As they rode away from Cait’s cottage, Palmer was contemplative and Iain was silently fuming. He was furious at Palmer for questioning Cait so harshly and with Cait for harboring those damn fugitives. It was getting far too dangerous for her, what with the murders and the extra English patrols.
“Where would you like to go next?” Iain asked, not relishing spending more time with Palmer. But after that escapade, with Palmer clearly aggressive toward his people, Iain was not letting the man roam freely on Campbell land. Iain had never seen Palmer that way. With Iain, he was affable and a bit of a jester. The way he’d treated Cait was unacceptable, and Iain had tried to defend her as much as possible. It didn’t help that she had been visibly terrified and that Palmer had latched on to that.
“I think I’ve had enough for the day,” Palmer said quietly.
Iain looked behind him to make sure the four soldiers were far enough back. “Surely you don’t suspect Cait Campbell of the murders,” Iain said.
“I’ve made no determination either way.”
“Cait’s husband was my commander and loyal to me. I will personally vouch for her.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Palmer said.
“It’s only that I firmly believe she had nothing to do with any of this.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Campbell. I know you are loyal to England, but I can’t blindly trust everyone named Campbell. Why do you think she had so many loaves of bread?”
Damn you, Cait Campbell. “Because she feeds those in need.”
Palmer glanced at him. “Isn’t that your responsibility?”
“She helps wherever she can.” That was not a lie.
They came into sight of the big house. “I’ll leave you here,” Palmer said. “I’m off to speak to Halloway.”
Cait was waiting at her open door when he rode up.
He marched toward her, so angry that he had no idea what he was going to say or do. As if sensing this, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
He stopped so close to her that her skirts brushed the top of his boots.
And then he did something surprising. He hugged her, nearly crushing her to him as he breathed in the scent of bread and muted roses.
“Damn you,” he whispered. “I came here to give you a dressing-down and command you to stop helping Sutherland. Damn you.” He drew in a shuddering breath and pulled back to brush the stray locks of hair from her face so he could cup her cheeks in his palms. “This can’t go on.”
She stepped away and put her fingers to her lips. “Around back.”
Iain followed her around the side of the cottage. They sat on a rickety bench pushed up against the side of the barn, where they had a view of the back of the house, the side paddock, and the trees. It was a good vantage point and a good place to talk privately.
He leaned his head back and blew out a weary breath. His time with Palmer this afternoon had been more stressful than he’d realized, and only now did he begin to relax. Funny that he could allow himself to relax around Cait.
“It has to stop,” he said again.
“Nay.”
“Cait…” No one had ever shaken him the way Cait Campbell did. He’d always prided himself on the fact that no matter what was thrown his way, he would accept it calmly and handle it efficiently. But Cait challenged his calm, and that frustrated him.
“You were almost caught today,” he said, bravely attempting to control his rising ire.
“But I wasn’t.”
“Not yet. But what about tomorrow? Or the next day or the day after that? Eventually, your luck will run out, and then what?”
“And then I will figure it out.”
He breathed deep to control his anger and his fear. It was his fear for her safety that was the most overwhelming. He didn’t think he’d ever been this scared for anyone, and it was a confusing emotion. “So you will repeatedly risk your life?”
“I will do what I have to for these people who are hunted like animals. If ye could see the hopelessness inside of them, Iain, ye would understand.”
“I do understand—”
“Ye don’t or ye wouldn’t ask me to stop.”
“Cait…please…can we speak without arguing?”
“Who’s arguing? I’m not arguing.”
If he hadn’t been so damn weary and scared, he would have laughed at her belligerence. “You’re disagreeing with everything I say.”
“That’s not arguing. That’s disagreeing.”
He sucked in air through his front teeth. “Cait…” he said in warning.
She held up her hand. “Say what ye came here to say. I’ll no’ interrupt, but that means when ye’re finished, it’s my turn and ye’ll no’ interrupt.”
“Fair enough.” Although he wasn’t certain he could hold up his end of that bargain.
She nodded regally. “Proceed.”
“Palmer could have easily found the people you were hiding.” There. That sounded much better and less antagonistic. “And I would not have been able to save you.” He waited for her to agree with him, but true to her word, she did not interrupt. “English soldiers were killed not far from here, and you’re hiding their enemies in your home. You have to realize that this is not only dangerous but irresponsible and inadvisable. I’m asking you to please stop.”
She waited to make sure he was finished, and then she took a deep breath. “While I don’t believe Palmer would have discovered the fugitives, I respect your concern.”
He opened his mouth to say that Palmer had discovered her many loaves of bread and would make a connection, but she put her finger against his lips to silence him. “It’s my turn.” She pulled away, and he had a need to grab her finger and bring it back to his lips for a kiss. “I’ve had English soldiers in my home before while harboring the refugees. The Scotsmen know the rules, and they know when to be quiet, but that’s beside the point.” She shifted toward him and folded her hands in her lap. “I canno’ and I will no’ stop. I won’t even argue that these people need me, because ye know they do. Frankly, I’m disappointed in ye for asking me to stop when so many people need our help.” She looked off in the distance, and Iain watched the play of sunshine across her skin. “After John died, I…I died, too. I’d lost my daughter the year before, and suddenly, the man I loved with all my heart was gone as well. There seemed no reason to go on. I was empty. I moved out here because I could face no one. But being a healer doesn’t give me the luxury of pity or solitude. People still needed my help, and I couldn’t turn them away.”
Iain didn’t want to hear about John but knew they both needed to face it if he had any hope of a relationship with Cait.
“One day Sutherland came to me with a wounded man. I fixed him—his injury wasn’t that great—and Sutherland and I started talking. He’d recently lost his healer and asked if I’d want to move closer to his home and become the Sutherland healer. I considered it. But I couldn’t do it. As much as I hated you and blamed you for John’s death…” She glanced at Iain to gauge his reaction to that statement. “I couldn’t leave Campbell land, so I said I would no’ leave but would help him when I could. Culloden came and went. I helped a few wounded Scotsmen who found their way to me, and I even helped a few English soldiers. It didn’t bother me, helping the English soldiers. They were wounded and needed my care just as much as my countrymen. I was a healer. I healed. That was my calling. And through my calling, I found purpose.
“A few weeks after Culloden, Sutherland told me about his…clandestine activities. He was in desperate straits because he had so many people fleeing Scotland that he didn’t know what to do with them. He and I prepared the old cellar in the cottage. We enlarged it, made it more comfortable, reinforced the stairs, and built a new trapdoor. And soon I had a steady stream of people who were more desperate than I had ever been. Like me, they’d lost everything, and they were still willing to carry on. The least—the very least—I could do was give them a place to stay and food in their bellies.
“My purpose grew, and with that growth, my grief diminished. I’d lost a husband and a daughter. They’d lost their entire family, their clan, and they were about to lose their country. How could I not help?” She looked him in the eye. “How can I not continue to help them? For one night, I’m all that stands between them and death, all because they fought for the country they love. And maybe in a way I saw John in the men who came through here. Because he was so passionate about Scotland’s freedom, he easily could have been one of them. Don’t ye see? I can’t stop no matter how much ye rail and yell and demand.”
“I don’t rail and yell,” he said, slightly offended.
She laughed, and he was glad to see that he could make her laugh even though his thoughts were heavy and there was grief in her eyes.
“So you won’t cease your activities,” he said.
“I will no’.”
“I worry about you.”
“No need. What will happen will happen.”
“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“We are responsible for our own actions in this life.”
He felt drained, hollowed out. He couldn’t imagine how Cait must feel.
She wiped at her eyes and stood to shake out her skirts. “I’m sure ye have plenty to do besides yammering away with me.”
“There’s nowhere I want to be more,” he said, not thinking about his words, just saying what he felt, because what had Cait said? That they were responsible for their own actions in this life? He’d always been responsible, always weighing his words, his actions, his expressions. He never did anything without thinking through the consequences. But right now, right here, he didn’t want to think about anything except the warm sun on his face and the peacefulness of Cait’s barn.
There was something to be said for living so far from everyone else.
Cait sat back down beside him. “I can’t remember the last time I sat outside and just enjoyed the weather.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever sat outside for the pure enjoyment.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is.”
They fell into a comfortable silence. Iain’s eyes grew heavy, and he let them close while he listened to the birds and the slight breeze that rustled through the leaves of the trees.
“I want to make love to you,” he said.