“Ye dinna ken any decent men to ken this is exactly how a mon with honor protects any woman.” Eoin’s booted foot landed against Domnall’s ribs. “Keep talking, and I will change ma mind. I will kill ye and leave ye to the wolves.”
Domnall Forbes saw his life flash before his eyes just before Eoin’s boot plowed into his face. He had no choice but to be silent as everything went black around him. Eoin was grateful for the blessed silence as his control had evaporated just before his foot connected with Domnall’s face. He would have killed him and not experienced a moment’s remorse. Instead, he ordered two of his men to carry Domnall to their horses.
Eoin’s order had been to wound or maim the Forbes men, and they had succeeded. The barrage of arrows killed only one of the two dozen men. The rest suffered wounds that weren’t fatal. The men Eoin had set on watch discovered the Forbes’ horses before the Forbes leader attacked Cairstine. They’d already pilfered the bows and were on their way back to camp. As soon as they heard Cairstine’s scream, they tossed the bows and quivers to their fellow guardsmen, and the lot rushed through the woods on the defensive. It was the only bit of luck Eoin had in a dreadful situation. Without the bows and arrows, they wouldn’t have so easily defeated the attackers since the Forbes outnumbered the Grants and Gordons four to one. When he’d spotted Cairstine being held at knifepoint, he’d wanted to rage like an angry bull, but he wasn’t willing to further endanger her. He walked in a large circle until he felt calm enough to return to camp.
Chapter Fifteen
Cairstine’s eyes were riveted to the trees as she waited for Eoin to emerge. Bram had directed her to sit on a log near the fire, but when she spotted Eoin, she dashed toward him. His arms opened to her, and once more she launched herself into his embrace. She clung to him, relieved he returned in one piece without a visible nick or scratch. Eoin’s hands ran over her body, checking for injuries he hadn’t had time to look for when he pulled her away from Domnall.
“I’m truly unharmed, Eoin. I promise. What aboot you?”
“He never had a chance to touch me. Let me see your throat.” Eoin led them to the fire, where he turned Cairstine so the light shone on her neck. There was a tiny mark where the tip pressed against her skin, but there was no injury. He ran his thumb over the spot as his palm cradled her neck and his fingers rubbed away the tension. Eoin confessed, “I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”
“Frightened? You sounded calm and in control.”
“I felt aught but. When I couldn’t see you, then heard your scream, I feared my heart would stop. Then finding you in Domnall’s grip, I’ve never wanted to kill someone more. The control I’ve always had before battle never happened. If I hadn’t been so concerned that charging Domnall would’ve gotten you killed, I would’ve plowed into him and beaten him until he drew his last breath.”
“I was scared too, but I knew you’d come for me. I forced myself not to panic and to think of what you would tell me to do.”
“I’m proud of you, Cairrie.” Eoin pulled her in for a kiss but stopped himself, remembering they were in the middle of a camp bustling with even more people than normal. The guardsmen had rounded up several of the Forbes patrol, awaiting Eoin’s orders. He glanced in the horses’ direction and spotted a conscious Domnall sitting bound against a tree. “Bind the others to trees. In the morn, strip them bare. Let them figure out how to untie themselves, or let another patrol rescue them. Domnall, you wanted to humiliate Lady Cairstine. Now it’s your turn to be humiliated. You’d better hope the worst that happens is a squirrel licking your bollocks.”
The Grants and Gordons chuckled while Cairstine blushed. Eoin led Cairstine to a place near the fire where she couldn’t see the Forbes men, but Eoin could watch them from the corner of his eye. He fetched one of his spare Gordon plaids and wrapped it around her shoulders. Neither of them dared admit what it normally meant for a woman to wear a man’s plaid, especially a man from another clan. They both knew Eoin could have fetched her other Grant plaid if he’d wanted, but both were content with how things were.
It wasn’t long before Bram returned with the animals Cairstine dropped during the attack. Another guard fried bannocks while the meat cooked. Cairstine didn’t settle for the night with a full belly, but she was fuller than she had been any of her nights at Dundee Priory. Exhaustion swept her into sleep, but it was restless. She dreamed of Eoin standing at the steps of a kirk waiting for her, but when she approached, a faceless man stepped in front of her. Eoin tried to fight his way to her, but she ran. In her dream state she couldn’t tell where she was running to, but it seemed an endless effort, with Eoin nowhere in sight. That dream melted into another where they were alone in a chamber she didn’t recognize, and she wore little but a thin chemise. Eoin wore his plaid, but she couldn’t see his leine. He encouraged her to come closer, and when she obliged, they began kissing. The next image flashed to them naked on the bed together, but when Eoin rolled her onto her back and moved on top, he transformed into the faceless man again who pinned her to the bed. She thrashed and fought, but she couldn’t push the weight of her attacker off. She cried out, but no one came until suddenly she was awake and disoriented.
Eoin watched Cairstine stir in her sleep and suspected she was having a nightmare. It tempted him to wake her, but he wasn’t certain whether that was the right choice once she settled and seemed to slip back into a deep sleep. As he watched her, longing and regret radiated from his heart into every nerve until it was all he could feel. He was slowly driving himself mad with want each time he held Cairstine and kissed her. It was senseless to continue since nothing would come of it, and one or both of them was likely to wind up with a broken heart, but she was like a lodestone and he had no strength to fight her magnetism. As his mind drifted, he noticed Cairstine shifted restlessly, the new nightmare worse than the first. He bolted from his bedroll when she screamed and thrashed. He gripped her shoulders and shook her as gently as he could as he called her name until it permeated the abyss her mind had slipped into. She sat up and jerked awake.
“You were having a nightmare, Cairrie.”
“I know. Two of them. They were horrible,” she shook her head as she wiped the sweat from her brow and the tears that trickled from the corner of her eyes.
“What happened?” Eoin murmured. But Cairstine couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his, shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk aboot it.”
“Was it what happened before? Were you remembering?” Eoin prodded.
“No. It wasn’t a memory. It was all made up, but it doesn’t matter because it was a terrible dream that will never come true.” Cairstine reached for the waterskin attached to her saddle that sat behind her. She drew a long sip before replacing the cap. “I want to go back to sleep.”
Eoin nodded as she lay back down. He drew her plaid over her shoulder and cast a last glance at her before he returned to his own bedroll. Now that his worry had subsided, his longing and regret returned with a vengeance. He longed to move his bedroll beside hers, wrapping his arms around her and protecting Cairstine from the rest of the world. He longed to comfort her, and he longed for her to be the last thing he saw each night and the first that he gazed upon each morning.
Eoin regretted that it would never come to pass. He regretted that his desire for a family still outweighed his ability to accept Cairstine’s refusal ever to couple with a man. He regretted that he’d allowed himself to have more than one taste of his own forbidden fruit. When he finally slipped into slumber, chasing Cairstine filled his dreams, but she was always just beyond his reach. Their fingertips even grazed a time or two. He ran for what seemed like forever, but never did he catch her. Both of them arose the next morning feeling worse than before they’d gone to bed.
* * *
The sixth morning of their journey dawned too soon for either Cairstine’s or Eoin’s taste. It was the last day they would travel together. They would leave the Cairngorms behind them and arrive at Freuchie Castle before the sun set. The Gordons had another day and a half of riding to take them home to Huntly Castle. All the members of their party were ready to make their way home to their beds, their families, and proper meals. But Cairstine was the least enthusiastic. She looked forward to being with her mother and sister, and even Fingal. But she dreaded the confrontation that awaited her. There was little doubt that the abbot’s messenger had arrived at Freuchie by now, and it surprised Cairstine that they hadn’t met her father on the trail. She was certain he would soon ride out to retrieve his wayward daughter.
Cairstine forced herself to focus on the last of the narrow trail as the sun passed its zenith and flatter land came into view. They were only another hour’s ride from Freuchie, and Cairstine wished time would slow. She glanced at Eoin, and an unfamiliar emotion tugged at her heart. It wasn’t the lust she’d experienced with Eoin when they kissed. She knew she would miss him. She would miss his affable smile that both reassured and teased her. She would miss his practical suggestions and the patience with which he offered them. She would miss his company both when they rode in silence and when they told their life stories. She ordered herself to put aside the useless emotions that would get her nowhere. She would arrive at the gates of her clan’s keep, and Eoin would continue on to his clan. The best she could hope for was that he would look back over his shoulder, maybe even wave.
Eoin called a halt as they neared the bank of a babbling stream. Allowing the horses to rest was the only reason to procrastinate that he could devise. The animals deserved the chance to drink after their labor clopping down the mountain, but he knew they could have carried on for another hour. He wanted any excuse to spend a little more time with Cairstine before he had to say goodbye. He knew that her family would host the annual Highland Gathering in a few weeks, but he feared her father would betroth her to another man by then. His heart urged his mind to find the courage to ask Cairstine if she thought she might ever come to care for him enough to consider a marriage to him that could produce children. But his conscience intervened, forcing him to remain silent lest he ruin the brief time they had left in one another’s company.
“Eo?” Cairstine came to stand beside Eoin as he splashed water on his face and neck. When he stood, Cairstine noticed droplets on the ends of his hair. She was tempted to brush them away, but she commanded herself not to touch him. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. “We’re nearly there. Will you stop for the night or continue on?”
Eoin had already considered this. He knew he should accept any offer of hospitality since his men deserved a hot meal and a bed in the barracks for at least one night. But he relied on their eagerness to return home to justify his decision to keep riding. He noticed the hopefulness in Cairstine’s eyes, and his resolve threatened to crumble. He shook his head.
“It would be a welcome rest after a lengthy journey, but my men and I need to return home.”
“Lengthy,” Cairstine murmured before looking Eoin in the eye. “That was my fault. Your family and the rest of your guards have been home for days while you and your men played nursemaid to a self-involved lass who wanted to get her own way.”
“Cairstine, none of us see you that way. I would know if my men did. They may not ken the reasons for your choices, but they respect that you want to take the veil. They’re disappointed for you. I can tell.”
