Yesterday's Promise

by Michele Paige Holmes

  Instead of being more frightened, I felt outraged at this. I slammed my forehead into Malcom’s chin, then freed one hand to claw at his face. With a surge of strength I pushed him off of me and rolled out from under him.

  Malcom reached out, only just missing my head. I scrambled to my feet, too late realizing he stood between me and the cave entrance. I’d rolled the wrong direction to escape.

  I backed up as far as I could. He laughed, then lunged forward, grabbing my arm and jerking me toward him. He struck me again. My eyes smarted, blurring his face and the look of determination I saw there.

  “Don’t do this,” I begged. “Please. Think of my grandfather.” I couldn’t stop the tears flooding my eyes.

  “Your grandfather’s dead.” Malcom grabbed the front of my dress and ripped the bodice down the middle. “Proof,” he said. “So when they find you, they’ll know what’s happened.”

  When they find me— dead? Fear pounded in my ears. I stopped fighting and used my free hand to try to cover myself. “Please don’t,” I pled once more.

  In answer Malcom pushed me against the wall and reached again for my skirts. He stopped suddenly, head angled toward the cave opening, listening. A horse nickered.

  Footsteps.

  Someone was out there, but I could not feel relief. Don’t let it be Brann. I screamed louder than I had before and shoved Malcom from me.

  He hauled me in front of him, a knife pressed to my throat. “Who’s there?”

  “Alistair.” The man I’d thought of affectionately appeared at the cave entrance looking as grim and grey as the morning light behind him. “Brann’s almost here. He’ll have your head if you’ve harmed the lass. He wants her for himself.”

  You, too, Alistair. I tried to meet his gaze, but he wouldn’t look at me. My heart broke a little more. Collin had trusted Alistair. I was sure of it. Had Alistair betrayed that trust before coming here? Had something happened to Collin?

  Behind me Malcom stiffened. “It’s almost morning, and Brann isn’t here. Better she’s ruined by a Campbell than to let the MacDonald have her. I’m just following the laird’s orders.”

  Alistair shook his head slowly. “He said to bring the lass to him untouched, so he could take her to wife. You ken she’s too good for the likes of you— granddaughter of a laird herself.”

  “One who betrothed her to a MacDonald!” Malcom’s shouts reverberated through the cave. “I can have her as well as the next man.”

  Alistair shrugged and started to turn around. “It’s your neck.” Hoofbeats sounded outside. “That’ll be Brann.”

  “Fine.” Malcom held his ground, knife to my neck, but I sensed his hesitation and felt his hand tremble.

  Alistair left the cave, and urgent, clipped Scots’ brogue could be heard outside. I increased my breathing, feigning panic that wasn’t far from the truth. “Brann,” I whispered, fear unfurling inside of me. A tawny-haired bully of a youth appeared in my mind.

  Never believe anything Brann says. Never trust him. Someone had once told me those things. Brann would have taken from me already what Malcom had attempted. “Not him.” Anyone but him.

  “You remember our laird?” Malcom asked.

  I do. I gave the slightest nod and felt his blade against my neck.

  Footsteps crunched over the rocky floor. A man’s broad frame crowded the entrance, blocking what light we had. My heart leapt as a dark head ducked at the low ceiling. Collin.

  Get down.

  My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor in a pretend faint. Malcom tried to catch me as I fell, his hand with the knife moving from my throat. Another dirk sliced through the air, only just clearing my head and striking Malcom’s shoulder. With a cry he released me. I sprang forward, crawling toward the entrance.

  Collin held his hand out. I reached to take it when another shadow appeared.

  “Behind you,” I cried, my warning barely in time for him to whirl and face Alistair.

  Malcom seized my foot, pulling me toward him. I flipped over and kicked at his jaw.

  Collin leapt over me and drove a knife through Malcom’s chest. Malcom’s scream died out. His grip went slack, and he fell backward.

  I scooted away. From behind someone lifted me beneath my arms, pulling me.

  “Let go.” I struck out at Alistair. He held his hands up and stepped from my reach.

  “You’re all right now, lass. It’s over.” His brows drew together, and compassion swam in the depths of his own, watery eyes. He wiped at them with the back of his sleeve.

  “It’s all right, Katie.” Collin led me out of the cave. “Alistair’s on our side.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. It was he who realized you’d been taken and followed so quickly. If not for him, I wouldn’t have been able to find you. He went into the cave first, to assess the situation so we had the best chance of rescuing you.”

  I turned my face into Collin’s shoulder and sobbed. He held me tightly in his arms, whispering soothing words. A blanket was placed around my shoulders, and Alistair mumbled something about taking care of the body.

  Collin led me a short distance from the cave and continued to hold me while I wept like a child. After some minutes my tears at last subsided, and my head cleared enough that I could begin to think of something other than the night’s terrors.

  “It’s Brann, isn’t it?” I raised my head to look at Collin. “He’s the one you warned me about when you said there were those who believed I’d a gift and would use it for their own purposes.”

  “Aye,” Collin said solemnly. He held me away from him, hands braced on each of my arms as he looked at me with concern. “Ian wishes you dead, while Brann wishes me dead and you his to control.”

  I shuddered, and Collin pulled me back into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me comfortingly.

  “How are we to live among the Campbells if Brann intends us harm?” My earlier fears were confirmed. Collin was at risk, too, having married me.

  “It is why I’ll not leave you there alone,” Collin said. “There are many Campbells, like Alistair, who remain faithful to your grandfather and his wishes. But there are some, particularly those younger men like Malcom, who give their allegiance to Brann.”

  “How are we to know who is to be trusted and who isn’t?” The homecoming I’d envisioned was not to be.

  “I was rather hoping you might be able to help with that.” Collin stroked my back, his touch soothing away at least some of my worry.

  It was my grandfather’s abilities he was speaking of again. “And if I cannot?”

  He shrugged. “It will be as it was when you were a child. It was a rare occasion I ever left your side.”

  But he could not be at my side and also be laird of the MacDonalds. We’d returned to the same problem we’d been discussing last night, which brought to mind his brother.

  “Will Ian be all right?” I asked. “I only meant to shoot his hand.”

  “It was you.” Collin looked down at me, his brows arched, incredulity slowly replaced with consternation. “I thought he’d accidentally misfired upon himself, but then a pistol was found on the carriage floor, and you’d gone missing. I thought it was Malcom who’d fired the shot to cause a distraction.”

  “Ian was pointing a gun at you,” I said. “What else was I to do?”

  Collin shook his head, and a corner of his mouth lifted. “Nothing else. It would seem we’re even now. I saved you last night, and you repaid the favor.”

  He failed to mention he’d just acted a second time on my behalf.

  “A shield for your back as you are for mine.” I’d never imagined our vows would be tested within the first week of marriage.

  “Don’t forget. ‘Your name I cry out in the night—’” Collin quoted. “Had you but called for me last night, perhaps some of this might have been avoided.”

  That was not exactly the meaning I’d derived from that particular vow, but I didn’t argue. He wasn’t
scolding exactly, but his expression appeared stern as we stood, toe to toe, his head bent close to mine.

  “Never go away with anyone again— man or woman— unless I direct you otherwise.”

  I drew in a shaky breath and nodded. “I won’t.” Lesson learned. Trust no one, excepting Collin and perhaps Alistair. The latter joined us, leading three horses, his expression grim.

  “I’m sorry I misjudged you, Alistair.” He’d been so kind to me, and I had repaid him poorly.

  He gave a little nod. “You weren’t to know.”

  “Alistair has long been our ally,” Collin said. “And a good one to have. He may not have the Campbell ability to see the future, but his tracking skills are astounding in their own right. There’s not another man I’d rather have on my side.”

  Beneath such praise, Alistair’s face turned near to the shade of his beard. “We’d best be off, in case Brann does show up here.” He pulled a knife from the belt at his waist and held it out to Collin. “Cleaned it as best I could. Laid him out proper in the cave. We dare not take the time to bury him.”

  His tone was matter of fact, as if taking care of a dead body and cleaning the weapon with which it had been killed was ordinary, day-to-day business. I felt lightheaded as I had last night, after shooting Ian.

  “Leave Malcom’s horse behind,” Collin instructed. “If we reach the Campbell keep before it does, we can watch to see who returns it. And even if we arrive after, with a bit of searching we could probably find out who brought it in. Someone else was helping Malcom, and I want to know who.” Collin took the reins of Ian’s horse from Alistair. “Katie will ride with me.”

  At my questioning gaze, he shrugged.

  “Ian won’t mind overmuch that I’ve borrowed it. He isn’t going to be fit for riding for a while. He’ll be taking the carriage home.”

  “His injury—”

  “Is a bit lower than his hand.” Collin looked away instead of meeting my eye.

  Alistair chuckled. “Too bad she didn’t have a pistol with her just now.”

  Collin’s gaze flickered downward, to my torn gown. The tartan square, placed between my breasts when I’d dressed the night before, was the only thing left keeping me reasonably modest.

  Embarrassed, I clutched the blanket tighter around me. Alistair had the grace to look away, while Collin stepped forward and tied the corners, then settled it around me like a temporary cloak. “I’d kill Malcom if he wasn’t already dead.”

  Dead. By Collin’s hand. I should have felt shocked or sorrowful— something other than the relief that had swept through me when Collin’s knife had struck true. Was violence like that to be a part of my life here?

  “How many men have you killed?” I asked, not at all certain I wanted to know the answer.

  “Since the war, one. Today,” Collin said. “It’s not a practice I relish.”

  This both relieved me and made me sorrowful. He killed a man for me. “You fought during the rebellion? But you were just a boy.”

  “The prince wasn’t particular about who stood up for him, so long as you could hold a musket steady. My first battle was at Prestopans. We won. I didn’t celebrate with the others, but threw up afterward.”

  “I feel a little like that now,” I admitted, though I thought it still more from what might have been than from knowing the end Malcom had met.

  “As well you should,” Collin said. “I don’t imagine violence and death have been a part of your life.”

  “No.” I prayed they wouldn’t be now. “I’m sorry I was the cause of you taking a man’s life.”

  “You weren’t,” Alistair said.

  “True,” Collin agreed. “Malcom made his own trouble.” Collin helped me mount Ian’s horse, then swung up behind me, leaning forward to study my face, as if to make certain I was well enough to ride.

  “I’m glad you are safe, Katie. And if I’ve got to kill a man to see to that, or journey to the very center of hell and back to protect you, I will do it.”

  A slow smile grew on the old laird’s face. “If you knew what a gift I’m giving you both with this betrothal, you’d be eager instead of hesitant.”

  Hesitant wasn’t the half of it. My heart throbbed in my chest as I fought against the unseen forces holding me in place.

  “I’m frightened,” Katie said, her eyes large and round. From head to toe she trembled, shivering in her bare feet and night rail, her plaid having fallen to the floor. I squeezed her hand and shuffled closer, wanting to offer comfort from the storm encircling us.

  “That’s right, Collin.” Laird Campbell nodded his approval, as if he understood the direction of my thoughts. “You are to protect Katie so she can fulfill her destiny. Henceforth you will feel drawn to her as a moth to a flame. Only you’ll not catch fire with the effort.” His look grew thoughtful. “Not for some time yet, anyway. Though there will come a time when you will burn for her...”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Our morning ride was vastly different than the previous night’s, the pace steady instead of breakneck, with daylight instead of moonlight illuminating our path. With my back against Collin’s chest and his arm securely around me, I felt safer than I had since leaving home, and might have found it the most enjoyable travel yet, if not for the turmoil within me.

  We did not speak much. Exhaustion and tension kept me silent, and I suspected Collin had many matters occupying his mind. The one at the forefront of mine was where we should go from here; it seemed neither clan would welcome us.

  I questioned aloud why we needed to go either place, why we were even considering it with the dangers awaiting us.

  “We’re not considering joining the MacDonalds,” Collin answered in a surly tone. “And it’s not up for discussion.”

  Fine. Allow your family to suffer under Ian’s leadership. I stiffened my back, keeping as far from him as possible to show my displeasure at his curt and entirely unsatisfactory answer. “I don’t see that living with the Campbells is any better,” I argued. “Brann seems at least as dangerous as Ian.”

  “Aye,” Alistair confirmed.

  “Then why go where he is?” I looked to Alistair for an answer, but he sat straight and faced forward on his horse.

  “Because it was your grandfather’s wish,” Collin said.

  “He wished us to be killed?” My voice rose in pitch. Being shoved in the river by Ian had been terrifying, but what Malcom had attempted last night seemed worse. I wouldn’t soon forget his hands on me or the feeling of his knife at my throat.

  Brann’s orders, he’d said. How many more Campbell men were there, willing and ready to carry out their leader’s wishes?

  Alistair exchanged a knowing look with Collin over my head, turning some of my fear to anger. There was something they weren’t telling me. Many things, perhaps.

  “Let’s rest the horses a while,” Collin said. “We can spare a few minutes.” He guided Ian’s stallion to a stop, then dismounted and held his hands out to me. I hesitated, half of a mind to continue on without him.

  “Katie.” His voice held a warning.

  I glared as I allowed him to help me down.

  Alistair joined us in a tight circle. Both men looked at one another again, a sort of uneasiness in their eyes. Alistair shrugged, as if to say, she’s your wife.

  “I’ll make this simple.” I put my hands on my hips and looked to both of them. “I’ll ask the questions, and if I point to you, you answer.”

  Alistair tugged at his beard. “Nothing simple about this, lass.”

  “I hadn’t thought or planned—” Collin rubbed the back of his neck. “We believed you’d remember— that you’d know what you’ve come from... and who you are,” he clarified.

  “I was five when I left Scotland. What was I supposed to remember? The names of my dolls?”

  Collin’s mouth twitched. “You never cared much for dolls.”

  “You’re sounding much more like the lass we knew then,” Alistair added. “A go
od sign, I think.”

  I assumed he referred to my flaring temper— rarely displayed without good cause. Perhaps my poor behavior as a child was justifiable after all, if I’d lived under similar stress as I had the past few days. “A good sign for what?”

  “That you’re up for the task ahead,” Alistair said, eliciting a scowl from Collin.

  “What task would that be?” Somehow I doubted they meant running a household or raising babies or any of the usual responsibilities associated with being a wife.

  Neither man replied, and their shadowed looks returned. I tried a different, more direct question.

  “Who else would like to see me dead?” After two attempts on my life in the past day, surely I was at least justified to know who or what might be after me.

  “No one,” Collin said. “Though as you’ve seen, neither Brann nor Ian works alone.”

  In other words, at anytime, anywhere, we might be attacked. I spun away. Tears stung my eyes, and I already had a headache from my earlier breakdown. I can’t live like this.

  Based on the previous day’s events, I might not have to for long.

  I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that when I opened them again I’d find myself back in my attic, where my biggest concern was having to leave my paintings behind when we moved. How trite a worry that now seemed. I no longer had anything resembling a home, and my belongings had been reduced to a torn gown and stockings with holes. I stood alone in a strange forest in a foreign country, with nothing between me and death but two men I’d not even known one week.

  “Alistair, give us a moment, please,” Collin said.

  “I’ll see about getting the horses some water.”

  I remained where I was, facing away from them, and listened as the older man and animals moved a distance off.

  “Katie.” Collin’s voice was gentle— and close. Why had he stayed? What did he think to say to me that couldn’t be said in front of Alistair?

  “May I— touch you?” He came up behind me as he had that night at the inn.