The Magnificent Rogue (18 page)

He nodded at the mountains. “On the other side we’ll see the sea. We travel a day along the coast, and
we’ll be on MacDarren land, another day and we’ll be at the crossing.”

Relief poured through her. “Then we’re almost there. How long will it take us to get over the mountain?”

“The trail is good. Robert and I have made it before in two days.”

She would soon be quit of this terrible intimacy she had once thought so wonderful. At Craighdhu she could surely find a way to avoid Robert until a year had passed. “A week then?”

Gavin glanced at Caird and then to the gray sky to the north before shrugging uneasily. “If all goes well.”

It couldn’t go worse, Kate thought. Sebastian in all those years had not managed to inflict a wound as deep as the one she had suffered last night. She kicked Rachel into a trot. “Then let’s get on with it.”

The piebald fell to his knees, his sides heaving as he struggled to get thin air into his lungs.

Kate stopped with a low cry, slipped from Rachel’s saddle, and ran back down the trail. It was what she had feared for the past four miles. She could hear Robert’s exclamation but paid no heed as she fell to her knees beside Caird. “No, boy. Not now,” she murmured frantically, stroking the stallion’s nose. “You can’t rest now. Soon, but not now.”

Caird neighed and pushed his nose against her hand.

She could feel tears burn her eyes as she wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck.

“He can’t make it, Kate,” Gavin said gently from behind her. She felt his comforting hand settle on her shoulder. “You can see that for yourself.”

“I don’t see it,” she said fiercely, her grip tightening around the horse’s neck. “He just needs to rest. He’ll be fine once he—”

“We can’t rest,” Gavin said. “You don’t know these mountains. The storm will hit within a few hours, and before dawn the trail could be impassable. We could freeze to death if we’re caught here without shelter.” She heard a metal hissing. “Stand aside, Kate.”

She looked over her shoulder and saw to her horror that he had drawn his sword. He was going to kill Caird. Gavin, who had always been so kind, was going to do this terrible thing. “No! I won’t let you.”

“Do you think I want to do it? We have no choice,” he said unhappily. “Better to kill him now than leave him here to freeze to death.”

She glanced beyond him at Robert, but there was no help there. He sat his horse, silent, impassive, closing her away from him.

“He’s
not
going to freeze to death. I’ll find shelter where he can rest, and he’ll be fine.” She jumped to her feet and grabbed the lead rope. “Come on, Caird. Get up. You have to get up.”

The horse made a valiant try, then faltered and fell again.

“You see?” Gavin asked. “It’s no use.”

“I won’t give him up.” She tugged at the rope. “Both of you go on. I’ll take care of him.”

“We can’t do that. If you stay, you’ll die. Isn’t that right, Robert?”

He did not answer. He just sat there gazing at her with no expression.

His very impassiveness jabbed thorn sharp at her already lacerated emotions. She whirled to face him and spat, “But then, that would solve all your problems. No wife to endanger your Craighdhu, and it would be no fault of yours. Isn’t that true?”

“Quite true,” he said quietly.

“Then leave me.” She turned back to Caird and again began tugging on the rope.

“Robert?” Gavin asked.

He was asking Robert if he should kill Caird, she
realized in panic. All Robert had to do was nod his head and Gavin would—

“Get behind him, Gavin.” Robert was suddenly standing beside her, grabbing the lead rope. “Push, while I pull.” He snapped at Kate, “Talk to him.”

Hope flared within her. He was going to help her. She scrambled out of the way. “Come on, Caird. Come on, boy,” she pleaded. “Just try.”

It took another ten minutes before Caird got shakily to his feet. Robert tossed her the lead rope and remounted his horse. “Keep him on his feet. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

She quickly mounted Rachel. “I’ll keep him going.”

Gavin frowned. “Robert, you know—”

“Of course I know,” Robert interrupted. “That’s why we’re going to try to find shelter before the storm hits.”

“What if we can’t?” Kate asked.

He met her gaze. “Then I’ll cut that horse’s throat myself.”

He meant it. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I won’t let you.”

“You won’t be able to stop me.” He kicked his horse, and the stallion moved up the winding trail.

Fear rippled through her as she watched the unyielding line of his spine. She felt helpless as she hadn’t at the threat Gavin posed. Robert was a much more powerful antagonist, and she knew no plea would move him once he was set on a course. Well, she would face that threat if they failed to find shelter. At least he held out a thread of hope.

They found the cave an hour later. It was hardly more than an indentation in the side of the mountain, perhaps thirty feet deep with a mouth a scant six feet across. To Kate, it looked like paradise.

“Don’t just sit there. Get the horses inside,” Robert told her as he got down from his horse. The wind
whipped the horse’s mane back against his face as he grabbed an ax from his saddlebag.

Kate cast an anxious glance at the roiling, stormy sky to the north. It was much colder now, and the wind had a moist, bitter bite. She slipped from the saddle and grabbed Rachel’s reins and Caird’s lead rope. “What are you going to do?”

“We’ll need wood for the fire and brush to form a barrier to cover the mouth of the cave.” His gaze scanned the vegetation on the steep slope on the side of the trail. “And there’s precious little of either.”

Gavin got down from his horse and pointed to a fallen pine in a stand of trees about a hundred yards down the slope. “That should do for firewood, and those scrawny little trees bordering the trail will do for the barricade. If you’ll take the slope, I’ll cut down those trees along the—”

“No,” Robert said curtly. “Take sufficient food from Caird’s packs to get you down the mountain and be on your way.”

Gavin’s eyes widened in shock. “You want me to go?”

“You heard me,” Robert said. “Without the piebald to hold you back, you’ll be able to move fast enough to reach the foothills before the trail gets impassable.”

“Dammit, I can’t do that,” Gavin said, then tempered his vehemence with a light “You know how I hate to travel alone. And what kind of henchman would I be to leave you in danger and go to safety?”

Robert smiled faintly. “We’ve already discussed what an abysmal henchman you are.”

“But I’m not a coward.”

Robert’s smile vanished. “I never thought you were.”

“So I’ll stay.”

Robert shook his head. “If we’re stranded here for any length of time, our food will run out. You’ll be
much more useful where you can gather supplies and help to rescue us if it becomes necessary.”

Gavin was uncertain. “You think—”

“I don’t have time to argue anymore. Move!” He set out, slipping and sliding on the steep slope as he made his way toward the stand of pines.

Gavin watched him. “I can’t go. He needs me.”

“He’s right, there’s no sense in all of us being stranded here.” She cast a glance at the sky, which seemed to be darkening even more by the second. “It’s coming fast.…” She snatched a blanket from Caird’s pack and said, “If you want to be helpful, take the horses into the cave and unsaddle them before you leave. I’ll help Robert.”

She didn’t wait for him to answer as she slid down the slope toward Robert.

He barely glanced at her, didn’t even stop chopping at the trunk of a fallen tree. “Has he gone?”

“Not yet.” She spread the blanket on the ground. “Pile the wood on this, and I’ll tie the corners and drag it up to the trail.”

He didn’t argue, but began rapidly tossing logs and branches on the blanket.

“Is it true we may be stranded here for some time?”

“Aye, it’s true.”

“Then I want you to go too,” she said haltingly. “Caird is my horse and my responsibility. I must stay, but I wish to put no one else in danger. I will be quite safe by myself.”

He resumed chopping at the log.

“Did you not hear me?”

“I have no more time to argue with you than I did with Gavin.” He swung the ax again, and the blade bit into the wood. “I won’t leave you.”

“Why?”

He didn’t look at her, but his answer echoed her
own words about Caird. “Because you’re my wife and my responsibility.”

A responsibility he had never wished to bear, she thought in an agony of guilt. “It’s not the same.”

“No, that nag of yours sensibly accepts help and doesn’t plague me with conversation.”

He would not be persuaded, she realized in despair. She could only try to add her own strength to help keep them both alive.

In an amazingly short time the blanket was overflowing with wood. He tied the corners and said, “Go.”

She started up the slope, struggling with the heavy burden she was dragging behind her.

“Kate.”

She turned to see Robert looking at her, the hatchet balanced in his hands.

“Make sure Gavin is on his way.”

Gavin, too, was his responsibility, and he was not willing to risk Gavin’s life as he was his own. She nodded and continued up the slope. She stopped at the top, her breasts rising and falling with the harshness of breathing.

Gavin came out of the cave and reached for the blanket. “I’ll take it. The horses are in the cave, and I’ve unsaddled them and unpacked the—”

“You’re not supposed to be here. Leave.” Robert had given her a task, and she would see that it was carried out. “Now.”

He looked taken aback at the fierce determination in her voice. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t—”

“Now!” She dragged the blanket toward the cave. “Robert said you have to go.”

He hesitated and then slowly moved toward his horse. “I’ll give you two days. If the two of you aren’t down by that time, I’m coming back.”

She didn’t answer as she dumped the wood on the
floor of the cave and set off with the blanket down the slope again. When she glanced back at the trail, it was to see Gavin moving at a fast pace up the trail.

She lost count of the trips she made up and down the slope in the next two hours. Robert was working at a furious pace, the hatchet slicing into the wood, the branches flying onto the blanket.

“Enough!” Robert shouted over the wind as she started up the slope. “I have to start cutting down those trees alongside the trail to use as barriers. Stay in the cave out of this wind this time. The trees will be too heavy for you to move.”

She didn’t have the breath to answer as she struggled up the slope, fighting the burden from behind and the buffeting wind from the front. Inside the cave she leaned against the rock wall, fighting the exhaustion clawing at her. Sweet Lord, she wanted to rest. But Robert wasn’t resting. He was fighting the cold and the wind, exerting his strength and his will to keep them alive. She pushed away from the wall and staggered out on the trail again.

Robert was coming up the slope carrying the last load of wood. “I told you to stay in the cave.”

“When you do.”

He threw the load into the cave, then strode to the edge of the trail and began cutting down one of the small, scrawny trees.

The snow had started falling, hard ice-filled pellets that stung more than the wind striking her cheeks.

He shouted, “Dammit, you
can’t
help with this! Go inside.”

She shook her head as she grabbed the tree he had just chopped down and tugged it toward the cave. Though small, it weighed more than she did, and the branches were sharp and thorny. It took her an excruciatingly long time to drag it the short distance to the mouth of the cave. Then she went back and started on the second tree Robert had thrown up onto the trail.
The sharp branches shredded her woolen gloves, and she impatiently took them off and tossed them aside.

By the time she had dragged the fifth tree in front of the cave, it was snowing so hard, she could scarcely see and feel her hands. She was working too slowly, she thought desperately. She couldn’t keep up with him. He had already tossed two more trees on the trail. She had to hurry. Just two more trips and she would—

“Inside!” Robert was beside her. He picked her up, deposited her inside the cave, and then turned to leave.

She took an unsteady step toward him.

“Can’t you understand? It’s almost finished. If you must do something, build a fire. I’m almost frozen.”

He grabbed a wooden bucket and disappeared beyond the swirling veil of snow outside the cave.

She hesitated, trying to think through the weariness dragging at her. What had he wanted her to do? A fire. He was cold and would need a fire. Strange, she was not at all cold anymore. Her fingers had been icy, but now they felt as if they didn’t belong to her as she knelt and began to lay the wood.

It took a long time, and she was vaguely conscious of the tree barrier building at the mouth of the cave as Robert tossed the trees one on top of each other at the entrance.

The wood finally caught fire, and she fanned it furiously. Mustn’t let it go out. Robert was cold and would need—

“Good, you’ve got it lit.” Robert stood just inside the cave, snow glistening on his cloak and dark hair. His arms were filled to overflowing with the ugly brown-black shrub he had called heather. He dumped the load on the floor of the cave and pulled the last barrier in place behind him. “Now, help me fill in the holes between the branches.”

“With that?”

“I told you this had a multitude of purposes.” He began stuffing the heather into the openings. “The snow should freeze it into place and keep the wind out.”

She came forward and tried to help, but she could not seem to make her fingers work.

“No, not up there,” he said, as she reached high with a handful of plants. “We need a small opening to release the smoke and let in the fresh air.” He picked up the blanket she had used to haul the wood and fastened it to one side of the barrier to form a narrow entrance. He frowned as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. “It will have to do.”