Page 12 of Highland Spy

“I dinna see why no’.” Caleb gnawed at the crust of bread. “After all, it’s no’ like I was goin’ to try to kiss ye again. Ye would have been perfectly safe.”

“Really?” For some reason, disappointment coursed through her at hearing his words. She’d never expected the kiss earlier, and she’d surprised herself by enjoying it, even if she didn’t want him to know.

“It’s no’ what either of us wants, lass. To kiss, I mean.” Caleb looked up at her. “Is it?” He waited for her answer.

“I – I . . . nay of course no’.” She shooed the pine marten off her lap, brushing crumbs and hair off her gown.

“I’m sorry I ever kissed ye in the first place,” he continued. “Even if ye were pressin’ yer body up against mine, temptin’ me to do it,” he added under his breath. He turned the piece of bread over, inspecting it instead of looking at her. A big smile spread across his face and he took another swig of whisky and then offered her some.

Bridget snatched the bottle out of Caleb’s hand with such force that the liquid inside splashed out and leaked down her hand. “I fell on ye by accident,” she retorted. “And I am no’ the kind of lass that throws herself at a man, no matter what ye think.”

“I didna say ye were.”

“Ye implied it,” she answered with a sniff. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she decided strong whisky was just what she needed right now since Caleb was upsetting her. He made it sound as if she were a loose woman, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. Taking a small sip of the hellfire brew, she held it in her mouth, not sure she wanted to swallow the vile drink. It was strong and made her mouth burn as if it were on fire.

“Ye’d better spit it out.” Caleb warned her, taking the bottle away from her. “Only men can drink Mountain Magic, so dinna feel as if ye have to prove anythin’ to me.”

If this were true, then why did the fool even offer it to her? That did it! She’d only been trying to calm her emotions. But after that remark, she would drink the whisky even if it killed her to do so. She quickly swallowed, gasping, trying to breathe.

“I told ye no’ to do it.” Caleb reached out and patted her on the back. “Do ye ever listen to a thing I say?”

She coughed several times, feeling as if she were going to die. Caleb continued to pat her on the back as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took another swallow, as if he were the one with something to prove.

“Ahhh,” he said, making a big show out of smacking his lips together. When she stopped coughing, he laid back in the hay, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. His pine marten slinked over to her bag on the ground to inspect it closer. “Lay down,” he told her, with his eyes closed. “The hay is soft and makes a guid bed. There are also probably a lot less bugs in it than the pallet in the tavern.”

“Nay, I need to get back to my faither.” She stood up too quickly and felt dizzy from just one sip of Mountain Magic. “Och,” she said, bending her knees and sitting back down. “Mayhap I’ll stay, but only for a few minutes.”

“It’s yer choice,” said Caleb, looking way too comfortable. “I must say it’s a lot warmer down here in the hay.”

A cool breeze blew in the window, and Bridget shivered, pulling her cloak closer. The broken shutter banged slightly against the wall. She decided to lay down next to him, just to get out of the wind. And when she did, Caleb turned on his side and flung his arm over her.

“What are ye doin’?” she gasped, feeling her heart almost beating out of her chest from being touched by him again.

“Dinna fash yerself, lass. I’m only tryin’ to make ye warmer since I see ye’re shiverin’.”

“Oh,” she said, liking the way his body warmth felt up against her. “All right.”

“So, did yer faither write anythin’ in the Highland Chronicles tonight?” he asked, his breath caressing her earlobe as he spoke, making her body tingle.

“Nay, no’ tonight. He was tired,” she told him, not relaying the information that she hadn’t really had a chance to even think about the book.

“What is the king goin’ to do with the book and all the information?”

“I dinna ken,” she said as he pulled her closer, his entire body now pressed up against hers. “We just record the information, like the king asked us to do.”

“We?” His eyes drifted closed. “What does that mean? I thought yer faither was the one who wrote in the book.”

“He is,” she quickly corrected her statement, cursing to herself for having such a loose tongue. Damn that Mountain Magic. “I mean, my faither records the information, and I only help him collect the facts.”

Caleb chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve heard what yer faither’s written and I canna say I believe it is all facts. I think the stories have been embellished to make them sound grander than they really are.”

“How can ye say that?” This insulted her. “My faither is writin’ nothin’ but the truth.”

“Is he, now?” Caleb wet his lips with his tongue and settled in, sounding like he was starting to fall asleep.