“I’ll check on you tonight,” he said.
“Ye don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
She grinned, allowing him this, because if she didn’t, he would do what he wanted in the end. She could push him only so far. “Tonight, then.” With a confident wave, she rode off. It felt good to be alone with her thoughts without Iain hovering about.
As she had predicted, the ride home was uneventful. She encountered no miscreants or murderers, as Iain had feared she would. The road was deserted, and she enjoyed her freedom and her thoughts. She was at peace at the far edges of Campbell land. But was it a false sense of peace? Would she be at peace elsewhere if she only allowed herself to be?
These thoughts were exhausting, but she also knew they were needed. It was time to question her life. Although the way she lived had served her well in the years after John’s death, she was beginning to realize that what worked for her then would not necessarily serve her in the future. Change was frightening, but sometimes staying in the same place was more frightening.
She was and was not surprised to see Graham sitting outside her cottage. So much for being alone and at peace. She dismounted as he stood.
“I heard ye had trouble with the damn redcoats,” he said gruffly.
“Word travels quickly,” she said as she led her horse around back.
Graham followed, grumbling about the damn redcoats.
“The trouble is gone,” she said. “Iain and Captain Palmer took care of it.”
Graham snorted. “Ye put too much trust in those two. They’re thick as thieves, and I don’t trust them as far as I can throw ’em. Bloody Sassenachs is what they are, one no better than the other.”
“Careful,” she said. “Ye’re starting to sound like MacGregor.”
That shut him up for a moment. He wasn’t overly fond of MacGregor and had never liked being compared to the other chief. “He might be right in this,” he grudgingly admitted.
She stopped and stared at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ye say that.”
He shrugged. “Ye can never trust a Campbell, always thinkin’ of themselves, they are. Goes where the wind blows. And where the money is. If the Scots gave him more gold and land, he’d side with them just as easily as he’d side with the bloody English.”
Cait rubbed her horse down even though the ride hadn’t been arduous. She just wanted something to do.
“Got nothin’ to say to that, lass?”
“Iain Campbell was there when I needed him. After my encounter with Donaldson, it was Iain I turned to for help, and he was right there. He took care of me. He let me rail and cry, and he just listened. He’s a good man, Grandfather. I know ye can’t see beyond the history of the Campbell name, but trust me, he’s different. John loved him like a brother and died for him. That says much.”
Graham harrumphed and said after a bit of silence, “I’ve had several discussions with him about the future of Scotland.”
“I have, too, and what he says makes sense. He thinks with his head and not his heart. He considers all angles and every scenario. Ye might no’ like what he has to say, but it’s worth hearing him out.”
Graham eyed her critically. “Ye’ve grown to a beautiful woman, Cait Campbell. Yer mother and father would have been proud of ye.”
Her throat closed up with tears, and she swallowed them. “Thank ye. That means a lot.”
“Maybe I’ll let him tell me these thoughts he has. No harm to listen, eh?”
“No harm to listen,” she admitted.
He cleared his throat. “I came to see if ye were all right.”
“I’m fine.”
Another small bit of silence. “Ye need anything?”
“Nay.” She straightened and brushed a bit of hair out of her face. “Truly, I’m fine. Between you and Campbell, I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Iain has been very…protective.” She wondered how much Graham knew about the encounter but decided it prudent not to ask. She wasn’t keen on repeating the story, and if he didn’t know, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.
“If ye don’t feel safe, ye’re always welcome back home.”
