship. If she refused to cross the river, they’d travel for days on end to find a place where they didn’t have to get more than toe deep.
With a great sigh, she said, “Aye. I believe so.”
He let her go, and she stared hard at the water, unable to make out the bottom. She would be fine. Had to be. It wasn’t storming. She wasn’t swimming. And she had Grim and all his men. Plus, she’d be on horseback. What could possibly go wrong?
But even thinking that question had her stomach quickening. She’d said the same thing when everything had gone wrong before.
“Is this a test? A test of my fear?”
“Nay, lass. We’ve several rivers to cross. I’d not make ye take a test over and over. Besides, our three tests are over, aye? Ye won the majority. Ye’re the victor.”
“But it is a test all the same,” she murmured, biting her lip.
“A personal test then.”
“Aye.”
“I’ll nae let anything happen to ye,” he promised.
Greer glanced at him, saw the seriousness of his expression and nodded.
“Ye can ride with me if ye like.”
Her eyes widened. It was as if he’d read her mind. Had she not been fantasizing about that all day, if only to get some rest? She peered behind them at all his men. What would they think of her if she did that? They would definitely think less of her, would have to. They might already, considering she’d not been brave enough to board the birlinn that would have made this journey take hours rather than days. Probably some believed she’d unnecessarily put them in danger because of her fears.
Well, she needed to prove she was stronger than that, didn’t she?
Squaring her shoulders, she said, “I can do it.”
A flash of pride crossed his expression. “That’s it, lass. Conquer it.”
Grim had no idea how his words spurred her forward.
He nodded toward the water. “I’ll go first, and the men will be behind ye. Ye’ll be surrounded should something happen, but I’ve faith ye can handle it.”
She nodded, staring at the rippling water.
“Have ye ever crossed a river afore now?”
“Aye,” she said, her voice coming out stronger than she imagined it would, thank goodness.
“Then ye ken what ye’re doing.”
With that, he faced forward and clucked his tongue, giving his mount the go-ahead to step forward. Grim’s horse’s hooves splashed into the water. He took it slowly, feeling out the bottom of the river so as not to harm his horse should he get caught on something, or should the bottom of the river suddenly give out.
Greer let them go on about a dozen feet forward before she, too, clucked her tongue and urged her mount into the water. The mare seemed excited about the prospect of being in the water, and that made Greer smile. The horse nickered and pranced forward
with eager steps and so much enthusiasm that Greer had to slow her down, fearful the mare might get stuck or spooked and toss Greer off in the process.
Ahead, Roderick had already traversed quite a ways in, and behind her, the men were coming along, too.
“Ye all right?” Grim called from ahead.
“Aye.”
“Good.” He flashed her a smile before turning forward.
This was good. She was doing it, and while her heart pounded as the water slowly rose up over the horse’s forelegs and close to her belly, Greer forced herself to take deep breaths.
She was fine. Nothing was going to happen. When the water touched the bottom of her boots, she felt a moment of panic. A sudden need to leap off the horse and swim back to shore hit her, but the very idea of being in the water also made her want to retch. This was not good. The more she thought about it, the more her panic rose. And her mount must have felt that.
The horse let out a whinny, shook her head, and pranced uncertainly to the side. Greer held tightly to the reins, nudging the horse with her calves to go forward in the right direction, but the more she nudged and tugged at the reins, the more antsy the animal became—which only made Greer panic more. It was a vicious circle, tightening ever more like a noose around her neck.
“My lady,” one of the men hurried to stand beside her. “’Tis all right. Loosen your grip and let the horse lead the way. She’ll want to follow Laird MacCulloch.”
Greer nodded, but it was easier to agree than to actually do. They went forward a few more feet, but soon her calves were encased in the cool water, even though she’d yanked the fabric of her borrowed plaid up above her knees. Soon, she would be in it thigh deep with the horse fully submerged and swimming.
Roderick seemed to sense her panic, for he turned his horse and started riding back toward her. When he reached her side, he smiled softly.
“Ride with me?” It wasn’t an order, of that she was certain.
He was merely making a suggestion, one she was extremely grateful to hear.
Without a word, Greer nodded, but she wasn’t certain how to get to him. She peeped down between them, seeing the water widen into what looked like an impossible gulf. Grim wrapped strong hands around her waist, lifted her out of the saddle, and expertly transferred her onto his lap.
He was solid beneath her. All hard thighs and strength. He was warm, too, and she found herself wanting to sink into his arms and stay there. There was something so incredibly comforting about being in his embrace, his arm snaked around her middle, her back flush to his chest, her legs slung over one of his thighs. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest where she could hear his heart beating steadily. The solid bump bump bump soothed her, and she worked to breathe in and out with the beats, matching them in rhythm.
“Thank ye,” she murmured. “I tried, but the deeper we went…”
“I know, lass. Ye’re safe now. And when we get across, I’ll build ye a fire to warm yourself by.”
She nodded, and the top of her head bumped against his chin. “Once more, ye’ve saved me. Seems like I should be the one saving ye.”
He didn’t say anything, and she peeked up at him to see if her reminder of the grave injury she’d given him had made his mood sour. But there was only a soft smile playing on his lips and no trace of annoyance.
Greer studied him as they continued through the water, shuddering when it continued to rise. Watching him was a good distraction, although she couldn’t hide the fact that the cool river depths were now rising up her thighs. And like all fabrics, the wool soaked quickly.
It was only when Grim started murmuring against her ear that all would be well, that she realized he thought her shuddering was from fear. Perhaps some of it was.
She clung tighter to him, sensing he liked being her savior, but also knowing she liked the feel of him holding on to her too. What was a little trickery to get the sweet taste of being held in his arms? Oh, how she wished he would have kissed her in the woods.
When they finally made it to the other side, they all dismounted and gave their horses a chance to catch their breath and steal a few sips of water.
Greer wrung out her gown as best she could, leaving a massive puddle that trickled through the grass in long wet fingers to join Grim’s puddle.
He gave the orders for his men to set up camp just beyond the river and the line of trees, and then she helped him gather wood for a fire. It was early yet for supper, but even still, he handed her a bannock, and she gratefully took it.
The heat of the fire was warm, and she hoped that by nightfall, her gown would be dry, else it was going to be a chilly sleep with the wet garment clinging to her skin. The cold and wetness of it sent her mind flashing back to those unbearable hours she’d floated in the firth, waiting, praying, believing she was about to die.
From across the fire, Grim stared at her in a peculiar way that warmed her from the cold thoughts. The hoods of his eyes were heavily lidded—just like they’d been when his mouth had been inches from her face. Was he thinking about that lost opportunity in the woods? Or perhaps they were only slitted to keep the smoke from the fire out. Whatever the reason, she had the oddest feeling that his regard was actually one filled with…desire.
Chapter Ten
The smoke in Roderick’s eyes did not do anything to hide the woman who sat before him. From where he sat across from her, the smoke made her look hazy, like a fey tempting him to cross over the flames.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what it had felt like to hold her against him. To cradle her and keep her safe. Though he’d attempted to put a stop to his craving for a kiss, it was all he could think about. How he’d like to leap up from his place on the log, walk through the blasted campfire, lift her up, and kiss her until neither of them could breathe.
Greer was the last woman that Roderick should ever want to hold, and yet…he couldn’t seem to get the idea out of his head.
If he’d not been certain his waterskin was in fact filled with water, he might have thought he’d imbibed in a bit too much spirits. Maybe there was something about the berries after all. Some sort of drug that made him feel…
What did he feel exactly?
An intense need to protect her. For all to know she was under his protection and no other’s.
It was this latter desire, the one to proclaim to one and all she was his and his alone, that shook him to the very core of his being. How many times in the past couple of days had he tried to talk himself out of these feelings? Perhaps just as many times as he’d found himself being talked into them.
But it had felt so right holding her. And she’d trusted him to protect her. To take her to safety without judgment, and he’d fully given her that.
This was madness. The lass had thrown a spear into his leg, an injury that still pained him often. She’d laughed at him. And he still wanted to walk across the flames, scoop her up, and carry her into the woods where he could lay her down on a bed of nature’s own making to show her all the ways in which he could worship her.
Bloody hell.
Roderick shook his head, breaking his gaze away from her. He was in trouble. Massive trouble. He’d been jesting with her. Teasing her with the berries, laughing, toying, flirting. It had been the same when he’d run after her in the woods and then held her against him. The sheer willpower alone that it had taken not to kiss her in that moment…
Mo chreach! This was not the way a warrior behaved. This was the way of stable hands with the maids. He could not recall his father ever having behaved this way. Nay, a laird had to be a leader at all times. No time for games. Playing games got men killed.
Was it the rebel in her? The hellion brought out the part of himself that had been rightly repressed as a child? For men needed to be men, and women needed to be women. When people counted on him, he could not turn into some wayward lad looking for a few laughs. He had to protect his people. To hold himself accountable. To be the man,
the warrior, the leader. To notice when danger was near. If he was too busy playing games with the lass, how was he to notice something such as a bloody Ross coming up behind him?
He ground his teeth. If his father could see him now, would he be disappointed? Probably.
Guilt soured his belly. He had to be better. Had to put her out of his mind. At least until he’d got her back to her father. Once there, he could run away as quickly as he could find a ship.
Deciding to go on this adventure with her had been the first wrong move among many. He’d played into her love of adventure and games. Stoked her reckless side and in turn, his own.
They had about three days left of travel by his guess, and in all that time, he was going to have to figure out how to break whatever hold she had on him. Because all the things he wanted to do went against all of the things he should be doing. Kisses, games, all of it.
Clearing his throat, he pushed to stand, and without looking at her, he marched away toward his men to get an update from the scouts.
He’d taken barely three steps when the pull to turn around and make certain she was all right with him leaving her side was enough to make him want to toss himself from the nearest cliff. What kind of a man was he turning into? One with no backbone? She had to be all right with him leaving. This was his duty, and hers was to stay put. He nodded to himself and continued his march toward the edge of camp.
“Imbecile,” he murmured to himself.
Angus eyed him warily. “My laird.”
“What is it?” Roderick snapped, feeling instantly contrite.
“Ye seem out of sorts.”
Roderick grimaced. “I worry about the Ross clan, ’tis all. We’ve seen naught of them.”
Angus nodded. “They’ll be dealt with soon enough. We’ve faith in ye.”
Roderick glared as far as he could see down the river and across. They were sitting ducks to any enemy, but they could not ride wet—there was no way in hell he was going to risk Greer getting sick. “Any word from our scouts?”
