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Three tortuous days passed before they finally made it to the mountains and found a cave to rest in. Abby didn’t have to worry about keeping her distance from Iain during that time because he was staying as far from her as he could. She knew he had a lot on his mind—so did she—but other than keeping her warm at night, he hardly said a word.
She eyed the four-legged beast and screwed up her face. She didn’t want to get back on the horse that morning. Her entire body was just too sore. “Can’t we stay here for another day?” She didn’t like the whine in her voice, but she couldn’t help it.
Iain finished putting out the fire and made his way into the small cave they had spent the night in. As he passed Abby, he paused. “It’s only been three days, Abigail.”
“Three of the worst days of my life.”
“I am sorry ye are in pain, but we have to keep moving.”
Abby nearly snorted. He didn’t sound sorry. Since the near kiss three days before, an invisible wall had gone up between them. He was colder and kept to himself most of the time. They hardly talked, and even when they did, it was only because Abby asked questions of their surroundings and he had to answer or be overtly rude.
She eyed Iain saddling the horse and screwed up her face. They had bought the saddle from an old couple at a farmhouse, and while it was slightly more comfortable than bareback, it still hurt her back, butt, and thighs.
Abby stood up, moaning and rubbing her back. Iain never even glanced in her direction. The oaf was ignoring her. “I’ll check to make sure we have everything,” she said, and stomped into the cave.
By the time she exited the cave, Iain was ready and waiting. She let out a small huff and allowed him to help her onto the horse. The movement was getting easier with practice. Abby understood if she did a little jump at the same time Iain lifted, she didn’t have to scramble so much and make the horse jittery. She quickly threw her leg over and waited for Iain to mount behind the saddle. She supposed she should be thankful. At least she had the saddle. The poor man had to sit on the horse’s back behind, and that couldn’t have been comfortable.
***
Another week passed, and Abby couldn’t take the tension between them any longer. Yes, her body was getting used to the hours upon hours of riding. So much so, she was sure she had callouses on her butt. Either that or she had become accustomed to being numb and thought that was her normal. She guessed it was, at least until she got home and sat in comfy chairs and slept on a real bed.
Stopping that night, Iain once again caught a rabbit that he roasted on a wet stick over a fire. Watching him pour water on the stick so it wouldn’t burn had Abby smiling. She would have never thought to do that, and her chest warmed at his inventiveness.
After removing the rabbit, Iain handed her the full torso and munched down on the thighs and legs. She made a face, trying to make him take more, but as always, he said, “Eat. You need your strength. We still have a long way to go.”
She tried to argue. “Fine, but what about you? You’re bigger than me, and you’re the one who hunts, looks after the horse, and cooks.”
He gave her a wide smile, and little lines appeared at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Her heart skipped a beat. That was the smile she’d been hoping for since she’d met him.
“I believe ye are right,” he said. “Ye can cook from now on.”
Abby’s mouth fell open, and she stared at her piece of rabbit.
He laughed. “Ye’ve been watching me since the first time I cooked that stew. Surely ye have learned something.”
Thinking about the way he wet the roasting sticks, she screwed up her nose and said, “I suppose I have, and I suppose I can at least try, but you can’t complain, all right?”
“That is fair. Now eat.”
Abby did what she was told and tried to remember what he’d put in that stew. If she made enough, they would both have full stomachs.
After another long day’s riding, they finally stopped near a small stream. The water was so clean, Abby could see the floor of small rocks on the bottom.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Aye, and cold,” Iain mumbled as he looked after the horse. He found a stick, and picking up each hoof, he cleaned it and gently placed it back on the ground. After he finished, he patted the horse on its rump and watched it walk to the water’s edge. He seemed preoccupied as he and Abby collected some wood for a small fire.
“I won’t be long.”
He didn’t need to say where he was going. Abby knew he was hoping to find another rabbit. She made a face. If she never saw another rabbit again, it would be too soon.
Before he disappeared into the brush, he turned and pierced her with his gaze. “Stay here and don’t wander away. I won’t be far.”
“I know what to do,” she said, staring hard back at him.
He chuckled and left.
She growled. “I’m not stupid, and he should know that by now.” She stomped down to the water’s edge. “Why does he always have to tell me what to do?”
She sucked in a breath. She knew why he was always telling her not to wander, to stay close to their camping area. He just wanted her to be safe, and she couldn’t fault him for that. In fact, she had to admit that she quite liked it.
Dipping her hands in the freezing wet, she laughed as she splashed it on her face.
Refreshed and feeling alive once more, Abby spotted nettle growing a small distance away. She quickly filled the cooking pot they carried with them with water and placed it on the fire. Excited about finally making a stew, she made her way to the nettles and, using her skirt over her hands, picked a good-sized bunch.
In no time, she had the nettle broth simmering perfectly, and she sat back, waiting for Iain.
Iain returned, but his hands were empty. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find any rabbits.”
He looked so forlorn, it was all Abby could do not to jump up and hug him. Instead, she looked at the simmering broth and then smiled up at him. “That’s okay. We’ll just have to have soup. Do you like nettle soup?”
He visibly relaxed. Did he think she was going to be angry at him for not bringing meat?
He plonked down beside her. “I love it.”
More days passed. Sometimes they had rabbit, sometimes they had broth, and sometimes they had nothing.
The days weren’t so bad, and the hours fled when they talked about their homes, although Abby got the impression Iain kept his stories lighthearted because he didn’t want to share more with her. She, on the other hand, only spoke about the stuff that could happen in any time, no specifics, just generalizations. More than once, she caught Iain’s wary look. He must have known she was keeping things from him, but thank goodness, he never said anything.
Sleeping next to Iain was another thing, though. It was getting harder every night to lie there and pretend to fall asleep. She kept waking up more and more, trying to snuggle in closer to him, not for the cold, but for the alien feelings his closeness sent thrumming through her body. She knew she had to be careful, but she also knew she was getting to like the man. He was generous when it came to food, insisting Abby take her fill. He was protective with not letting Abby stray too far away from him. He was kind, both to her when he thought she was tired, and to the horse when he stopped to let it drink and eat. Each time, he cleaned its hooves and checked its legs.
It seemed the last few nights, all she could think of was kissing him again, and she’d come close to doing just that before she caught herself leaning toward him whenever they stood close together.
She inwardly shook the thought of his lips on hers out of her mind and focused on their surroundings.
Iain kept the horse moving closer to the bottom of the mountains. She gazed up. Snow still clung to the top of the mountains, but Iain had said it was summer, so she guessed the snow would melt in time.
It was still cold where they were, but the sun shone more often than before. After a few hours, Abby spied another small stream.
“Look, water.”
“Aye, we’ll rest here for a bit.”
Once the horse had its fill of water, Abby found a grassy edge where she could sit. She took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the stream. It was still freezing but not as bad as previously, and she kept them submerged until she became used to the temperature. She wriggled out of the cloak and, scooping up handfuls of water, washed her face. Her hair would have to wait until they got somewhere warmer.
Glancing behind her, she saw Iain was still tending to the horse. He appeared engrossed with its hooves, so she took off her vest and undid the buttons on her shirt. Without taking it off completely, she washed under her arms as best she could. Standing up to use her skirt to dry herself, she half turned and froze.
Iain was watching her with a peculiar expression cast on his face. No matter how long she spent with him, she couldn’t make out his moods.
“You stay there,” Abby said, spinning back to face the stream.
“Aye.”
She quickly dried herself and buttoned up her shirt. Once she’d put on the vest and cloak again, she turned around and came face to face with Iain.
“I am sorry the accommodations aren’t more suitable for a woman such as yerself.”
“They’re fine.” She ducked her head and moved to make her way around the tree.
Iain held her arm as she passed, and she stopped and looked up at him expectantly. Those weird tingly feelings started zinging through her body again.
His gaze seemed to take in her whole face but settled on her lips.
Abby couldn’t stop her body from leaning toward him if she tried, and she didn’t bother trying. She knew he wanted to kiss her, and blast it all, she wanted to kiss him. Her eyes began to close, but he let her go.
“The horse is lame,” he said.
“Lame?”
“Aye, it means he can’t be ridden anymore.”
Abby frowned. She was sure he wanted to kiss her, and she was even more sure she would have let him. “I know what lame means.”
She couldn’t help her bottom lip dropping and turned away so he wouldn’t see her pout. Feeling a little silly at her reaction, Abby hurried to the fire Iain had built. She let the warmth soak into her cold skin and relaxed somewhat, but her mind wouldn’t stop reminding her how much she’d wanted him to take her into his arms and kiss her. She also kept wondering why he hadn’t taken the opportunity. Surely if he wanted to kiss her, that would have been the perfect time to do it. Maybe. Was she wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time.
***
Iain tarried with the horse while Abigail warmed herself by the fire. He glanced her way but took a second, longer look when he realized her eyes were shut. She frowned, and he wondered what she was thinking . . . if she was thinking about how close they had come to kissing . . . again.
He shook his head. He had to control his actions around her all the time. He didn’t know why he’d stopped her from walking past him, but just touching her arm had his mind whirling and all logical thought seemed to fly away. He had stepped forward, and without conscious thought, he’d intended to kiss her, but the snap of a branch under his boot pulled him back to reality. He didn’t know if he was thankful for that or not, but he had to acknowledge it was for the best. She would soon go back to her family, and he, too, would return to his family and responsibilities. He gazed at her as she lifted her face to the sky. The sun shining on her bronze hair made his chest tighten, and when she smiled, an ache he had never felt before shot through his heart.
He snapped his gaze from her to the horse. He had to find her treasure and return her to her family before he did something he couldn’t undo.
When he thought she’d had enough time to rest, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Time to go.”
She made a face at him but got to her feet.
He had no choice but to leave the horse, hoping someone would find it and nurse it back to health.
He decided they would have to make their way through the forest. It would be a harder walk, but safer than the roads. As they trudged up a slight rise, he hoped walking would exhaust him and he would finally be able to get some sleep that night.
He was finding it increasingly harder to stay away from the lass. She was not only beautiful, but she was stronger than she looked. Not too many lasses would have endured what she had since she’d met him, especially ones of high breeding. She never complained. A grin spread over his face. Well, hardly ever, but that was in the beginning, and he understood it was only because her body ached with the abuse it had been subjected to as she rode the horse.
They were three days out of Rum, and a thought crossed Iain’s mind that he could stray off course without the lass’s knowledge. His family and clan had almost certainly given him up for dead by now. They would already be adjusting to a life without their laird.
He glanced at Abigail. He wanted to spend more time with her. He knew she was keeping secrets, and although he wanted nothing more in the world than to have her trust him enough to tell him such confidences, he had no right to demand she share them. After all, not only were they from two different worlds—him, a Highlander, and she a wealthy American—but they would soon part, him to go home and resume his duties as laird of his clan, and her, back to America.
No. He had to keep his distance, and the only way to do that was to get to Rum and send her to her family.
A pain shot through his heart at the thought of her boarding a coach and leaving him behind.
The crack of a branch snapping pulled him out of his reverie, and he glanced back.
How he hadn’t noticed before that moment, he didn’t know, but Abigail sounded like a herd of horses crashing through the undergrowth.
Iain stopped and whispered when she got close enough. “Ye must try to walk more softly. Look where ye place your feet and don’t stand on dry sticks or branches.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes and Iain thought she was going to argue with him, but she said, “Okay, then, I’ll try.”
Their pace had slowed somewhat, but having asked Abigail to be careful, he couldn’t possibly ask her to now hurry.
As they walked, Iain couldn’t get visions of kissing her from his mind. His logical side knew he had to keep his distance. It was his duty as laird to strengthen his clan, and to that end, he must marry Fiona MacKinnon, but his heart, his body, wanted nothing more than to be with the strange girl clomping through the undergrowth, to hear her laugh.
He glanced back. She seemed to be concentrating on placing her feet. She was trying so hard to be quiet but also to keep up her pace. It was as if she didn’t want to slow him down, and he smiled.
He suspected she was used to a lady’s life and that she’d never traveled so hard for so long. But she was a fighter. He saw that in the way she tried to protect the MacDonald women, the way she wouldn’t give up on him when he was feverish, the way she swallowed her fear and pain and rode the horse for as long as she did.
She was something special, and Iain needed to know more about her.
As soon as the path widened, he held back and walked beside her.
“Tell me more about yer family. Is it a hard life in America?”
“No, not hard, exactly, just different. We have nice houses, but we all work for them. There are no royals or gentry. We are all equal, um, some more equal than others, of course. And while the last election was close, we still have a male president.”
“As it should be.”
“What? Why?”
“Men are stronger. It is their place to protect, fight for their families, their clans.” A picture of his ma came to mind, and he chuckled. “Of course, that is how it seems on the outside, but I know from experience it is not always the men who rule.”
Abigail smiled. “Oh? How so?”
“Some women, like my mother, are too strong to be suppressed. My father not only loved my mother, but he listened to her council above all others.”
“Your father sounds like he was a sensible man.”
“Either sensible or henpecked.”
Abigail stopped and peered at him. “Sensible,” she said as if there were no argument.
Iain laughed. “Aye.”
That night, Iain stretched out in their makeshift bed and gazed at the stars. It was a wonderous night, still cold enough that he once again risked a fire, but for some reason, the ground felt more comfortable, the stars were brighter, and the moon’s glow shone on Abigail’s locks whenever he chanced a glance her way.
The lass was also looking up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful when it’s not raining.”
Iain ignored the lass’s habit of complaining about the rain. “Aye. I haven’t been to America, but I’ve traveled through Europe, and the further south I went, the sky seemed to drift higher. The stars here are so close, I sometimes think I can pluck them from the sky.”
“I admit I find the life here hard, but I will miss it when I leave.”
A jolt shot through him at her mention of leaving. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to stay with her as long as he could, to learn her ways, to understand her. The thought crossed his mind he could go to America. He silently snorted. No. In another time and another place, he might have had that choice, but his role was decided for him at the moment of his birth. He had to stay to lead and protect his clan.
Images of the keep, his sister, and his friends flitted across his mind, and he knew then he would never leave Scotland.
He sat up and looked at Abigail, still watching the night sky.
“Even had I the choice, I wouldna want to live anywhere else.”
Her bottom lip dropped, parting her lips, and she let out a soft sigh.
That was Iain’s undoing. He rolled over to his side and scooped her up in his arms, and before she had a chance to object, he brushed his lips over hers. She gasped in surprise, not fright, but didn’t pull away.
He kept kissing her, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. His heart jumped into his throat at her acquiescence. The kiss was deep and long, and Iain had to fist his hands in her cloak to stop them from roaming where they shouldn’t. He kept kissing her until a moan from deep in her throat sparked in his brain.
He knew then he could take her, but he also knew he couldn’t let his base emotions rule him. He was a ruler; he was stronger than that. She pulled back, but only far enough to nibble at his bottom lip. Another moan sounded, but this time, it was from deep within his chest, and he held her tighter.
She gazed up into his eyes.
Heated passion whirled in her stormy eyes, and he answered, bending his head to kiss her again, but hesitated. She wriggled closer to him, giving him consent to continue, yet although he wanted her physically, he realized at that moment, if he continued, he would never let her go. He would follow her to the ends of the earth just to taste her full pink lips. He wanted more. He wanted her heart, her soul, her everything. But he couldn’t have any of those things without knowing what secrets she harbored.
He let her go and stood up.
Staring down at her large confused eyes, he said, “We have to talk.”
She closed her eyes and bit her lip. “Now?”