“Well, it won't be long!”
Teeth still clenched, she waved away his hand and scrambled to her feet without his help. The way his mere presence made herheart pound, she’d probably have a stroke if she actually touched him—especially after the kiss on the stairway. Not to mention that dream. After shooting him a frosty glare he’d do well to pay attention to, she made a few adjustments, then tucked the screwdriver back in the pouch. “Now, if you would be so kind as to step back a few feet, I’ll get on with what I was doing.”
A shiver of longing rippled through her as she brushed too close when she passed him. The mere scent of him, the way his warmth almost seemed to reach out and caress her, shook through her, pulled at her like a magnet to steel. Never had any man ever affected her this way. She coughed and rolled her shoulders to dispel the feeling as she climbed back up onto the tractor. She didn’t have time for men, especially not after what the last one had cost her.
With the steering wheel clenched between her gloved hands, she focused on the stump and tried to ignore the tempting Scot standing a few feet away.
Caelan narrowed his eyes while cocking his head much like the dogs had done. “Are ye certain ye should use that chain for this task? Looks to be nothing but pure rust in spots.” He aimed a frown at the strand wrapped around the stump. “Some of those links are stretched and look a mite weak to be pulling on something as sturdy as the base of an oak.”
“I know what I’m doing.” Besides, it was the only chain she had, and she couldn’t afford to buy another. Rachel silently wished he’d either go to work or, even better, go back to Scotland. A disgusted huff escaped her. No. She needed him to stay. That rent money was badly needed. She settled more comfortably in the seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “This’ll work. That stump’s been there long enough that the roots should be rotten. I’m going to pop it off, then smooth out what’s left with the front blade. Bessie, here, will make a fine path to that field.”
Caelan shook his head as he nudged the chain with the toe of his boot, then squatted down to inspect it closer. “Nay, lass. This bit of metal will never hold. Snap into pieces, it will, and go flying. Let me fetch another chain or I could work on the stump for ye with an ax.”
“I know what I’m doing—just get out of the way and watch.” Rachel started the tractor and revved it while glaring at him. “Stand back!” she shouted over the roaring rattle of the old diesel engine. She released the clutch with a pop, then twisted in the seat to bare her teeth at the stubborn stump.
“One more time,” she said, then down shifted the engine until it hummed and groaned under the strain of the pull. Her adrenaline spiked again. She’d show Caelan. She faced the front, held tight to the steering wheel, and stood to get better leverage on the tractor’s old gas pedal, which tended to stick. With a hard shove, she stomped it to the floor and held on tight as the front of the tractor bounced into the air. “Come on, Bessie,” she shouted, holding fast. A thrill rushed through her as the load shifted, the front wheels hit the ground, and the machine inched forward. “Yes!”
“Rachel! Stop!”Horror filled Caelan as the chain snapped just as he had feared it would.
It shot out from around the stump and struck Rachel right between her shoulder blades. Her head snapped back and her entire body arched into the air from the force of the hit. She pitched sideways and tumbled away from the wheezing tractor.
He caught her before she hit the ground, then lunged and rolled with her wrapped in his arms to keep the churning back tires of the machine from grinding over them.
“Emrys!” he bellowed over the chugging and belching of that noisy piece of destruction that needed to be replaced by a good horse. He eased Rachel down to the ground and stared at her.
“What have ye done?” Emrys shouted as he hobbled across the field, his hitching gait even worse with his struggling through the clumps of overgrown grass.
“She refused to heed me. The woman would not listen. Tell me my precious lass has not killed herself, I beg ye.” He brushed her hair out of her face and almost choked at the pallor of her cheeks beneath her sooty lashes.
“The first thing I’ll be doing is stopping that infernal racket!” With a narrow-eyed glare at the tractor, Emrys mumbled something unintelligible. The machine halted, and a black puff of smoke spewed from its rusty pipe as it gave one last grumbling gasp.
Gently running his fingers along her throat, Caelan searched for her heartbeat. “She lives, but it is verra weak. I can hardly feel the beating of her heart. Do something!”
Emrys gave a wheezing grunt as he knelt beside her and shooed Caelan’s hands away. “Haud yer wheesht! Let me hear her andnotyourself.” He pressed an ear to her chest and frowned for what seemed like forever.
The old druid sat up, held his hands over her, and closed his eyes. Slowly tilting his face to the sky, he seemed to listen to some silent song heard only by him. “She is badly bruised but will heal. The energies are amazingly strong with this one.”
He opened his eyes and smiled at Caelan, his blue eyes twinkling beneath his scraggly white brows. “It appears the Fates are protecting your lass. That snapping chain should have broken her back and stopped her heart. They must have noble plans in the works for the two of ye. I would go carefully, my fine laird.” He offered a regal bow of his head, and his good humor melted, replaced by a sober expression. “It would seem ye havebeen chosen, and we all ken how difficult life can be for those who are chosen.”
He grabbed Caelan’s shoulder and tried to hoist himself up from the ground, his ancient knees popping in protest.
“Are ye going to fetch some herbs to help her heal?” Caelan helped the man stand, then struggled to remain calm as the ancient one turned to walk away. “Emrys! I command that ye answer me.”
The old druid turned and once again tipped his head in a regal bow. “I am leaving ye with the lass. Prove to her ye can take care of her. Ye dinna need me here for that.”
“But ye must heal her! Tend to her wounds. I know nothing about herbs.”
Emrys shook his head, then lifted his hand in farewell as he hobbled back across the field and disappeared into the woods.
Caelan stared after him. Unable to believe that the old fool had left him here to either fail or prosper with this precious woman. He dropped back down on his knees, carefully picked her up, and cradled her to his chest. He couldn’t believe how small and fragile she felt now that she was hurt. She reminded him of a newborn lamb he had once carried from a field. Watching her face for any sign of coming to, he slowly made his way back to the house.
Both dogs stayed at his heels. Silent. Their noses held high as they kept watch over the man carrying their beloved mistress. Even boisterous Sam remained quiet and subdued. The wee dog knew that his woman was not well.
After shouldering open the door, Caelan wandered through the house with Rachel in his arms, glancing into each room until he found what appeared to be her bedchamber. He eased her down onto the bed and regretfully withdrew his arms from around her.
Uncertainty, dread, and a helplessness he hated pounded through him, making him rake both hands through his hair as he stared down at her. A curse on Emrys for deserting him—for deserting Rachel in her time of need. Caelan knew how to love the lass, adore and protect her, but damned if he knew what to do to help her heal. Surely, she would be more comfortable if he loosened her clothes. Maybe that would ease her breathing.
With a nod to himself at the rightness of the decision, he started with her boots. Boots were safe, and if she awakened while he undid them, she would not be angry or affronted. At least, he hoped she wouldn’t. He had told her what to do about the chain, and she’d nay liked it or listened to it. Instinct told him that as soon as she opened her eyes, he very well could be in for an arse chewing merely because he’d been right. He frowned at the ragged, knotted lacing lashed haphazardly through the holes of her footwear.
