Highland Sons: The Mackay Saga (16 page)

She wondered if she had made a fatal mistake.

Fiona shivered as she trudged up the mountain. The storm had let up about an hour before, but now that night had fallen, stealing the last heat of the day, the chill had become almost unbearable.

Her feet ached and against her skin, her damp clothes chafed. She’d had nothing to eat or drink for hours and her stomach grumbled in angry protest.

Ahead, lights glittered in the dark, a beacon toward the haven of a nearby town. Someone might take pity on her and give her something to drink. A cup of water would cost them nothing.

A rider on a large, dark horse materialized out of the darkness, like a devil or a wraith. His face was protected from dust by a bandana, and he wore a large ten-gallon hat. She lifted her hand to him, but he sped past her without taking notice. He didn’t even slow. That is, until the big black horse abruptly stopped and turned.

The man yanked down the bandana, and even in the dark, she recognized Cameron in the lines of his body.

“My God, what are you doing out
here
, Fiona?”

Before she even had the chance to explain, he wrapped her in an embrace so tight it stole the breath from her lungs.

Threading his hands into her damp hair, he pressed her head to his chest. Through his shirt, she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart. Heat poured from his body, and she shook violently as she absorbed his warmth. She had been cold for too long.

He leaned back and kissed her. She closed her eyes and ignored the pain of bruised skin and split lips. She had so little, but right now—and maybe only for this moment—she had him.

“Fiona.”

She opened her eyes.

He had moved her hair away from her face and was studying her intently. Taking her chin, he maneuvered her head back and forth, as if seeking more light. His fingers traced a line over her cheek and her nose, the pad of his thumb touching her lip carefully, then he hissed a breath. Without another word, he stripped off his duster and draped it over her shoulders.

She stepped away, but didn't take off his coat.

“What happened to you?” His voice was tight.

Allowing her hair to fall forward to conceal her wounds, she said, “Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

Even in the dim light, Fiona saw the muscles work as he clenched his jaw. He pursed his lips into a tight line, his nostrils flaring.

When she didn't respond to him, he growled, “Get on Midnight.”

“Cameron. . .”

“Do I have to tell you again, or am I going to have to put you on that horse myself?”

Startled by the anger in his voice, she gasped. “You wouldn't.”

“You don't think?” Cameron ground out, and she took a step back. “Goddammit, Fiona! I'm sick of the lies. I'm sick of all of this. Just get on the damn horse!”

He was angry. Of course he was angry. She'd disappeared without so much as a by-your-leave, and the heirloom she'd stolen from him had disappeared with her.

“No.”

Cameron didn't say a word as he grabbed her hand and yanked her in the direction of his horse. Was silent as he lifted her off her feet and dumped her onto his horse. Didn't wait for her to adjust before he threw himself up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body.

Cameron put his heels to horse, and Midnight took off at a breakneck pace. Fiona struggled to find her seat

“Slow down. I'm going to fall!”

His breath was warm against her ear. “I won't let you.”

The horse's hooves pounded against the wet, rocky earth as they made their way up to Gold Hill, and Fiona was surprised by how quickly they got there. Cameron dismounted outside the hotel and tethered the horse to a post.

His hands were strong and warm as he helped her down from Midnight. “Come inside and get warm.”

“I'm not cold,” she said. It wasn't a lie anymore.

“You're shaking.”

“Doesna mean I'm cold.”

He took off his hat and raked his hands through his hair. He was silent for a long time, the only sound the tinny music of a piano being played inside. “Tell me what happened to you.”

“It doesna matter.”

“It does to me.”

“What do you want me to say? That Seamus hit me? Would that make this better?” Her heart stuttered and she wrapped her arms around her body to keep herself from shaking.

“He should pay for what he’s done to you.”

“Who’s gonna make him? You?”

“Damn right, I will.”

“How?”

“I’ll take him to the sheriff. Have him prosecuted for hurting you.”

“I’m a gypsy and so is he. At least he’s a man. Who’s going to believe a gypsy woman? Especially one like me.” Tears pricked her eyelids again, but she refused to let them fall this time. She wasn’t broken. Yet.

“What do you mean, one like you?”

She shivered again, and tightened his duster around herself. His scent rose from the fabric, the smell of linen dried in the summer sun, leather and male.

If she died right now, the pain would all be worth it.

But she didn’t, which meant she had to face the ugly truth of what she was and what she had become.

“I’m a fortune-teller. A witch. A pickpcket. A thief. I've been called worse, even.”

She retreated from him. He made no move toward her, but he didn’t recoil in horror at her admission either. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest. “Go on.”

“No' enough? I steal and I lie and I cheat. I’m no’ sure I would know the truth if it bit me on the nose. While Seamus is no better than I am, he’s no worse, either.”

Her stomach knotted, her throat burning as the truth spilled from her. She had never felt so alone. He would leave her.

He cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheek gently with his thumbs. “Fiona, no one deserves what he did to you.” He took her hands in his, turned them up, and caught sight of the raw, broken flesh. She’d plucked the prickers from her palms, but the wounds still stung. His eyes returned to her face, and she knew he was studying her bruises.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I fell from the wagon.”

Huffing a bitter breath, he looked away and stared into the space behind her head. “Don’t you think I deserve the truth?”

Tears formed in her eyes, and she willed them not to fall. “Aye.” She paused for a moment as she considered her next words. “I may have fallen off the wagon because Seamus pushed me off.”

As if her admission caused
him
pain, he closed his eyes. “Why?”

The tears she’d been holding at bay began to fall. “I said I wanted out of the band. Seamus didn’t like it. When I didn’t back down, he banished me.”

Cameron gathered her up in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. His chest rose and fell as he drew a long, slow breath. “You’ll never have to go back there again.”

Guilt slammed into her all over again. “Couldn’t if I wanted to. Anyone who showed me any mercy would be banished with me.” Strange, how much those words wounded her. For years, she’d wanted out, but not this way. Not in humiliation and shame.

She’d never intended to leave with nothing.

“That’s harsh.”

Fiona shrugged. “It’s the way Seamus runs his band, and my husband before him. All loyalty must lie with the band.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, since I’m out.”

His boyish, lopsided smile tugged on her heart. “I’m glad you are.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don't we go inside. We can get a room for the night here before heading back up to Virginia City.”

She wanted nothing more, but she couldn’t do this with him just yet. Tired and cold, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and sleep, but she needed to tell him the truth first. “Cameron . . .”

“Trust me, Fiona.”

Closing her eyes briefly, she considered those words. Trust. She wasn’t even sure she knew what the word meant. How could she give him what she didn’t deserve and really didn’t understand?

He looped his arm around her shoulders. So strong, so masculine, yet gentle and tender, too. She leaned into him, trying to absorb some of his strength, before she stepped away. Gesturing to the landscape around her, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I came for you, sweet.”

“For me?”

He frowned into the darkness and shifted his weight uncomfortably. “When I found out you had left town, I couldn’t think of anything but getting to you. I saddled up Midnight. Gambled on the direction you folks would take down the mountain. People saw the caravan as you passed through Gold Hill, so I knew I was on the right path.”

He turned her to face him and gently stroked her cheek, his thumb brushing against the bruise she knew was blossoming across her cheekbones. “I had no idea I’d find you on the road.”

“You came for me?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He scowled, and it became clear he had no intention of answering her question. Instead, he countered, “I found you alone on the road. Why?”“

“I told you. Because I left my band.” Sometimes, the simplest answers were the best—and the most truthful.

“Again, why?”

“Why did I leave?” When he nodded, she blew out a breath. “Because ‘tis no’ who I am, anymore. At least, ‘tis no’ who I want to be.”

“Then who are you?”

I’m yours
. But instead of voicing the thought, she said, “Maybe I should start with who I was.”

He inclined his head—less than an agreement than an acknowledgment. “Go on.”

“I . . . I don’t know where to start.” He opened his mouth to say something, but she waved his words away. “No, no. Let me tell it.” She took a deep breath and pretended he held her while she told him the ugly truth. Swallowing hard, she began. “I was the girl you danced with at the dance hall.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to take it, Cameron. See, I’m a thief, but I’m no’ a fool. I knew the moment I met you that you were a poor mark. I’d only steal from you if you were blind drunk, and maybe no’ even then.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away, but not before she saw the hurt in his eyes. His posture stiff and guarded, he said, “You took my family ring.”

She nodded slowly. “I did.”

“And what did you do with it?” His voice was casual, as if he didn’t care, and she might have believed him if she hadn’t known how much he had sacrificed for the sake of the family legacy.

The fact he wouldn’t meet her eyes stung her more than she cared to admit. “By the laws of the band, I have to give everything over to Seamus. He’s the band’s leader. Everything I have, everything I am, belongs to him.”

His gaze, stern and cold, slid to her face briefly before sliding away again. In his pockets, she could see his hands were balled into fists. “And did you?”

“No’ at first, no,” she hedged. The guilt and the shame washed over her and she allowed herself to experience those emotions for the first time in her life. She didn’t push them away and she didn’t ignore them. “The ring belonged with me. So I hid it from him until today.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to give it back to me? Even after what happened last night, you didn’t trust me enough to give it back?”

Tears threatened her again, but she didn’t allow them to fall. She wanted Cameron’s forgiveness, not his pity. “What I did had nothing to do with last night.” At the look of disbelief Cameron gave her, she added, “Okay, maybe it did, a little. I had every intention of giving it back, but then . . . well, things happened between us, and I guess I forgot.”

“You forgot.” His voice was dull and quiet.

She cast about for the words to make this whole situation right, and she couldn’t find any. “I know this sounds bad. I meant to give it back. I wish I had.”

He opened his mouth, and she held up her hand again to keep his words at bay. “No, I’m almost finished. I was going to give it back when I saw you tonight. I was. But then, I went to my hotel room, and Seamus was there. He accused me of spending the night with you. He’d even spent the night in my hotel room, so he knew I hadn’t been there. He hit me. I dinna give it to him. I gave him everything else, and it wasn’t enough. I had the ring in my pocket. When he searched me, he found it.”

Fury wreathed Cameron’s features, and she knew she deserved his hatred, the loathing she saw in his eyes. He slowly released his breath. “Did he . . . did he touch you?”

She flinched as if he’d struck her. “N-no.”

“You’re not lying to me?” The anger in his voice unnerved her.

“No. I am so sorry, Cameron.” Desperation leeched into her tone, despite her best efforts. “It made me sick to see him hold it. I wanted to do something, anything, to get it back for you. Because I know how much your family legacy means to you.” She reached for him desperately, aching to touch him, to give him comfort.

He caught her hands in his and held them tight. Not bringing her in closer, but not pushing her away, either. “Fiona, I wish you understood just how much—”

“I
know
,” she interrupted, and the pain in her chest intensified. “When Seamus took the ring, I hated myself for letting him have it. I couldn’t think of anything but getting it back. It killed me he even touched it.”

He took a step away from her.

“You still don’t understand,” he muttered.

“I should have given it back when I had the chance.” She moved toward him. “But I didn’t, because I’m a coward. And the moment I lost it, I wanted to get it back.”

Cameron rubbed his forehead as if exhausted. “This isn’t about the ring, Fiona. In the beginning, maybe, but not anymore.” Taking her by the shoulders, he said, “Don’t you understand? I
knew
you had it.”