He nodded, seeming to want to say more, but turned to his horse, mounted, and rode away.
Cait watched him go, her heart heavy. She truly believed that he would find the right English lass to spend the rest of his life with, but that didn’t mean she liked hurting him. Silently, she wished him well and asked God to keep him safe.
Iain stepped in front of her, his face a mask of fury. “What game are you playing?”
“The same game ye’re playing,” she said wearily.
“It’s a dangerous game.”
“I’m in no more danger than ye are. Less, probably.”
“How do you figure less? Halloway asked you tomarryhim.”
“Aye.”
“And you encouraged it?”
She sighed and turned to go back in the house, then remembered she had a house full of wanted Scotsmen and she didn’t want them to hear this conversation, so she once again headed toward the bench. “Of course I didn’t encourage him. Do ye think I’m a big numpty? That I have no feelings for the poor lad? But I did entertain the thought. Being connected to an English soldier would buy me protection.”
Iain ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a bit of straw that fluttered to the ground. “I can’t believe you just said that. I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing.”
“I have to survive.”
“You haveme.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “But for some reason you don’t trust me to take care of you.” He huffed out a laugh and looked past her shoulders.
“Take care of me?” she exploded, having had enough of all of this. Anger and a host of other emotions rushed through her, stealing her good sense. The words came tumbling out, faster than she could say them. “How can ye take care of me when ye couldn’t even take care of the man riding next to ye who…” She breathed out a sob that physically hurt. “Who would have…”
He looked at her with dark eyes filled with pain. His silence was more brutal than any words he could have spoken in his own defense. “Go ahead,” he finally said. “Say it all. Everything you’ve always wanted to say to me.”
To her shock, she balled up her fist and hit him square in the chest. She’d never hit anyone, but it felt good and Iain didn’t even flinch. “He would have done anything for ye. He loved ye like a brother, and he…he…lost his life because of ye.” Tears were running unchecked down her face, but she didn’t brush them away. Iain stood there, his jaw clenched as her words rained down on him like blows.
Eventually, the anger drained out of her and she was left with the throbbing grief that she had lived with daily for the past four years.
“He died…” She drew in a shuddering breath. “He died doing what he did best. Protecting ye. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.” She looked at him through a haze of tears. “I think…I think I’m more angry at him for dying exactly the way he wanted to die, protecting ye. And leaving me behind.”
“Ah, Cait.” Iain just stared at her as if he didn’t know what to do or say.
She wiped at her tears and breathed deep. Something had loosened inside of her and floated away. She’d been hanging on to that anger for a long time, and she just now realized that she was mad at John, not Iain.
“So.” She laughed a bit shakily. “I apologize for breaking down on ye. I had no’ expected to do that.”
He lightly touched her arm, his look so serious. “I know I’ve told you before, but his last words and his last thoughts were of you.”
She nodded. It helped, in a way, but it didn’t fill the hole that his death had left behind. “Thank ye for being there for him. At the end.”
“I would have changed places with him in an instant.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “I believe ye would have. But then what would have happened to us Campbells without a leader?”
A corner of his lips lifted in a slight smile. “I have a feeling you all would have survived.”
“I have a feeling that Scotland would have been severely hurt if ye had died instead of John. I have a feeling that ye work a lot harder behind people’s backs than anyone realizes.”
“I don’t do any more than you or Sutherland or MacLean or anyone else who loves Scotland.”
“Ye’re a liar, Iain Campbell. I think redeeming the Campbell name is what drives ye. I just wish more people knew what ye are doing.”
He looked away, clearly embarrassed, and cleared his throat. “We will never know who killed John. It’s one of my greatest regrets.”
