Finding My Highlander (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Kendrick watched the explosion unfold, reluctant to intercede at first. A spitfire to her core, he couldn’t help but admire Andra’s tenacity. At the same time, he wanted to smash Struan’s face for daring to touch his woman.
His woman?
He shook his head and refocused.

Standing behind her, a grave expression on his face he commanded, “Release the lass, Struan.” His voice demanded an immediate response.

“She is a wild one, I’ll grant you that, but what she says has merit. I have seen another use this method to revive someone who had fallen into water. And look, the girl recovers her breath,” he said, gesturing toward Senga who continued to cough and shiver; her little brother crouched next to her, patting her back with his small hands.

When Struan set Andra on the ground and released his hold, she stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her face. A childish expression likely intended to relieve her anxiety. To everyone’s surprise, Struan made a similar face back at her. Half a breath later, they all burst out laughing. Struan, who rarely smiled except at the bairns, startled everyone with his antics, and the tension dissipated like the rivulets of water dripping from Andra’s clothes. Finally, she collapsed flat on the muddy bank spent and unmoving.

Young Kyle pleaded, “Will ye not help me move Senga so she won’t fall in the water again?” Rabbie and Struan guided the children away and Lorne followed.

Exasperated, Kendrick ran his hands through his wet hair shaking his head. “Are you mad, woman? What am I to do with you? First, you run off in the night toward the smell of smoke and rescue children from men intent on murder and mayhem, and then you jump into a raging river. De you think you are invincible, lass?” Actually, his chest swelled with pride. She behaved as bravely as any warrior, but far too recklessly for her own good. God’s bones, how he desired her.

“Then you attack and challenge Struan’s wits and sense. For a moment, I feared Struan would do you harm, and I’d have to injure one of my best men in your defense. What possesses you, Andra?”

“Possesses me? Urrrgh, not you too.” Andra sat up, slinging mud from her hands, eyeing him with a serious expression. “Would you really injure Struan in my defense?”

Kendrick didn’t answer, not certain he wanted to pursue where this discussion might lead. She tilted her head with a deeply creased brow, “I know he doesn’t trust me, but I’ll not stand for him calling me a witch when all I’ve done is help. There are no such things as witches. It’s just idiotic, superstitious nonsense.”

“Aye, we’re in agreement there, but you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met. Surely, you understand why others might harbor suspicions. Even with me, you continue to hold your secrets.” The fact that people were superstitious and willing to cast aspersions far too readily concerned him and didn’t bode well for her future. Too many questions remained unanswered, but he did not consider her a witch. She made herself an easy target though, and trouble would find her like the truest arrow.

He helped her up and brushed away the mud and debris from her soaking wet clothes, which clung seductively to her firm figure. The feel of her under his hands tempted him. When she tried to step away, she winced in pain and fell against him in an attempt to gain her balance.

Holding her steady, he noticed blood pooling at her feet. “Och, you’re bleeding.” In one swift motion, he lifted her into his arms. A full erection rose under his plaid the minute he pressed her against his chest. Willing his thoughts to her injuries and not his desire to plunge into her wet folds, he carried her to dry grass.

* * *

Andra clutched his neck and rested her face against his shoulder. She could feel his erection press into her hip. Her mind turned to their encounter the night after she had rescued the children, and liquid heat surged to her core with want for the man. Without a doubt, she would repeat that coupling in a heartbeat, but not in the middle of the day surrounded by all these people.

What was wrong with her?
She had nearly drowned, been called a witch—again, faced down a gruff warrior, and all she wanted to do was tear off their clothing and let Kendrick smother her with his mouth and pound into her until all the fear and uncertainty disappeared under his searing touch. Based on the hardness pressing against her, he might be of a same mind.

The children returned to sit with Andra, each holding a hand. Concern creased their foreheads while Kendrick washed and wrapped her feet in strips of linen.

“Senga, we must remove these wet clothes before you become ill. Rabbie, please bring my bag and we’ll see what we can find for Senga.” He complied without question.

She pulled out her washed, but sadly stained heather-colored sweater and the matching cashmere pashmina. Maybe one of the women at the castle could help her remove the faded bloodstains. They must have a lot of experience with that type of stain.

“Give us a moment of privacy, please.” The men turned to break camp and ready the horses. Quickly, she stripped the girl out of her clothes and pulled the sweater over her head. She wrapped the pashmina around her waist like a skirt and flipped the end over her shoulder like a great kilt then belted it all together, successfully hiding most of the stains.

“There now, you’re dry and look as lovely as a field of heather,” she said, smiling at the girl. Senga squeezed her hand but did not look into her eyes.

“‘Tis true sister, yer verra bonny.” Kyle stood and took his sister’s hand, then bent over and kissed Andra on the cheek.

Tears welled in her eyes and she nearly choked on her words. “Rabbie, do you have a dry plaid to wrap around Senga? We need to keep her warm.”

He came to take the children, soothing them with softly spoken Gaelic.

Kendrick leaned against a tree observing Andra as she administered to the children. His presence agitated her more than she wished to acknowledge and her attempt to ignore his serious perusal failed completely. She could hear his breathing, smell his scent, feel his every glance, and she needed to redirect her thoughts immediately. She reached to pull on her boots and hissed in pain.

He moved to her side, “Leave them off. It will not do to have your feet swell inside the leather. And speaking of getting out of wet clothes, you need to do the same.”

“Yes, of course,” she unwound the soaked silk scarf from her neck and removed a dry shirt from her bag. When she tried to raise her arm, she yelped in pain.

Kendrick dropped to his knees. “What pains you?” He ran his strong hands around her neck, across her shoulders and down her arms, applying mild pressure. He lifted her arms away and moved his hands down her sides, hesitating for a split second when they slipped past her breasts. When he touched the side previously injured when she’d crushed the Plexiglas box after her tumble through time, she cried out in pain.

“Lie down,” he commanded, his voice full of concern. He leaned her back to the ground. Without asking, he pulled up her shirt and examined her side.

Andra could barely catch her breath and it was not due to the injury. His rough hands sparked tiny pinpoints of fire where he touched and probed. She wanted those fingers probing elsewhere and could not get a coherent word past her lips.

“You’ve reinjured your ribs, and mayhap cracked a few. We best bind you to prevent further injury.” He helped remove her shirt and said not a word about the pink, satin bra but he took a long moment to slide his gaze over her breasts and she noticed his kilt tent between his legs. He positioned his back to shield her from the men and bound her ribs in strips of linen torn from his own shirt. Then he helped her don her last clean, dry shirt. “Do ye think ye can ride, lass?”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding more certain than she felt. If he kept this up, he’d not have a strip of linen remaining on his shirt. The heat from his hands at her waist made her ache for him, and his deep, blue eyes seared her. If she gazed into those liquid pools, he would see her unfettered desire.

She averted her face and dipped her head to the side, “Thank you, Kendrick. I think I’ll manage well enough. Could you bring my cape, please?” He rose swiftly and walked away, taking the heat of the world with him.

* * *

If his men and the children were not waiting for them, he would have taken her right there, wet and aching. He would have claimed her as his own and plunged his burgeoning member deep into her heat. He needed to rein in his emotions before this rampant desire caused him to do something he might regret. That first encounter was one thing, a bit of battle lust on both of them, but he still knew nothing about the woman.

Kendrick fussed with his horse taking a moment to allow his arousal to abate. When he returned to Andra, he lifted her off the grass and set her back on his horse. When he tied her boots to the saddle, he again took note of their quality.

“These boots are verra fine and the precise stitching and material of the soles is not like any I’ve seen before.” He waited for her to say something, but her focus was on some distant place. She always avoided talking when he commented on her clothing or the jewelry she wore. Why would she not trust him just a wee bit—tell him something, anything meaningful to dispel his doubts?

In a short while, the river fanned out and split around a small island. The current had slowed to a gentle meandering making it an easy place to cross the horses.

Andra, nestled against his chest, glanced around. “This is a beautiful glen, the faded heather and clumps of golden-amber grass sway like gentle waves on a sighing sea,” she said.

Kendrick joined her perusal of his land. “Aye, we are on MacLean lands now. ‘Tis the most beautiful spot in all the Highlands.” He didn’t bother to suppress his pride. The closer he drew to his home, the more he could feel the stress from the last days slip away.

Andra started to shiver. “Are ye cold, Andra?”

“I’m fine,” but her jaw clenched in an effort to keep her teeth from chattering. “How much farther before we reach your castle?”

“Not far, we’ll be there in a few hours.” Kendrick pulled his plaid around her shoulders.

“Mmmm, you are so warm.” She snuggled against him and a surge of possessiveness swelled in his chest. Sleep finally dragged her under its forgiving veil, and she relaxed into his embrace.

Looking down at her plump mouth slightly parted as a light snore escaped her throat; he felt an urgent need to shelter and comfort her. He found her beauty beguiling, evident even while covered in dirt and debris; but her gentle and fierce protection of the children held him in thrall. Her willingness to face difficulties with strength and offer help to strangers at her own peril surprised him. Something in his chest thrummed and kicked. “
Mine,”
his mind shouted.

After a while, Lorne pulled beside his brother and spoke in a quiet voice. “Almost home, brother. It looks like fatigue has finally claimed the lass. What do ye plan to tell our parents and the clan about her? The clan’s not likely to welcome a Cameron, you ken.”

“I have sworn my protection. That will be enough for anyone to ken for now. I’ll discuss things with Da and Mother. Mayhap they’ve heard of her father or kin.” Kendrick changed the subject, “How do you feel brother? You’ve said little on the ride.”

“I’ve been worse. Those tablets Andra gives me help considerably. I’m certain I could not have made it without them. I thank you brother for allowing her ministrations. Perhaps the fairy folk dropped her in our midst to aid with my recovery. She’s a fine, bonny lass, and if I weren’t betrothed, you’d have a fight for her affections.”

Kendrick clicked his tongue, “Och, what affections do you speak aboot, you daft fool. Aye, she is bonny enough, but you well ken I’m not looking for an attachment. Besides, you’ll have your hands full with your own sweet Edana. Need I remind you she anxiously awaits your return? One lovely lass should be enough to keep you quite busy.”

Lorne laughed at his brother. “Your discomfort speaks louder than words, brother. I haven’t seen a woman penetrate your cool reserve in a long time. Don’t bother to deny that you’ve already formed an attachment to her.”

Kendrick cast him a stern look but didn’t argue the point.

During the last hours of their ride, a crash of thunder rumbled overhead and lighting opened the night sky. By the time they finally crossed the drawbridge and entered the lower bailey, it was already full dark and the weary travelers were drenched.

John had ridden ahead and advised Lady Beatrice of her family’s approach. She stood regally at the keep’s entrance beside her exuberant daughter, Isabel. Several stable lads grabbed the horses’ reins as the men and their passengers dismounted and climbed the steps to the keep.

When Kendrick tried to wake Andra, she moaned but did not open her eyes. As he wiped the hair from her face, panic gripped him.

“Rabbie, let me hand Andra to you, she’s burning with fever.” People died every day of slight fevers and she had been through one shocking trial after another since they had first found her.

He jumped from his horse and took her back into his arms taking the steps to the keep two at a time. He kissed his mother’s cheek in greeting still clutching Andra tight to his chest. “Could you send the healer to my chambers immediately? The lass burns with fever.”

Despite the late hour, the keep buzzed with activity. His mother issued orders to her maids and told Isabel to return to her own chambers. “I’ll not have you felled by fever as well, child.”