Chapter Six
Cain pulled hisfur-lined cloak closer around his face, leaving only a narrow slit between his cloak and his hood. He could barely see two feet in front of him. But he knew his way. Even if he didn’t, he would travel the pathway to Hades to find her. His and Aleysia’s only daughter. Their treasure, cherished beyond measure. If anything terrible were to befall her…he couldn’t finish the thought.
He was freezing. Even wrapped in wool and fox, the wind found a way to get through to his bones. But the colder he became the more his determination to find her grew. He prayed that she’d found shelter, or her way back to the fortress. He prayed because if she was out here lost, she was already dead. Tears stung his eyes.
Please God, no. Please send help on this Christmas night.
This was all his fault. If he hadn’t announced her betrothal to Hugh Tanner, she never would have run away. Was Raphael Cameron correct about Hugh? Was he using her love, respect, fear, or whatever she felt toward him to threaten her? He’d tried to find out by pulling Tanner aside and questioning him. Tanner profusely denied the charges.
Either way, if Cain had her back, he would listen to her. If she didn’t want to marry Hugh Tanner, then she wouldn’t marry him. But what if she wanted to marry—
He hit into something soft, yet inflexible.
“Who is there?”
Cain scowled hearing Robbie Cameron’s voice. What the hell was he doing out here. Cain asked him.
“My son apparently followed yer reckless daughter into the storm in an attempt to save her. Now, he may be dead because of her.”
Cain didn’t know how to answer that accusation. Young Cameron went out into the freezing, blinding storm after her. Hugh Tanner did not, nor did he even show concern over her when Cain was questioning him. “I will find them,” Cain muttered and pushed past him. He hated that he’d just promised to save Cameron’s son, but it was the man’s—even if it was his enemy—bairn.
“I’m comin’ with ye,” Cameron said, placing his hand on Cain’s shoulder.
“No.”
“MacPherson,” Cameron shouted over the wind, “d’ye want to fight aboot it here and now while our bairns could be fightin’ fer their lives?”
Cain huffed and then moved onward with his enemy Robbie Cameron holding on.
They pushed their way through the wind and snow and then Cameron stopped and grabbed hold of Cain’s arm. “I heard somethin’!” He spun around, ignoring Cain hitting his hand away.
“Dinna twist me around, Cameron! If I lose my sense of…” he let his words trail off. Which way was he facing? How many times did Cameron pull him around? His stomach sank. He felt like killing his unwanted companion. He listened for any sounds and when he heard nothing, he swore an oath and punched at the air, hoping to hit Cameron, whom he could no longer see at all.
“I dinna know which way to go now, ye fool!”
“But I thought I heard somethin’,” Robbie defended.
“Ye heard the wind!” Cain shouted at him. “And now we will most likely die here.” He moved away from Cameron and turned to the left. The path toward the shepherds’ homes was this way he believed. But who knew for certain?
“I think we turned right,” said Cameron, passing him. “Whichever way ye were headin’ should be—”
“Cameron?” Cain called out after a few moments passed without another word from him. “Cameron, what the hell—!”
“MacPherson, dinna take another step!” Cameron screamed out from below him. “’Tis a cliff! I fell. I…I am holdin’ on to somethin’…a branch. One foot is on a perch, the other is hangin’ down. I dinna know how far. I need yer help.”
Now Cain knew where they were. He remained still. It was more of a drop-off than a cliff, but it was high enough above the river Garry to die from the fall.
Here it was. A way to get rid of his enemy once and for all. Every summer, who was it that tried to steal his cattle? The Camerons. Who laid traps for his kin when they were on the road so that they could do nothing but watch while their horses and any goods they had were taken from them? The Camerons. Who killed his good friend and second in command, Amish? Robbie Cameron.
But it was Christmas. And Cameron was his guest, thanks to his idiot brother.
He grumbled under his breath and knelt down on all fours.
“MacPherson.” His voice rose to Cain’s ears. “I wanted ye to know this, but I was too much of a coward to tell ye to yer face, but in all our raids and skirmishes, I never meant to kill Amish. I respected him as a warrior too much to kill him. We were fightin’ and I swung left thinkin’ that was the way he was goin’, but he turned at the last moment to take a swipe at me and my blade fell on him and caused his death. I was sorry fer it. I still am.”
Cain looked down, letting his vision settle on the dark mass below.
“Will ye aid me, MacPherson?”
