****
Niall sucked in a lungful of cool, crisp air. He’d gotten out of the shack just in time before he did something stupid like wait for her to put his shirt on. He could have held off on tending to the horses, could have stayed, could have closed his eyes while she took off the jacket. He could have controlled his wayward thoughts. He hoped. He’d managed quite well in doing so, these past weeks. But that was when Annie Ferguson wore a dress. Having her legs—not to mention a very comely arse—so well-defined in breeches was driving him to a fevered state that had nothing to do with his wound.
The first time he’d awakened last night he’d found Annie lying a few feet from him. Even with a blanket covering her as she lay fully clothed, he’d had the oddest sensation of what it would feel like to wake up next to her in a nice, soft bed. And without the clothes. Each time he awoke, he’d had to resist the urge to pull her close, put her head on his shoulder, and cradle her through the night. But no woman, trustfully sleeping in peace and innocence, deserved to be taken advantage of. He’d contented himself with moving as close as he could without physically touching her.
Niall winced as the cold air made the injury throb. Annie was right that the wound hadn’t closed. Hopefully, they could make it to Loch Lomond and a doctor before it began to fester.
By the time he got the horses saddled, a painfully slow process since he didn’t want to risk having the bleeding start again, Annie had repacked the saddlebags and was waiting for him. He noticed she’d buttoned his shirt right to the collar that tucked under her chin and that the extra material scrunched under the jacket did obscure her feminine shape, which was a godsend to his unruly thoughts. Her hair had been pushed into the cap as well. Not a strand of red could be seen. Niall frowned.
“Your hair is nae red.”
“I put soot on what could be seen.” Annie shrugged. “I figured anyone looking for us would be sure to include I have red hair.”
“Smart lass.”
“I hope so. It feels filthy.”
Niall smiled. “Perhaps tonight ye can have a bath.”
“That would be heaven,” Annie replied.
“Then we had best get started. ’Tis a long day ahead.” Niall helped her mount, then turned to his own horse. He felt a tugging at the edges of the wound when he raised his foot to the stirrup, followed by a tearing as he added weight to his leg. Niall clenched his jaw at the sharp pain, then moved the gelding to the left of Annie so she wouldn’t see the blood he felt trickling down.
Since he wanted to avoid being seen as much as possible, they stayed just inside the forest line that paralleled the main road north, but that also meant they needed to keep the horses to a walk most of the day. They stopped several times to water and rest the animals and he had the chance to wash the blood off his leg before Annie saw it, but each time he remounted, he could feel the wound stretching. Thankfully, Annie had packedthe remains from last night’s meal, so they didn’t have to stop at a village to eat.
By the time they reached a coaching inn near Crianlarich, dusk had fallen. Niall was tired, but he knew Annie must be near exhaustion. They’d ridden a good twelve hours and she hadn’t spoken more than a few words the past five miles or so.
“We will stop here for the night,” he said.
“But ’tis nae village here nor doctor,” Annie said. “Ye need to have your leg tended to.”
“It will have to wait until morning,” Niall answered. “Darkness will have fallen before we reach Crianlarich. Highwaymen could be about and I’ll nae risk ye travelling.”
“Ye taught me to handle a dagger.”
“Only in self defense if ye have to. I’ll nae put ye in danger on the roads at night.”
“But—”
“Besides,” Niall interrupted, “I doona want to push the horses farther.”
Annie frowned and then nodded. “Ye are right about that. The animals are as tired as we are.”
“Aye. This will be as good a place to stop as any.”
“Do ye think it safe?” Annie asked, looking down the road that led to Glasgow.
“I doubt any searchers would come this far north,” Niall replied, “especially if they’ve been asking if we were seen and the answers have been nae. They will probably go east toward Edinburgh instead.”
“I hope ye are right,” Annie said. “In truth, I have been thinking about that hot bath for half the day.”
Niall nodded as they stopped the horses in front of the inn and he helped her down. “It should nae be long before that wish is granted.” He hoisted the saddlebag over his shoulder and handed the horses’ reins to a stable boy, along with some coin forextra oats, and hoped Annie didn’t notice his limp as they went inside.
The innkeeper, a short, bald-headed man of middle age, looked up from the counter. He studied Niall’s tartan. “MacDonald, is it?” His gaze traveled to the sword hanging at Niall’s side and the knife sheathed on his sporran belt. “This be Campbell country. I doona want any trouble.”
“Neither do I,” Niall answered. “We are just passing through and need rooms for the night.”
“Only one room left.”
