Campbell had disappeared after dinner, and she didn’t know what he was up to.
She was fixing a tear in one of her old but still serviceable gowns when he came in through the back door, bringing with him the smell of the loamy woods and fresh air.
Like a caged lion, he paced the small sitting room, never touching anything but looking at everything. She continued to sew, watching her needle pierce the worn fabric. In and out. In and out.
He dropped down on the settee, his long, lean frame nearly dwarfing the small piece of furniture. John had always hated the settee, saying it was far too small and uncomfortable for a large man, but it fit her sitting room, so she’d brought it to her new home.
Campbell placed his elbows on his knees and cleared his throat, a sure sign that he wanted to discuss something.
“When John died…” His voice trailed off and he looked away.
Cait froze, her gaze riveted to her sewing needle. “We’re no’ talking about this.”
“You have no idea what I’m about to say.”
“I don’t care what ye have to say. Whatever it is, ye can keep it to yerself.”
“It needs to be said, Cait.”
She stood abruptly, her sewing falling to the ground. Black Cat peeked his head out from beneath her chair and quickly ducked back. “Nay.”
Iain wiped his hands on his breeches and stood as well. “Please sit down.”
“Nay.”
“Cait—”
She sliced her hand through the air as anger surged through her. She didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to discuss anything about John with this man.
“I’ve asked ye several times to leave, and ye’ve ignored me every time,” she said through a tight throat. “Ye’re my chief and ye were John’s friend, but ye’ve sorely overstayed yer welcome here. I have nothing to say to ye about John or anything else, and I wish ye would just leave.”
“I promised him on his dying breath that I would watch over you.”
She laughed, noting the tone of hysteria that crept in. “I don’t want yer protection. I don’tneedyer protection. I’m doing fine on my own.”
“You live in a small cottage as far from the main house as you can get.”
“On purpose,” she spat. “I moved this far out on purpose. Ye don’t think its coincidence that I’ve perched myself on the border of Campbell land?”
The skin around his eyes tightened in anger, but she didn’t care if he was angry. She was furious. How dare he come here after four years and tell her what to do and where to live? How dare he tell her that he promised John he’d protect her? She’d not seen him do anything of the sort since John’s death. She didn’t want or need Iain Campbell. Her life was just fine without him.
“Please let me help you,” he said softly.
“Help withwhat?” she said in exasperation.
“You can have your old home back, the one you lived in with—”
“Good God, no.” She couldn’t bear it, all the happy memories of that place. She’d given birth to Christina in that house and watched her baby girl die in that house. It was where she’d been when Campbell came to tell her John was dead.
“If ye can’t honor my wish to leave me be,” she said, “then I will ask Sutherland to take me in.”
His lips thinned and those dark eyes narrowed.
“I have no ties to the Campbells anymore.” She could just as easily help Sutherland from his land, and he would be happy to have a healer closer to his home.
“You truly despise me, don’t you?”
She looked away. At one time she had disliked the way John worshipped his chief and maybe resented the amount of time John spent with him. Afterward she’d been so insulated by her grief over first Christina’s death and then John’s that she had no room for hatred toward Iain Campbell. The hatred had grown as her grief waned.
