A Warrior's Promise (9 page)

Chapter
10

C
harlotte
woke before Bryce the next morning, unusual, though he had run miles with her in
his arms, which had to have left him exhausted. The thought that he had done
that to save the lad warmed her heart. Bryce was a caring man more so than he
wanted anyone to know.

One would never think of him that way with just one
glance. He was so big and wide and imposing. He was a Highlander of legends, the
type that battled to the bloody end, the one who would fight for the less
fortunate, the one who would give his life for Scotland.

He was a man of courage, gentleness, and honor—a
true Highlander warrior.

A tear tickled her eye. She was lucky to have met
him, lucky that he had helped her and continued to help her, and ever so
relieved that he wasn't sending her away.

Not that she would have gone quietly; she certainly
would have protested. But that wasn't necessary. She would stay with him and be
glad of it. After all, who would look after him?

He stirred with a groan and stretched awake, his
glance settling on her as he opened his eyes.

“Sleep well?”

“I did,” she said. “And you?”

He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his
head from side to side. “Better than I expected.”

“Our plans for today?”

“You don't waste time.”

“There is no time to be wasting,” she said, trying
to avoid staring at the thick muscles that grew taut in his arms.

“Right you are,” he agreed, and sat up, stretching
his arms once again above his head, his chest spreading wide.

Lord forgive her, but she couldn't take her eyes
off the way his muscles rippled over his arms. Whatever was the matter with her?
Was it because she no longer needed to react as a lad that she allowed herself
the pleasures of a woman?

She bolted up, annoyed with herself, then realized
he was glaring at her almost as badly as she had at him. It took her a moment to
recognize why, and when she did, color rushed to stain her cheeks bright
red.

Charlotte quickly yanked her torn tunic together,
holding it tightly so that her breasts didn't lie exposed.

Bryce, realizing his reaction, hurried to his feet
and muttered something about finding them breakfast and disappeared into the
woods.

She was glad for the privacy, though frustrated,
for at that moment she knew that all had changed between them. She was now a
female in his eyes, and he would treat her differently. She didn't know if she
liked that. She wasn't only used to, but she was comfortable with the
camaraderie they had shared. She felt when he believed her a lad, he spoke
freely about everything. She didn't think that would be the way of it any
longer. And the thought troubled her.

She busied herself in wrapping the plaid around her
so that it almost resembled the way Bryce wore his plaid. She would need to find
other garments as soon as possible, but for now it would have to do.

Once done, she went to the stream to wash her face
and run wet fingers through her cropped hair.

She would need to take a knife to it soon enough to
keep it short and keep her looking like a lad. She couldn't allow a hint of her
female nature from peeking through. She raked her raggedly cut, honey-colored
strands with wet fingers.

Her hair had once been a pride of hers, long and
silky to the touch. Yet the day she chopped it off, she hadn't thought twice.
Her disguise was a necessary step in helping to find her father.

“Someday,” she whispered, staring into the water at
the reflection of the woman who no longer resembled her. Her hair was short, a
bruise covered her eye, right cheek, and jaw and weariness plagued her soft blue
eyes.

“You'll not take a knife to your hair again.”

Charlotte turned with a start to see Bryce standing
a few feet behind her.

“I will if it's necessary,” she argued, and stood
with a careful bounce.

“It won't be necessary.”

“You can't be sure.”

“Don't argue with me,” he said.

“I will when it is a foolish thing you argue
over.”

“You are just as obstinate as the lad.”

“You expected me to be different?” She laughed. “I
am who I am.”

Bryce grumbled beneath his breath before he turned
and walked toward the campfire, and Charlotte was almost certain she had seen
him smile.

She did, however, have no trouble hearing him say,
“Take a knife to your hair, and it will be my hand you feel on your bare
bottom.”

“Not likely,” she snapped back, which stopped him
dead.

He turned and glared at her.

“You'll not be intimidating me with that look,” she
said, and gave a defiant toss of her chin. “I'm not afraid of you.”

He walked over to her, but she stood her ground.
His size alone could intimidate; add to that a knotted brow and piercing dark
eyes, and there wouldn't be many who wouldn't scurry away in fear.

She wasn't one of them. She had gotten to know him
over the last few days, and she knew that he would not hurt her. Threaten and
bluster, yes, but never would the mighty Highlander do her harm.

He stopped right in front of her; another step, and
their bodies would be touching. He peered down at her. “You might want to
reconsider that.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I won't be changing
my mind. I'm not afraid of you.”

“Why?”

“I know you won't hurt me.”

“You're so sure?”

“That I am,” she said.

He grabbed her so fast beneath the arms and swung
her up to dangle in front of his face that she got dizzy. Pain followed, her
head having snapped from the unexpected jolt, shooting a stabbing pain along her
bruise from jaw to cheek.

It was intense, and she tried to fight against it
though doubted she would have any luck.

“Charlotte,” Bryce said anxiously. “What's
wrong?”

“I think—” was all she got out before everything
turned dark and her body went limp.

B
ryce
cradled her wilted body in his arms and cursed himself for his foolish actions.
He should have never grabbed her the way he had. She had been through enough,
suffered enough, and here he was adding to her burden.

Once again, like last evening, he went to the
stream and dipped his hand in the cool water, then sprinkled some on her pale
face, carefully avoiding the bruise that had darkened considerably overnight.
When she didn't immediately respond, he silently cursed his stupidity once
again. It had disturbed him when he had seen the way she had sadly fingered her
hair. He could just imagine how glorious the three distinct shades had looked
when long and tumbling in waves down her back.

He hadn't wanted her to suffer the indignation of
chopping it short once again. Besides, he wanted to see her hair long, feel the
silky strands for himself and . . .

He shook his head, letting his foolish musings
wander off. He had no cause to be thinking such thoughts. Charlotte and he were
on a mission together, and nothing else mattered but that.

With Charlotte tucked safely in his arms, he
returned to the campfire, where he had fish cooking. He continued to cradle her
in his arms as he settled them near the fire. She roused not long after.

“Something smells good,” she said as soon as her
eyes fully opened.

Bryce laughed. “Only you would think about food
instead of asking what happened.”

“I know what happened,” she said. “I fainted yet
again.” She shook her head. “I only faint around you.”

“I have that effect on you, do I?”

Charlotte chuckled softly. “It would seem that
way.”

“Are you all right?” Bryce asked with concern.

“I am,” she said. “It was the jolt that set my
bruise to paining.”

“I am sorry,” he apologized, feeling terrible for
being the cause of her suffering.

“That's all right,” she said. “My da says I can
test the patience of the Lord himself.”

“I think I agree with him.”

Charlotte laughed again. “I believe you and my da
would get along well.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

Charlotte's smile vanished. “Do you think we will
find him?”

“I have no doubt we will,” he said. “We're both
determined.”

She nodded and rested her head against his chest,
as if it were something she had done many times before.

“I would suggest we stay here and allow you to rest
a day—”

She was out of his arms in a blink. “We cannot lose
one day, and I am fine. Besides, more soldiers could be tracking us. We must
keep moving.” She laid her hands on her slim hips and sent him a grin. “Unless
you're too fatigued to go on, old man.”

He shook his head and chuckled though it lacked a
smile. “If it's a challenge you're looking for, be careful. This old man of
seven-and-twenty years has more stamina than a lassie barely familiar with
life.”

She sauntered around the campfire. “Dare you say
now?” She shook her head. “I'd not be spewing claims that have no substance.
What match can you be for the likes of a lassie of only eight-and-ten years? No
doubt I'll be tucking you into bed soon enough.”

Bryce's brow narrowed. “It wouldn't be you who
would do the tucking, my love.”

His implication not only flushed her cheeks bright
red but set a vivid vision racing in her head; Bryce and her completely naked in
bed and him tucking himself deep inside her. Damn if it didn't heat her body and
set it tingling.

Bryce stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in
her ear. “See, I do intimidate you.”

Charlotte went to respond, but his whispered
warning came quicker.

“Open that mouth, and I'll kiss it closed.”

She stilled, part of her not daring to test his
threat and another part aching for him to do so. She kept quiet, reason winning
out over desire this time. Finding her father was far more important than her
craving to be kissed, though she wondered how long before that craving insisted
on being satisfied.

Bryce stepped away from her. “Let's eat and be on
our way. I got fish enough for the both of us. And we won't be having another
meal until we settle for the night.”

It didn't take them long to eat and be on their
way, barely a word spoken between them until well on their journey.

“Do you have a destination in mind?” Charlotte
finally asked from behind him.

Bryce didn't turn. He kept the quick pace he had
set earlier upon departure. “An area more than a destination; we'll need to find
those desperate to barter.

“Desperate for what?”

“Freedom from tyranny,” Bryce said.

“And how do you propose to give them this
freedom?”

“By welcoming them into my clan, where they will be
safe until the true king takes the throne.”

“You gather an army for the true king,” she
said.

“I gather those willing to fight for their
freedom.”

“Joslyn at the village Tine. You offered her a home
with your clan. That's why her smile was so wide.”

Bryce nodded and was about to answer when he heard
a noise.

A sudden scurrying sound halted both of them, and
Bryce reached his hand back, grabbed Charlotte, and yanked her next to him. He
motioned for her to remain close to him, and they cautiously continued on.

They traveled an hour or so longer when they heard
the sound again, only this time the sound didn't stop. It grew louder and louder
as it got closer, and closer and closer. Before Bryce could warn Charlotte to
run, a large animal burst through the trees and lunged itself at Charlotte.

Bryce was quick to draw his sword, but Charlotte
screamed, “Stop.”

He realized then that the animal was a big dog that
was relentlessly licking Charlotte's face. And she was laughing and wincing when
he slobbered his tongue over her bruised cheek.

“You know this huge mutt?” Bryce asked.

“Don't you?” she said between the dog's licks.

“
Odin,
” Bryce said
sharply, and the dog stopped and plopped down beside Charlotte.

She sat up and put her arm around the dog and gave
him a hug. “You escaped Culth, didn't you?”

He answered with a big lick.

Bryce shook his head. “He cannot come with us.”

Charlotte jumped up, and Odin growled as if he
understood.

“He most certainly is coming with us,” she said
with a pat to the dog's head. “He's tracked us all this way, and we will not
leave him on his own.”

“He could have been followed or sent to find us,”
Bryce argued, though he wondered if it was a useless argument. The two already
looked a pair, and he didn't think there would be a chance of separating
them.

“He's much too fast. No one would ever be able to
match his pace,” she insisted. “Besides, you saw how Culth—” Odin growled at the
mention of his name. “See, that answers it for you. He escaped the barbaric
fool.”

Odin barked, as if in agreement.

“So this large mutt suddenly decided to pick a new
master and chose you?”

Charlotte rubbed behind the dog's ear. “He was
waiting for the right person to give his heart to.”

Bryce shook his head, annoyed that she threw his
own words back at him.

“He's here, and he's ours,” Charlotte insisted.
“There's nothing that can be done about it.” She turned and started walking,
Odin following beside her.

Bryce kept shaking his head. The damn dog was
bigger than she when he stood on his hind legs. And what did she mean by
ours.
The dog obviously looked to her as his master,
and he and Charlotte were certainly not a pair, so how could the dog be
ours
?