The Clan MacDougall Series (104 page)

Nora’s eyes flew open. “John! I tried, I tried many times to get to you!”

“I don’t believe you!” he spat at her.

Nora was unable to hold her temper in check. She was worn out, hungry, exhausted and cold. John may have gone through hell this past year, but she had been living in her own nightmare.

“Do you think
you’re
the only one with scars, John? Do you think I’ve been living a life of luxury this past year?” her words were biting, angry, and she did not care how incensed she sounded for that is how she felt.

“I’ve scars too, John! Do you not even care how my eye became blackened, John? Do you not wonder? I’ve got bruises that you cannot see for my clothes cover them. I’ve got scars too, from the hands of a man who-” she choked on the tears that seemed to have lodged in her throat. “’Twasn’t just you living a nightmare, for I lived my own!”

She wished she could slide from the horse and run, run until she had no breath left in her. She wanted to hide so none would see her guilt, her shame, and her humiliation. She wanted no one’s pity at the moment, but that is what she saw in the eyes of Daniel, David and Wee William. Embarrassed by her own behavior, she turned away and wiped her face with the fur. She hadn’t said the things she did to gain any sympathy from them. Her intent had been only to let John know that he hadn’t been the only one to suffer.

“I am sorry for my outburst,” she whispered.

Wee William had been watching her intently. His heart ached with learning she too had scars and that there were more bruises than those he could see on her face. Silently, he cursed Horace to the bowels of Hell and beyond. A large part of him wanted to hand Nora over to Daniel and David and head back to Penrith to see if Rowan and Black Richard had actually killed the man. If they hadn’t, he would do it himself.

“No worries, lass,” he whispered. “I think we need to find some shelter for the night.” Wee William looked up at the sky. Night was quickly approaching, and from the dark clouds to the north of them, it looked as though more snow was on the way.

John’s cracking voice broke through the silence. “Nora,” he said softly. “I am sorry.”

Nora cleared her throat before speaking. “I know John, and I am too. I am only doing what I must to make certain we can stay together, as a family, and not be torn apart again.” She finally looked up at him. “I couldn’t bear it again, to lose either one of you.”

John’s jaw clenched and he took a deep breath in through his nostrils. “I know you are. But are you certain we have no other choice but
Scotland?
” he said it as if the word had a bitter taste simply by speaking it.

“John, we truly have nowhere else to turn. If I could bring our father back, I would. If I could change the past two years, I would. This is the only way I know that we can be together, as a family, and not be torn asunder.”

John took another cleansing breath before looking at the stoic faces of the men around him. He had to admit that these men had shown him more kindness in the past several hours than anyone had shown him in the past two years since his father’s death. But that didn’t mean he had to enjoy their company or the thought of living in Scotland of all places. He made a solemn vow that he’d go with Nora for now, but he would never call Scotland home. And as soon as he was able, he’d go back to England, where he belonged. With or without his sisters.

T
hey had been traveling far too many hours to count but finally arrived on Scottish soil without any signs of English soldiers following. Without Nora and the children, Wee William and his men would have stopped less and rode faster.

Wee William and his men had passed through this wild territory on their journey south two days ago. Now that they were in more familiar territory, Wee William, David and Daniel felt more energized and hopeful. They knew they were not far from the hunting hut they had stumbled upon earlier. God willing, they’d reach it before the snow began to fall.

Apparently, the good Lord was not inclined to allow them a snow free passage. Large, feathery snowflakes began to fall long before they reached their destination. They picked up speed as best they could and veered northeast in search of the place they’d call home for the night.

The sky had just begun to grow dark when they crested the large hill. The small hut was built into the side of the hill. It would be tight quarters, but at least they’d be warm and out of the weather.

David and John saw to the horses, giving them shelter in the small barn. Dusting snow from their furs and clothing, Daniel and Wee William took Nora and Elise into the tiny mud hut. It was one large room, with a small table and two chairs that sat against one wall. Wee William was more than relieved to find a good stack of wood piled against the wall near the brazier.

They set blankets and furs around the brazier. Nora and Elise stayed huddled together, shivering and exhausted while the men started the fire. Within no time, the chill in the air was replaced by gloriously warm heat and the bits of snow that still clung to their clothes began to melt. Little puddles of melted snow dotted the floor.

They ate a simple meal of bannocks, cheese and more dried figs. Nora wouldn’t allow Elise to eat too many of the figs for fear they’d spend the following day finding one tree after another.

Once their stomachs were full and their bodies finally began to thaw, John fell asleep sitting up while Elise dozed peacefully on Nora’s lap. Wee William took the worn out, sleeping child from Nora and tucked her into a pallet nearby then covered her with a warm fur. Nora gently nudged John and helped him into a spot next to Elise.

Once the children were settled, Nora went back to her spot by the fire. Wee William opened up the fur he had draped around himself and offered her to join him. She eyed him peculiarly for a moment.

A sweet smile came to William’s lips. “Lass, yer exhausted beyond words. Come sit by the fire and warm yerself.”

She hesitated for a moment before deciding warmth was more important than any required social etiquette. She was, after all, a widow now. Protocol be damned. She was cold.

Nora settled herself in next to Wee William, amazed at the amount of heat his body offered. She wondered for a moment if he didn’t have a fever.

Wee William draped the fur around her shoulders and resisted allowing his arm the same good fortune. They sat quietly, staring at the flames in the brazier, lost for a time, in their own thoughts.

“When should we arrive at your home, William?” Nora asked, yawning wide and rubbing her tired eyes.

“It depends on the weather, lass. If we’re lucky, I’d say in four days.”

Nora nodded and took in a slow, deep, cleansing breath and yawned again. Her eyelids were heavy with fatigue, her rear end sore from hours and hours of riding, and every muscle in her body ached. She stretched her back a bit and winced from a sharp pain that shot down her leg. She didn’t know if she would survive four more days on the back of a horse.

“I fear yer not used to being atop a horse any more than yer brother,” Wee William said, noting the slight painful expression on her face whenever she moved.

She giggled softly in agreement. “Aye, that is true. Until today, I’d only been on a horse one other time in my life, and that was many years ago and just a short ride. But I’m not complaining! I’m sure I’ll get used to it after a time.”

She imagined it would take years to get used to it. Riding looked far easier than it actually was. She was determined not to complain or otherwise make their journey north uncomfortable with grievances.

Wee William smiled at her as he retrieved a flask from inside his cloak. He removed the lid before handing it to Nora.

She raised a curious brow. “What is it?” she asked speculatively.

“A wee bit of the chief’s best, lass. It’ll help ease yer aches and allow ye to sleep.”

“And what, pray tell, is the chief’s best?” she asked as she stared at the flask.

Daniel and David laughed softly, enjoying the look of uncertainty on Nora’s face. “It be the best whiskey in all the land, lass,” David told her.

Nora’s sleepy eyes widened with more uncertainty. “I’ve never drank whiskey before,” she told them. “I’ve heard it’s quite strong.”

“Aye, that it is lass. But it’ll cure what ails ye,” Wee William said, offering her the flask again.

At home Nora would have brewed tea to help settle her nerves and ease her aches. She doubted these Highlanders were in possession of any of the strappings necessary to make tea.

For a moment, she wondered what Horace would think of her sitting here with all these wild looking men, being treated with kindness and dignity, wrapped up in a fur sitting next to the biggest man she’d ever laid eyes on, while she considered taking a sip of whiskey. She hoped he was rolling around in his grave.

Throwing all caution to the wind, she accepted the offered flask and took a deep drink.

Her eyes watered, her throat burned and constricted, and for a brief moment, she thought her innards had caught fire. She choked and spat while she tried to catch the breath that had been stolen from her.

The men laughed at her, her embarrassment hidden behind the spectacle she was making of herself.

When she finally got her choking under control, she tried to speak, but the words couldn’t come. Flames burned her throat. Finally, she managed. “Good Lord! That would etch iron!”

The men chuckled, not so much in agreement, but at her red face and watering eyes.

“But do ye feel better, lass?” Daniel asked with a tinge of hopefulness to his voice.

Nora breathed in through her nose and was about to tell him to go to the devil when she realized the fire had subsided and had turned to calming warmth that spread to her toes. Holding her first impression of the awful liquid at bay, she gave a quick nod of her head before taking another pull at the flask. This time, she was careful to sip it and not drink it as if it were water.

She let out a contented sigh. “Aye, Daniel, I must admit I do feel warmer. And the pain in me back isn’t so bad.” Nora hadn’t realized she had taken on a bit of the Scottish brogue until the men burst out laughing again.

When their laughter finally subsided, Wee William took the flask from her. “Ye don’t want to overdo it on yer first round, lass. I think it’s best ye try to sleep now.”

Nora did not possess the energy to argue. She felt warm, sleepy, and very much at ease and the ache in her muscles was beginning to subside. She bade them all a good night and lay down where she was, taking the fur with her, pulling it away from Wee William.

The last thing she remembered before exhaustion claimed her was the sound of soft chuckles and crackling flames, and the warm sensation of being safe.

As the gentle snowfall turned into a quiet late winter storm, a storm was brewing inside Wee William’s heart. He had volunteered to keep first watch and tried to enjoy the quiet that had fallen inside the small hut. He added a few more branches to the brazier and the flames fluttered upwards for a time before settling back down.

Wee William looked around the room. His men were fast asleep, snoring quietly. The children were huddled together under warm furs. Little Elise had the look of a cherub while young John, even in his sleep, looked serious and brooding.

When his eyes fell to Nora, he could not block the sensation that warmed him to his bones. Her long dark tresses were pulled back and disappeared under the dark fur. The warm light of the fire cast an ethereal glow to her beautiful face. Long, dark lashes feathered against skin that had been kissed tenderly by the sun.

As he sat in the quiet of the night, he watched the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders and felt certain he had lost his mind. Quietly, he ran through all the events that had led up to this quiet moment in time. ’Twas those blue eyes of hers, that had been his undoing.

Mayhap if her eyes weren’t such a pale blue he would not have been as drawn to her. He tried imagining her with green eyes, or brown, or hazel like his own. As the time passed, he realized it would not have mattered what color they were. In truth, it was what lay
behind
them.

In those first brief moments, back at the cottage, her eyes had stolen his breath away. Aye, one was swollen and black, but the other, the one undamaged by the ugly hands of Horace Crawford, had unraveled his senses. Such a fleeting brief moment it had been, but in that small span of time, he saw fear and terror, and some niggling voice in the back of his mind had said
take that fear away.

Wee William grunted quietly as he took a deep breath. Aye, he had lost his mind, ’twas no question about it. He was trying to convince himself that it was simply the fact that she needed his help that made him feel so drawn to her.

He was getting older, way past the age when most men were married and filling homes with bairns. In less than two years he would turn thirty. Mayhap his body was telling him it was time to settle down, build a home, take a wife, and make lots of babes.

He had been tempted, years ago, to have that life. Had even gone so far as to propose to a young woman he thought he’d been in love with. However, she had broken his heart and he swore to himself and anyone else that would listen, that he’d never be tempted to make such a mistake again.