She shivered at the memory and he reached for her hand. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess. The storm had turned fierce. Then the river rose out of nowhere and I lost control and hit a tree and slammed my head on the wheel. But I saw the light and made my way to the cottage. And you were here and...” She trailed off, clearly remembering exactly how that had all ended up.
“And I got you warm again,” he finished for her. “So where were you going?” He’d not ask why she’d been alone. If there was a story to tell, she’d do it in her own time. He’d not press her now.
“I was on my way to the castle when the storm hit and the river washed out.”
“The castle?” He frowned.
“Duncreag,” she replied, her pronunciation awkward. “I think you call it a tower.”
“You know Katherine and Iain, then?” The idea appealed. If she knew his cousin then she could not have been sent by his enemies. He hated himself for even having the thought. Her plight had been real, that much he was certain of. And what had passed between them this night was real as well. He pushed his traitorous thoughts aside.
“If you mean the new laird and his wife—“ she said, thankfully unaware of the turn of his thoughts, “—then no. I don’t actually know them. My aunt—well, actually she’s my mother’s best friend—she’s the one who knows them. Or at least some of the people that live there. She arranged for me to come. She thought that maybe the Highlands would be good for me.”
“And how is that turning out for you?” he quipped with a smile, his worries forgotten as his body responded to the memory of their lovemaking.
“I’d have to say that despite a soggy start, really well, so far.” Again she laughed, the joyous sound doing wonders for his tortured heart.
“And what was it that you needed to get away from?” he asked, realizing suddenly that if someone had hurt her, he’d hunt them down to the ends of the earth.
She chewed on her lip, clearly considering how much to tell him, but then she blew out a sigh. “My mother and father were killed in an accident a few weeks ago.”
This was a pain he knew only too well.
“There were complications,” she continued. “More than I could deal with actually. So Valerie, my mom’s friend, suggested I come here.”
“’Tis as good a place as any, I suppose. You’re no’ from the Highlands, I take it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Connecticut.”
’Twas an odd word. “I dinna know it,” he said.
“It’s only a little state and it’s very far from here.” She lay back, and as she did so the silver necklace she wore slipped over her shoulder. He caught it between his fingers.
His heart twisted. ’Twas a wedding ring.
“Is this yours?” he asked, his voice so low that he feared she had not heard the question. He held his breath, waiting, praying that it wasn’t true.
“No.” She shook her head, her gaze locking with his. “Of course not.” There was a multitude of meaning behind her denial, but for the moment he simply accepted the words for what they were, relief washing through him like the western tide. “The ring belonged to my father.” She reached out to take it from him, her thumb caressing the silver band gently. “My mother gave it to him when they were married. I thought if I wore it, I’d feel closer to them somehow.”
“Your father would be honored.”
“I hope so.” Her voice was sad and a little wistful.
“I lost my father, too,” he said before he had time to think about it. He only wanted to help. To make her feel better somehow.
“I’m sorry.” She reached up to touch his face. “I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. Was it recently?”
“Aye.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “’Tis been no more than a se’nnight.” He’d actually lost track of time, between running and hiding.
She frowned. “A week. Oh, Bram, I’m so sorry.” She reached for him, her voice filled with sympathy. “What happened?”
Bram swallowed, the bitterness rising in his chest. “He was murdered.”
“Oh my God. How awful.” Her fingers twined with his. “I don’t know what to say. Do you know who did it?”
“No’ for sure, but I have an idea.” The words felt ripped from his chest.
“Someone you knew then?”
