Twenty-seven
Why did she have to be so damned stubborn?
Colin tightened his hold on his reins and cast another stealthy glance Abby’s direction. She sat her horse well enough, though her back slumped a bit more than it had in the first hours of their ride. Her face showed the strain of their long day in the saddle but she rode on, refusing to admit a need to stop and rest.
“There’s a place no too far ahead where we’ll set up camp for the night.”
Relief flashed across her face, but she quickly suppressed any evidence of the emotion, giving him a solemn nod to show her agreement.
“You don’t have to stop for me. We’ve still got daylight ahead of us. I can keep going as long as we need to.”
Stubborn woman. Brazen and demanding. In allfairness, he had to give her credit, too, for her wit and intelligence as well.
Far too intelligent for her own good, perhaps.
Charitable and forgiving, too, though it galled him to admit these last qualities. Admitting them forced him to face his own shortcomings.
He’d awakened early, even before the first rays of the sun had made their appearance. Using great care to avoid waking Abby, he’d dressed and silently gathered his things.
Nothing he’d tried the night before had worked to convince her to stay behind, so all that was left to him was to go while she slept. Once it was done, there would be nothing she could do about it.
Quietly, ever so quietly, he’d opened the door to their bedchamber and attempted to slip away, only to stumble over her legs and land beside her on the hard stone floor.
“I knew you’d try that,” she’d said, her disappointment in him palpable.
He’d made one last desperate appeal to her and the whole of his family, all to no avail. As if in a great conspiracy against common sense, they all agreed she should accompany him.
And accompany him she did. Without a single reference to his deceit and trickery. Without a single word of rebuke. In truth, with almost no words at all. She’d simply sat on her horse the whole of the long day, never once complaining.
Not even now.
“I’ve no a doubt you could carry on endlessly, wife, but the horses grow weary after such a long day.”
Her eyes cut to him and away, as they did each time he called her by that appellation. He found he rather enjoyed it, both the sound of the word itself and her reaction to it. He hid his unexpected need to smile in explanation.
“We have more light than we ken what to do with in our summers. The light outlasts the stamina of our mounts. They need rest in order to carry us tomorrow.”
A little farther on, he directed them from the road through the trees and to a sheltered spot by a fast-flowing stream. There he dismounted and led his horse to a grassy area, looping the animal’s reins around a branch within reach of the water, all the while keeping a close watch on Abby.
She was slow to dismount, stumbling when her feet hit the ground.
“Do you need help?” he called, knowing before he asked she’d refuse.
She didn’t disappoint.
“You just worry about yourself. I’m fine.” With a hand at her lower back, she stiffly led her mount over to join his.
“I’ll gather kindling and start the fire if you want to carry our foodstuffs and blankets over to that flat area by the rocks.”
She nodded, her fingers already fumbling with the ties on her pack. “Fire? We’re not cooking, are we? Why do we need a fire this early?”
“It’s later than you realize, Abby. And after the hours we’ve spent traveling today, sleep will likely overtake us as soon as we finish our meal. The fire will burn down, but the rocks I’ll place around it will give off heatduring the night. Dinna fear, wife, we’ll have plenty of cold dark nights ahead of us on this journey, but for now, there’s no a need to forgo a fire.”
Wordlessly, she returned to unlacing the pack on her mount’s back and taking it to the area he’d indicated. She returned to fetch his as he headed into the trees.
It was a dry year in the Highlands, bad for the sheep and the shepherds, but welcome for his needs at the moment. Dry underbrush and twigs meant he could easily gather the fuel he needed for their fire without having to lose sight of Abby.
Not that he actually expected any trouble here. He could easily feel that they were alone in this remote area. When he let down his barriers, Abby’s was the only soul he felt for miles. He concentrated and allowed his senses to expand. Like a bird in flight, his mind flew through a foreign landscape of colors, ignoring the tortured calls of the souls he bypassed. Farther on he explored, following the two familiar patterns that glowed like a beacon on the horizon.
