Chapter 8

The next day Cait had just finished serving her visitors lunch and was bringing the bowls and mugs into the kitchen when she spied Black Cat sitting by the front door, looking at it intently. Her heart began to hammer and the dishes rattled in her hand. She quickly put them down. “Someone’s coming,” she called down the stairs as quietly as possible.

The man at the bottom of the steps nodded even as his face paled. He shushed the others, and Cait quickly closed the trapdoor and pushed the chair over it.

Taking a quick glance around to make sure everything looked in place, she opened the door to find Halloway and his two men dismounting.

Halloway grinned and waved at her. Cait smiled and waved back, but her heart was thundering and she had to breathe deeply to control it.

“How’s yer back?” she asked as they approached. She remained in the doorway, hoping they wouldn’t ask to enter.

Halloway grimaced. “It still pains me, but yer poultice helps.”

“Did ye come for more?”

“No. We were patrolling and stopped to check on you.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m fine. Truly I am.”

“Ye’re all alone out here,” Halloway said hesitantly.

What was it with these men who thought they should protect her? “I like it that way.”

Halloway looked down at the toe of his boot, then back up at her. “There were men here the other time we came by. You didn’t seem comfortable with them.”

“That was Iain Campbell, chief of clan Campbell, and his commander, who was hurt.”

“You don’t like him, the chief.”

“I like him well enough.” She was surprised to discover that she was telling the truth. Her anger was not nearly as intense as it had been at one time.

Halloway shot a pointed glance at the two men behind him. Immediately, they moved to the edge of the woods. Cait kept her eye on them and wished them all away.

Halloway had first arrived at her cottage much like Campbell had, with an injured man.

She’d patched up the soldier, and while she was doing so, Halloway had complained of his bad back, and she’d given him a poultice. During his periodic visits, she’d learned that he was the fifth child of minor gentry with no prospects but the priesthood or the military. He liked the military well enough but missed England. He wasn’t comfortable with the fighting but didn’t mind the patrolling. He preferred keeping the peace rather than destroying it.

Against her will, she’d grown to like him. He was open and honest and kind, and his initial shyness had endeared him to her. She wouldn’t necessarily call him a friend, but neither was he an enemy.

Their conversations had never gone past the superficial. She’d never told him about John or Christina. He’d never asked about a husband or family, and he’d never stayed longer than half an hour.

He took a step closer, and it took everything inside Cait not to step back. Black Cat wound around her ankles, his soft fur tickling her.

“I know we don’t know each other well, and I’m English and you’re Scottish.” He laughed nervously and glanced back at the other soldiers. “I like you, Cait, and I worry about you all alone out here.”

For a moment her mind went blank before thoughts collided with each other. Oh, no. Please, no.

She was nice to Halloway because it gained her a small bit of freedom from the English eyes, but in no way had she intended for feelings to become involved.

“Sergeant Halloway—”

He held up his hand. His face was red and he shifted from one foot to another. “I wanted to tell you this the last time I was here, but Campbell was here as well, and you appeared so nervous…” He licked his lips and shifted again, looking so much like a lad fresh out of the nursery rather than a soldier who had fought in a bloody battle just weeks ago. “I think about you all the time,” he whispered, not looking at her.

Cait closed her eyes. “Oh, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I understand that this is unexpected. Just think about what I’ve said and…I want you to know that my prospects are good, and if you want to get out of Scotland to a better place, I can take you to England with me. I have some money set aside, and we’d live in a nicer cottage than this on my parents’ land. Not that this isn’t a nice cottage,” he hurriedly added.

Cait wanted to be offended, but she just couldn’t. He meant well, and he clearly believed that he would be delivering her to a better place if she followed him to England. He had no idea what their lives would be like—she a dreaded Scot in England. He’d be shunned, his career ruined.

“Sergeant.” While she didn’t want to offend him, she knew that if she turned down his advances, she could make a powerful enemy.

“Don’t say anything yet. Just think about it.” His smile was wobbly and embarrassed, and she wondered if she was the first woman he’d ever approached. Oh, Lord. This was so bad in so many different ways.

Mute, Cait watched as Halloway and the others rode away. Her hands were shaking so hard when she closed the door that she fumbled with the latch. She had only enough strength to stumble to the settee and slump into it. Black Cat jumped into her lap and rubbed his face against Cait’s cheek.

“Oh, Lord,” she whispered.

Turning Halloway down would be disastrous for her, but agreeing to go to England was out of the question. The thought of lying and telling him she would go, getting his hopes up, seemed so wrong.

She grabbed Black Cat and held him to her, finding little comfort in the soft fur and warm body.

Sutherland arrived the next day to move the refugees. It was rare that she saw him two days in a row, because he liked to spend as much time as possible with his wife and preferred to let his men move the fugitives.

“I asked around,” he said as soon as he entered the cottage.

She was still shaken by her encounter with Halloway and had no clear answer for how to proceed. Asking for Sutherland’s advice would be the most commonsense thing to do, but she knew what his reaction would be. For the most part, Highlander men were alike. They hated the English and they protected their own and they fiercely protected the women. Sutherland would vehemently disagree with her reasoning, and he might even stop bringing the refugees to her. She didn’t want that. She wanted to keep helping.

“Asked around about what?” she asked as she shut the door behind him.

He frowned at her. “About the burning of Campbell’s crop and the droving.”

“Oh. That.”

“Are you ill?” Sutherland asked in worry.

“No.” She laughed weakly. “Of course no’.”

He considered her for a bit longer. “Ye’re acting strange.”

“I’m fine. I promise. What did ye learn?”

He watched her for a few more moments before finally saying, “No one is taking credit for the burning of the field. MacGregor has always been vocal about his hatred toward Campbell, but he’s been surprisingly quiet lately.”

“Which tells us nothing,” she said.

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and let ye know if I hear anything.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Now I have a question for ye,” he said. “Why isn’t Campbell asking these questions?”

She shrugged. “He probably is, but I thought I’d ask ye.”

Luckily, he let the topic drop and she was relieved. She was sick enough as it was, with Halloway’s proposal hanging over her head.