Alice had her baby later that morning. A strapping bundle of boy. Iain insisted on escorting Cait to the cottage, and by the time they got there, Alice was ready to push that baby into the world. He came out squalling, with an excellent set of lungs and alert eyes. Really, all Cait was needed for was to catch the wee lad as he slithered into her hands.
Birthing babies was one of her favorite things to do; she loved being the first one to touch a baby and hold it and see it take its first breath. But she was emotionally wrung out afterward, as she always thought of Christina. Her beautiful, sweet Christina, whom she had struggled to bring into the world. It had not been an easy birth, but oh, how worth it she had been, healthy and strong, if tiny. She had flourished and always been such a well-behaved lass.
Cait left Alice, the babe, and the three other children to go in search of Iain. He was sitting under a tree with the new father, Sean, drinking ale and telling tall tales, no doubt. Sean stood immediately and anxiously searched Cait’s face.
“She’s fine, and so is the babe. Go on and see her. Find out what ye’ve got there.” She watched, smiling, as Sean loped off, half pissed with drink. “Ye two were having a fine time drinking out here while Alice did all the laboring.”
“It’s hard work being a man and having to sit outside feeling helpless. The drink helped calm him.”
“Well, then ye did a fine job, because he’s very calm.”
He shrugged and grinned. “I try.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. The tree was big enough for both of them to lean against, and Cait rested her head against the rough bark with a deep sigh. They held hands and sat in silence while the birds sang in the tree above them and the warm breeze nearly lulled her to sleep. Neither of them had slept much the night before, and she could easily fall asleep right here.
“You did good in there,” Iain said.
She turned her head to look at him. “Ye weren’t even in there.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t need to be to know you did good. I’ve seen you with your patients. You’re a good healer.”
“Thank ye.” She was inordinately pleased by his praise.
He held up their linked hands. “Sometimes I tend to forget what these hands can do. I’ve seen you dig a pistol ball out of Adair and tend to those who were burned in the fire.” He kissed her fingers. “And just a wee bit ago, you delivered a babe.”
“Really, I just caught him. Alice did all the work.”
He turned his head so they were almost nose to nose. “Don’t discredit what you do. It’s vital, and I want you to know that I would never ask you to stop being a healer. I understand that it’s a large part of who you are.”
She smiled at him. “I’m glad ye understand that about me.”
He lowered their hands to rest on his hard thigh. “I understand more than you think. I understand that birthing babies takes something out of you. I can see it in your eyes right now. You’re thinking about your own wee one.”
She pulled in a surprised breath and turned her head away, discomfited that he’d reached so far down into her soul and seen the dark part of her that was jealous of Alice and her four beautiful, healthy babes when Cait couldn’t even keep the one she’d been given.
“It’s not wrong, what you’re feeling,” Iain said. “I imagine it’s quite natural.”
“Ye can stop any time now,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion.
“I guess what I’m saying,” he continued, ignoring her, “is that I don’t want you to ever be afraid of talking about your Christina. Or John. They’re both a large part of you and who you are. Don’t turn your back on those memories because of me. I know…” He cleared his throat. “I know you blame me for John’s death.” He squeezed her fingers. “I blame myself as well. I hope that we can get past that someday.”
The warm, bright day turned a bit chillier and dim. She hoped that someday thoughts of John and Christina wouldn’t cause her world to darken. “I used to blame ye for John’s death, but in truth I was directing my anger at ye when I should have directed it at John. John died doing what he wanted to do. Ye say that being a healer is what I am. John was a warrior, and he laid down his life for his fellow warrior and chief. I miss him terribly some days, and I’m dreadfully angry at him some days, but mostly, I’m proud of him for taking that pistol ball that was meant for ye.”
They fell into a companionable silence, and the sun became brighter and the breeze warmer. Maybe that was how it happened. Maybe the coldness and darkness faded over time until there was only warmth and light and good memories.
“How do ye do it?” she asked. “How do ye see so deeply inside of me like that?”
“I don’t know. I just do. I’ve never been able to do it with anyone else. What do you think about that?”
“I don’t know.” She shied away from those thoughts, not willing to delve into them just yet.
“I think you do.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “We should go before Sean comes out here wondering what we’re doing.”
Cait checked on the mother and baby one more time before she and Iain left the newly expanded family with the promise that Cait would return tomorrow. They rode back to the big house in a comfortable silence that ended when they were confronted by Palmer. “I have news,” he said.
Cait tensed, waiting for the worst, although she didn’t know what that would be anymore. Iain moved closer until their shoulders were touching, and she was grateful for the silent support.
“Lieutenant Donaldson has been reassigned starting immediately. He’s been transferred to the northern Highland region.”
“Truly?” Cait had convinced herself that the incident was not as serious as she’d first believed. She’d felt that she made it more than it really was, and being with Iain had given her a sense of safety. Or at least she’d thought it had. But hearing Palmer say that Donaldson was going very far away made her weak with relief.
“You have my thanks, Captain,” Iain said.
“When does he leave?” she asked.
“Today. He was given no choice. I want to extend my apologies, Mrs. Campbell, on behalf of the English army. That is not how an English officer is supposed to act.”
“You can’t go back.” Iain stepped in front of her to block her from walking out the front door.
She pulled up short. “I can’t stay here.”
“Of course you can.”
“I won’t stay here. I’ll no’ have people talking about me like that, and I’ll no’ have it go around that I’m yer mistress.”
He didn’t move.
“Iain, please. Ye’re acting foolish.”
“I’m acting foolish? Because I care about you?”
“If ye care, then ye’ll let me go. Ye know where I am, and ye know ye’re always welcome. But I have a home to go back to and…” She looked around. There was no one lurking about, but that didn’t mean that ears weren’t pressed to doors or eyes weren’t looking through locks. “And I have obligations to meet.”
His expression wavered and he stepped away. She smiled at him, knowing how difficult it was to let her go. He worried about her, she understood that, but she refused to let her life be ruled by fear when it was already ruled by fear of commitment. This was something she’d only just realized about herself, thanks to Iain. She was afraid of having any sort of relationship, whether it be friendships with other women or a romantic relationship with Iain or any other man. She couldn’t even give her cat a proper name because she feared he wouldn’t stay around long.
But knowing about her problem and fixing it were two different things, and she wondered if she was beyond fixing. Maybe she was too scarred to ever be a person who could trust again. Maybe she would always be broken.
She walked out of the big house. The front was now a manicured lawn rather than the upper bailey of old. Things were changing rapidly, and Iain was at the forefront of those changes. She didn’t like many of them, but she was beginning to understand them thanks to Iain.
Her mount was waiting for her, the reins held by a young lad who smiled as he handed them over. She quickly mounted.
Iain was standing in the open doorway watching her. She’d insisted on leaving alone, needing to do this. She refused to let Donaldson take her freedom or her independence. She was nervous but knew this was something she had to do, just as she knew that it was driving Iain mad that she would not allow him to accompany her.
“I’ll check on you tonight,” he said.
“Ye don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
She grinned, allowing him this, because if she didn’t, he would do what he wanted in the end. She could push him only so far. “Tonight, then.” With a confident wave, she rode off. It felt good to be alone with her thoughts without Iain hovering about.
As she had predicted, the ride home was uneventful. She encountered no miscreants or murderers, as Iain had feared she would. The road was deserted, and she enjoyed her freedom and her thoughts. She was at peace at the far edges of Campbell land. But was it a false sense of peace? Would she be at peace elsewhere if she only allowed herself to be?
These thoughts were exhausting, but she also knew they were needed. It was time to question her life. Although the way she lived had served her well in the years after John’s death, she was beginning to realize that what worked for her then would not necessarily serve her in the future. Change was frightening, but sometimes staying in the same place was more frightening.
She was and was not surprised to see Graham sitting outside her cottage. So much for being alone and at peace. She dismounted as he stood.
“I heard ye had trouble with the damn redcoats,” he said gruffly.
“Word travels quickly,” she said as she led her horse around back.
Graham followed, grumbling about the damn redcoats.
“The trouble is gone,” she said. “Iain and Captain Palmer took care of it.”
Graham snorted. “Ye put too much trust in those two. They’re thick as thieves, and I don’t trust them as far as I can throw ’em. Bloody Sassenachs is what they are, one no better than the other.”
“Careful,” she said. “Ye’re starting to sound like MacGregor.”
That shut him up for a moment. He wasn’t overly fond of MacGregor and had never liked being compared to the other chief. “He might be right in this,” he grudgingly admitted.
She stopped and stared at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ye say that.”
He shrugged. “Ye can never trust a Campbell, always thinkin’ of themselves, they are. Goes where the wind blows. And where the money is. If the Scots gave him more gold and land, he’d side with them just as easily as he’d side with the bloody English.”
Cait rubbed her horse down even though the ride hadn’t been arduous. She just wanted something to do.
“Got nothin’ to say to that, lass?”
“Iain Campbell was there when I needed him. After my encounter with Donaldson, it was Iain I turned to for help, and he was right there. He took care of me. He let me rail and cry, and he just listened. He’s a good man, Grandfather. I know ye can’t see beyond the history of the Campbell name, but trust me, he’s different. John loved him like a brother and died for him. That says much.”
Graham harrumphed and said after a bit of silence, “I’ve had several discussions with him about the future of Scotland.”
“I have, too, and what he says makes sense. He thinks with his head and not his heart. He considers all angles and every scenario. Ye might no’ like what he has to say, but it’s worth hearing him out.”
Graham eyed her critically. “Ye’ve grown to a beautiful woman, Cait Campbell. Yer mother and father would have been proud of ye.”
Her throat closed up with tears, and she swallowed them. “Thank ye. That means a lot.”
“Maybe I’ll let him tell me these thoughts he has. No harm to listen, eh?”
“No harm to listen,” she admitted.
He cleared his throat. “I came to see if ye were all right.”
“I’m fine.”
Another small bit of silence. “Ye need anything?”
“Nay.” She straightened and brushed a bit of hair out of her face. “Truly, I’m fine. Between you and Campbell, I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Iain has been very…protective.” She wondered how much Graham knew about the encounter but decided it prudent not to ask. She wasn’t keen on repeating the story, and if he didn’t know, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.
“If ye don’t feel safe, ye’re always welcome back home.”
“This is home.”
“Will ye ever forgive me, lass?”
He appeared so vulnerable and old and weary and frail. She wondered how much time she had left with him. Not much. A few years, maybe. Was she willing to waste it on old grudges and even older feuds? That would make her too much like MacGregor.
“I don’t want this rift between us anymore,” he said.
“I don’t, either.” She put her arms around his waist in a hug.
For a moment he didn’t seem to know what to do, but then he hugged her back. As she had thought, he wasn’t nearly as meaty and muscular as he’d been even eight years ago. She squeezed her eyes shut, regretting the time they’d wasted on ridiculous anger.
She pulled away to see that his eyes were wet. He quickly wiped them and sniffed, looking at everything but her.
She said, “I appreciate yer offer of a place to live. This is my home, and I like it here, but I will come visit.”
He brightened at that. “Truly?”
She smiled. “Truly, Grandfather.”
“Grandfather? Cait?”
They both looked at the house to find Rory coming around the corner.
“There ye are,” he said with his lopsided smile as he loped toward them.
“Come inside,” Cait said, giving up on some quiet time alone.
They had a nice afternoon. She and Rory did most of the talking, reminiscing, and catching up on old acquaintances and even older gossip. Their grandfather tended to sit back and watch, but he appeared pleased, and she was happy with that. It felt good to mend that rift, to not carry around the anger and guilt that had been plaguing her for so long.
As nighttime descended, Rory and Graham prepared to leave.
“Are ye sure about stayin’ here, lass? Ye can come with Rory and me, ye know.”
“I know.” She looked around her cottage. “But I need to do this.”
Graham shook his head and muttered, “Foolish,” to no one in particular.
“I can stay with ye,” Rory said. “I can sleep on the floor or in the barn.”
Cait smiled at her cousin, delighted that he was back in her life. He was the closest person she had to a sibling. She patted his arm. “Thank ye, Rory, but I’ll be fine.” Rory appeared skeptical but kept silent and rode off with Grandfather Graham.
As soon as she was alone, exhaustion claimed her. She locked everything because Iain had made her promise that she would, and tried not to think about how silent her house was and how cold her bed would be. Her thoughts strayed to how warm Iain would be lying next to her, and how she really wanted to curl up next to him.
She happened to glance at the front door to find Black Cat sitting in front of it. She knew what that meant. Someone was coming. She wasn’t even nervous or frightened; she knew it would be Iain, coming to check on her.
She opened the door and watched him dismount. “No harm has come to me.”
He looked her up and down critically. “I can see that.”
She stepped outside to take the reins of his mount and lead it around the side of the house while Iain followed.
“No sign of Donaldson,” she said, then hesitated before saying the next. “Graham came by.”
“Did he? And what did that daft bugger have to say?”
“He heard about Donaldson and…um…us.”
Iain laughed. “The bastard must have spies in my house. How the hell did he hear about us so quickly?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Is that all he wanted?”
She hesitated again, and Iain’s attention sharpened.
“He has regrets. We’ve reconciled.”
“Ach, Cait. That’s a good thing,” he said softly.
She rubbed the horse’s nose. “It is. I don’t want to get too hopeful, though.”
“Not everyone leaves for good. Some people come back.”
The horse nuzzled her hand, probably looking for a treat. “I know.”
“No, you don’t. But you will. I’m glad you’ve reconciled with your grandfather.”
“I told him that ye helped me these last days and that ye aren’t a bad man. I told him ye had some good ideas about Scotland and he needed to listen to ye.”
Iain’s hopes soared. Who would have guessed that his greatest ally would be Cait Campbell? “And what did he say to that?”
“That he would consider it.”
It was the same thing Graham had said to Iain, and while it was frustrating that Cait hadn’t been able to convince Graham, it was encouraging that he was still thinking on the matter.
They put the horse in an empty stall and made their way back to the cottage, entering through the back kitchen door.
“He’s getting older,” she said, taking up the thread of the conversation again.
“He’s realizing that he’s run damn near everyone off,” Iain said.
“Rory is loyal to him.”
Iain grunted as they walked through the kitchen. “And did you forgive him?”
“I don’t know if I can forgive him, but I can move forward, and he indicated that he was willing to as well. We had a nice chat, and he invited me to visit him.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’d like to give it a try. I never thought I would be welcome back in my childhood home. He’s…different. Softer.” She laughed. “Don’t ye dare tell him I told ye that.”
Iain grinned. “I’m glad he made an effort toward amends. Now all you need is for MacGregor to do the same.”
“I’ll no’ hold out hopes for that. Graham doesn’t like ye, but MacGregor despises ye.”
Iain shook his head. “All thanks to a ridiculous feud that happened over forty years ago.”
“He’s a stubborn man.”
“Sounds like someone else I know. Come here, Cait.” He sat in the chair in the sitting room and held his hand out to her. She came to him. There was really no question about it. She was drawn to him like Black Cat was to a warm patch of sunlight.
He gently tugged her onto his lap and she happily settled there, her arms draped around his shoulders.
“I missed you today,” he whispered. “I hate being apart from you.”
“Oh, Iain.”
He put a finger to her lips. “I’m just telling you how I feel. Now that you spent the night in my bed, it will never be the same again. I will always think of you as I lie there cold and alone.”
“Ye’re impossible.” But she said it with affection, amazed at how much they thought alike. Just before he arrived, she’d been thinking the same thing.
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Well, ye’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I’ll take what you’re willing to give me.”
It wasn’t right that she was making him live off bits and pieces when he wanted the whole thing. But she was still so frightened.
Frightened of change. Frightened of caring. Frightened of losing yet another person she loved.
He kissed her, drawing her to his lips with a gentle nudge of his hand on the back of her head, and she let her heavy thoughts drift away for the moment.
A sharp knock on the door had her jumping off his lap as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
With a curse, Iain stood and reached for the pistol in his boot.