“I willna leave them to fight my battle.” He tried to take the reins, but she grabbed the chains between his wrists and yanked his hands away.
“They know what to do,” she shouted. “We have it all worked out.” She leaned forward, pulling him with her as she veered off the road into a stand of thick pines. Once they reached a clearing among the heavy, water-soaked boughs, she twisted in the saddle and kissed him hard. As she framed his face in her hands, her red-rimmed eyes betrayed her. She spoke in a hitching sob, searching his face as if making sure it was really him. “I feared I would never see ye again. I was so, so afraid.”
“I feared the same, precious one.” He reveled in the love in her eyes, unable to believe he actually held her again. Heart singing, he kissed her again, unable to get enough of her. Yet he forced himself to break the bond. “We must not tarry here. The Campbells hunt me like a beast. Call the men so we might make our way back to MacDonald land.”
She didn’t do as he asked, just pressed a hand to his cheek and gifted him with a sad smile. “No, my love.”
He blinked and barely shifted his wounded shoulder in a useless attempt to ease the aching. Perhaps his weariness and pain had damaged his hearing. “What do ye mean,no?”
Without answering, she turned back in the saddle, took up the reins, and urged the horse into a careful trot through the woods. “Clan Cameron’s lands will provide us brief sanctuary and the time we need to see to yer shoulder. Then it’s on to the port at Fort William. Calder said yer ship is there, aye?”
“Aye.”
Before he could ask what she planned, she continued, “Are ye injured anywhere else?”
“No. Just my shoulder.”
She leaned down as they rode, reached into the leather pouch sewn to the front of his saddle, and pulled out his flask. “Think ye can ride and enjoy a wee dram with yer hands in shackles?”
“I will figure it out.” He grasped the silver container between both hands and drank while stretching over her shoulder. “God bless ye, woman, not only for saving my arse but for bringing my whisky.”
“Ye said the Campbells hunted ye. How did ye escape the British?”
“The Sassenachs set me loose on Campbell lands like a gamekeeper releasing braces of birds for the hunt.”
“Bastards.”
He chuckled and hugged her closer. “Aye, they are at that. But I have ye back in my arms. That is all that matters.”
She leaned back into his embrace and reached back over her shoulder to caress his face. “I am glad ye feel that way, because once we reach yer ship, we sail for France. Come spring, we sail for Nova Scotia.”
This time he snagged the reins before she realized it and halted the mount. “I willna desert my clan and leave them to pay for my sins.”
She patted his hands and wrestled the reins back from him. “Ye dinna have to. Most have decided to come with us.”
*
Her heart hadrisen to her throat when she spotted him standing there in the middle of that road. Rain-soaked. Covered in mud and blood that refused to wash away. An arrow stuck in his shoulder. Sword hefted to the sky between his shackled hands. Mila shuddered at the terrible scene that refused to leave her. She broke away from the circle around the fire, supported herself against a tree, and vomited. Every time she thought of how he had looked, her stomach churned as if trying to rid her body of the memory.
“My love?”
His gentle touch triggered sobs she was powerless to stop. She had almost lost him. What would she have done if she lost him?
“Mila.” His crooning tone wrapped her in caring comfort. He held her hair back out of the way as she doubled over and dry-heaved more, nearly turning herself inside out. “God bless ye, my precious love.” Still holding her hair, he turned and called out to the others back at the fire. “Someone bring her some water! Now!”
“No.” She straightened and clutched at his arm. Her stomach clenched again, making her press the back of her hand against her mouth. This needed to stop. “I can get it myself,” she rasped. “Dinna trouble them, aye? Some are hurt and still being bandaged.” She pulled a square of linen from between her breasts and wiped her nose. Thank goodness she had listened to Grissa and worn the infernal stays. They came in handy when it came to tucking things inside her shirt. She forced a smile while pulling in deep, cleansing breaths. Time to change the subject and get her mind on other things. “I see Dugald took care of yer shackles. Quite the lock picker, is he not?”
“One of his many talents.” He eased her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Are ye better now?”
“Aye. Ye were quite the sight when we found ye. Every time I think of it, it makes me ill.” Without leaving the security of his embrace, she stole a glance around. The fire in the middle of camp, hissing and spitting with every drop of rain, worried her. “Calder says the Campbells willna follow us this far onto Cameron land, but they are sure to tell the British ye escaped. Is a fire wise?”
“It will take a few days for word to travel and the weather will keep the smoke close to the ground. With any luck, we will reach the port and signal theVengeancebefore then.”
Calder had assured her that the captain of Teague’s ship knew how to evade the British for as long as it took. Experts at smuggling goods that couldn’t be found in Ireland, France, or the Hebrides, they knew every hidden cove between Scotland and the Indies. While they waited to hear from Teague about new opportunities, they stayed busy with short runs that kept them within a day or two of Fort William. She and Calder had sent a runner on ahead to make sure the ship would be ready when they arrived.
She noticed him favoring the side with his wounded shoulder. “Is the pain terrible?”
“’Tis easing up now. Removal of the arrow and cleaning the wound is never pleasant.” He pulled her close again for a lingering kiss. “The joy of being with ye once again makes me forget it.”
