When she awoke in the morning, Iain’s warm body had disappeared, and a peculiar feeling of disappointment overcame her. She hugged the blanket tighter around her. It wasn’t the same. She had to admit, she liked having his strong arms around her, and she liked feeling protected even if it was only from the weather.
She shrugged it off; the only reason he held her was to stop her from freezing to death. He’d probably saved her life. She guessed they were even, then.
Sitting up, she stretched to wake up her muscles and get her blood moving through her veins. Her sleepy gaze flitted over the camp, and she spotted Iain being tended to by Laraon the other side of the rebuilt fire. Abby hurried to them, hoping his injury hadn’t become infected.
Lara gazed at his side and clucked like a mother hen. “There, ’tis all clean now, but ye cannae be riding a horse with that wound. Ye’ll ride in the cart with yer wife.”
Abby tilted her head and regarded him as Lara wrapped some cloth around his waist and helped him put on his saffron shirt. He smiled at Lara, an open, honest smile that made little creases appear at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He obviously liked her.
Abby wished she could do something to make him smile like that at her, instead of the tight smiles that gave Abby the sense he was hiding something, or the other type where it was clear he was laughing at her.
Iain tossed his sword into the cart and helped Abby aboard. At his touch, a shiver ran from the spot where he’d held her arm all the way down her spine. She hated that being close to the Scot made her feel that way. Why couldn’t someone from her time have her go all gushy at his touch? She hoped one day a man could make her knees weak, but something told her there would be no other man like Iain.
Abby pushed her thoughts about men away and began folding the blankets into a bundle. She needed to think about how she was going to get the orb back. She didn’t like the idea, but she had to make Iain look for Thomas. It would put them in danger, but without the orb, she was stuck in 1746.
A horse neighed startling her back to the present.
The men harnessed the horses to the wagon, and the other horses were saddled and ready to go. Colin and the other men talked together. Abby guessed from their gestures they were deciding which direction to travel.
Iain had apparently refused the wagon, because he mounted the horse he’d ridden the previous day, and they began their day’s traveling. Her shoulders dropped in relief. It would be easier to keep away from him.
Mary handed out what was left of the bread and dried beef strips. Abigail waved her hand away. “I’m fine.” She didn’t want to eat the last of their food.
The older woman pushed the meager meal into Abigail’s hands. “We’ll stop for more provisions at the next town.”
As they bumped along what they called a road, Mary teased Lara about her new marriage with her son. “When am I to expect my first grand-bairn?”
Lara’s face instantly turned beet red as she dipped her head and pretended to concentrate on her sewing.
Mary grinned at Abby. “She’s a shy one.”
Lara looked up, her eyes glinting mischievously. “I’m no’ shy. ’Tis just that we thought to keep it secret, but yer son is most virile, Mary. I believe I am already with child.”
Mary let out a scream, bent forward, and hugged Lara. “A bairn? When?”
“I’m no’ sure. Perhaps in the winter?”
Colin brought his horse close to the wagon. “What is the trouble?”
“Naught, Husband.” Mary winked at Lara and smiled so widely, she looked crazed.
Colin raised his brows at her as if he’d find out soon enough and rode to the front of the wagon.
Mary giggled and locked Abby in her gaze. “Are ye enjoying married life, lass? Yer man is something to behold.”
Fenella, Mary’s mother, had remained quiet, appearing to doze in the corner of the litter, but snapped her eyes up at that moment. “Mary. Ye are a married woman.”
“Aye. I am, and a more contented woman ye’ll no’ find, but I know a strong, capable man when I see one.”
Abby followed Fenella’s gaze to Iain. Even with his wound paining him, he sat straight-backed with a regal bearing.
Letting out a long sigh, Fenella said, “Aye, he is a man for certain.”
Abby had to agree. If she was of this time, she could fall for the hunky Laird MacLaren. She gave an inward shake of her head. She wasn’t of this era, and she had to get back to her own time and family before she ended up dead and a part of history.
The three women gazed at Abby with conspiratorial expressions. “Ye have eyes only for ye husband,” Fenella said. “Is he as virile as he looks?” She laughed. “I can see from yer eyes that he is in yer heart.”
Lara and Mary joined Fenella in her merriment.
