Page 30 of Highlander’s False Identity

“Beathan?” Edme said tentatively, her blue-gray eyes pressed wide open.

Beathan sat up with a stabbing pain in his head. “Och!” he cried.

All around him, he felt her cool touch press him back down.

“Nae, dinnae try to move,” she said, helping him down. “Ye may have hurt yersel’,” she explained.

Beathan couldn’t see much, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to get up.

“Nae, I’m alright, I… argh!” he yelled, his head hitting a wall of pain as soon as he tried to move. Inside his left eye, he could feel a throbbing, and every time he tried to move, it felt like the world rotated in double-quick timing.

“Nae yer not, ye took quite a tumble there. It looks like yer gonna have quite a shiner there,” said Edme, tending to him.

He wasn’t quite sure exactly where he had landed, but it seemed to be near a stream; possibly the same one that the English soldiers crash-landed into. Panicked at this thought, Beathan whipped his head around to look. He couldn’t see any signs of the dead soldiers, but in the dark of night, it didn’t mean anything.

“Where are we?” asked Beathan at the unfamiliar landscape.

“Nae far from the Duncan lands, dinnae fash lad. We’re nae near to where the English attacked now, they’ve gone,” Edme soothed, seeming to read his mind. She was stroking his hair lightly.

“Ye fell from yer horse an’ gave yer heid quite a knock. I think it’s best we stop here for the night an’ rest. Hopefully, after a good night’s sleep, ye’ll feel well enough to carry on,” said Edme, her voice trailing off.

“I feel well enough now!” lied Beathan, but deep inside, he felt his temple throbbing and his head pounding. He had managed to pull himself up to a seated position and was looking around.

In the time he had been knocked out, the wind had increased, sending icy cold blasts of horizontal rain now falling on top of him. As he came around, he remembered something.

“Edme, ye saved me!” he murmured, admiringly as she tended to his cuts and bruises.

“Och, hush,” said Edme, as if uncomfortable. “Fact is if I hadn’t been riding like a wee fannybaw ye wouldn’t have fallen off yer horse. Beathan, I’m sorry,” she said.

Beathan’s mind was reeling. It took him a while to remember the chain of events leading up to him lying there. Then it all came back; the horses, the chase across the wet glen; everything.

“Och, it’s nothing,” said Beathan, diplomatically. “I guess I’ve got used to ye trying to kill me. I dinnae take it personally anymore!” he quipped, but he stopped when he saw her face.

Edme wasn’t laughing. She looked as if she might cry, but brought her face close to his so that he could almost taste her soft lips.

Memories of the kiss they shared came flooding back to him. He was about to lean forward and taste her again, but something held him back: her eyes. Inside those deep gray-blue mirrors, tears were forming. Instinctively, Beathan backed away and placed a hand on her shoulder. Just the act of moving caused him pain, a huge bolt searing across his shoulders, but he somehow managed.

“Edme, what is it?” he asked, breathless. “Ye saved me. If ye hadn’t been there, I’d have..,” he began, but Edme turned to face him defiantly, her pale face shaking.

“…been home, someplace safe, nae chasing about the countryside at all hours after some total eejit!” she said, turning her head away penitently. “This is all my fault. I should nae have run away. I should nae have come here at all!” she said, about to break down.

But Beathan wouldn’t let her; he brought his finger to her lips to silence her. “Hush,” he said. “I saved ye, and now ye have saved me; we’re a team,” he said. The words which came out of his mouth surprised him as much as they did her.

“A team? Ye think we’re a team?” asked Edme, unsure, opening her eyes wide. Beathan found himself swimming in them.

“…Aye, a team. An’ I reckon we are a pretty unstoppable one, too!” said Beathan, leaning in a little closer to her, hoping to draw her back.

He had forgotten her hesitation after their kiss and the way she had pulled away so suddenly, so when Edme pulled away from him again, he looked up in shock.

“I… I’m sorry!” Beathan said, apologizing. “I didnae mean to…. I thought ye…?” he left the words lingering in the air, his hand outstretched hoping to connect with hers.

For a moment, they stood frozen, until Beathan, giving a little sigh, withdrew his hand. “I…,” he began. But to his surprise, Edme brought her hand back to touch his. Her fist closed over his hand, and she held it tightly.

“Nae, it’s alright. Ye’ve nothing to be sorry for. As I said, it’s me who should be sorry, an’ for what it’s worth, I do think we make a good team,” she said, leaning in so close that Beathan could feel her breath.

“Yer like my calm side, the sensible part,” she said. Beathan felt his heart stir painfully. Right then, he didn’t feel very sensible.

Despite every fiber longing to kiss her, Beathan resisted. He wanted to do it so badly, but he wasn’t sure how it would be received.