* * *
It was shortly after noon when Callum and Bethoc prepared to leave. She hugged Triona and kissed the children before turning to her father. Before she could decide what was the best thing to do, Brett hugged her. Something stirred inside of her and she realized it was a sense of belonging. There was also some sadness for all she had missed.
Callum left Brett with a promise of letters and visits, and Bethoc wondered how he could promise such things for her. She made no complaint though for she had already promised Triona letters. Then the ride took up all her attention.
They rode until the threatening night stopped them. Aside from a few rests for the horses, it had been hours, and Bethoc was feeling every single one of them as she dismounted. Home was not far away but neither of them wanted to ride in the dark and her backside desperately needed a rest. She rode very little and it was costing her now. Once the horses were settled she cautiously sat down before the fire Callum built and helped herself to some of the food he had set out.
“Ye are sore, arenae ye?” Callum asked.
Since the part of her that was sore was not one she wished to discuss, Bethoc blushed. “Aye, a bit. I can ride but I dinnae do it often.”
“Weel, be sure to have a walk ere ye lie down for the night or ye will be worse in the morning.”
Bethoc was not quite sure how she could be worse but she nodded in agreement. As they ate he spoke of Whytemont and she knew she would have to go there. How long she might stay was all that was in doubt. It was not that he was commanding her to go, but the way he spoke of her seeing his home that swayed her. He so obviously wanted her to see the place, wanted to show her things he had, and pretty places there, that she simply could not say no.
Callum spread out a place for them to sleep as she cleared away the remains of the food. Then he caught her by the hand, pulled her to her feet, and began to take her on a walk. Bethoc could already feel her muscles stiffening up and prayed this would help.
“Poor lass, I fear ye will be a bit sore in the morning,” Callum said as he put his arm around her shoulder.
“Aye, but I will be able to finish the ride.”
“Just need a rest between this one and the next, aye?”
“That would be nice.”
“So, tell me what ye have decided about Brett.”
“I havenae decided much at all. Oh, we did agree to call each other Father and Daughter. Triona felt that would be good, would help us in building something. She thought it would work to make us recognize what we are and the rest will follow.”
“That makes sense, actually. If ye both just keep saying ‘sir’ or ‘miss’ the realization that ye are more isnae settling in.” He nodded. “Very clever woman is Triona.”
“Aye, I think she is.” Bethoc sighed as they returned to the bed Callum had spread out.
“Take off your gown and lie down on your stomach. I have some cream I can rub on ye that will help.”
Bethoc did as he asked but was startled when he lifted her chemise and tugged off her braies. “Callum, I . . .”
“Dinnae worry, love, that is nay what I am thinking of. Where did ye think I would put the cream?”
A moment later he was rubbing cream into her backside and the top of her legs. The twinge of embarrassment she had suffered faded fast as the ache eased. She closed her eyes and listened to Callum wash his hands before joining her on the pallet he had set up. Then she realized there was still the feel of air wafting over her backside.
“Callum?” She started to reach back but he caught her hand.
“Nay, leave it for a while. Ye go covering everything up now and it will take off the cream. I will just lie here and admire your pretty backside until the cream has dried.”
She groaned. “Ye are a rogue, Callum.”
“Go to sleep, Bethoc. Ye need your rest. Dinnae fret”—he bent down and kissed her cheek and she could feel him smiling against her skin—“I will be sure to cover ye up properly before I go to sleep.”
Since she was half asleep already, she made no argument, although she fully intended to make him pay for this later.
* * *
The ride to her house was nowhere as near as long as the one the day before and Bethoc was highly grateful for that. The cream had helped but it was not perfect and she badly wished to get out of the saddle. Then she noticed Callum had stopped and was looking not at her house but up the trail to the cave.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nay,” he answered. “’Tis just that there is only one horse at your house, which means the others are at the cave.”
