A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (18 page)

Dar eyed her intently. "Have ye? And in what way? Surely
ye haven't at long last succumbed to my irresistible charm, and
wish now to bed me?"

"Och, are we back to that again?" Caitlin rolled her eyes,
sighing in exasperation. "Though I suppose I should take that
as a positive sign ye're well on the mend. But nay, I don't wish
to bed ye or any man, save as that man's wife. And, since ye've
quite evidently sworn off wedding any woman ever again, pray,
let's move on to more practical matters."

The wolfish gleam that had sparked in his eyes as he had spoken of bedding her went out. "I've naught to offer any woman,
lass. Indeed, at best, it's all but a guarantee of lifelong hardship
to marry into Clan MacNaghten right now. Living as a wife of
a clanless man would be even worse."

"Ye could give up yet name and join another clan who'd have
ye. After all, ye're only outlawed from the MacNaghtens."

Dar savagely shook his head. "No one, not even a regent and
his royal edict, will ever separate me from the clan into which I
was born and raised."

She was fast beginning to lose patience with him. "Aye, and do
ye enjoy returning to be kicked again and again, like some sniveling cur to its brutal master? When another master might gladly
take ye in and treat ye with kindness?" She expelled a disgusted
breath. "Truly, Darach MacNaghten, sometimes ye can be the
most blind and pigheaded of men!"

He laughed and then quickly clutched his side. "Och, I warned
ye not to make me laugh, I did. But mayhap it's just yer way of
punishing me for not seeing things as ye do. Not that," he added
with a sly grin, "it says aught good for ye, that ye now seem so
intent on joining yer fate to such a blind, pigheaded man."

"Give me strength and patience," Caitlin murmured, clasping
her hands before her and lifting her gaze heavenward.

"God will need to do more than that," Dar muttered darkly,
"to save yer sanity and life if ye try to help me."

A sudden realization struck her. "Everything ye do is meant
to keep me at arm's length, isn't it?" She leaned toward him, her excitement rising. "It's been that way since the verra beginning.
And I think I finally know the reason why."

"Ye don't know aught," he growled and averted his gaze. "And
best ye not try to understand further what I'm about. I promise
ye. Ye won't like what ye discover."

"And what more would that be? I already know ye're not a
murderer, that ye're loyal to a fault, that ye love yer clan even
if they seem not to love ye. Also, in yer own way, ye're a verra
brave and honorable man and are capable of deeply, passionately
loving a woman."

Caitlin knew she was edging toward thin ice. She could tell
by Dar's shuttered expression and brittle tone of his voice. But
she also knew she was close to getting him to open up to her, to
begin to trust her, and perhaps even to share a bit of his heart.

When he didn't respond, she forged on. "I also know ye've
been deeply hurt by a father who refused to love ye. That ye feel
unworthy because of that, as if the fault had always been in ye
rather than in yer father. And that ye bear some guilt over what
yer brother has become in the aftermath of Nara choosing to love
ye over him. So much guilt, actually, that ye cannot see him for
what he is, and are blind to what kind of man ye truly are. And
that, if ye persist on this misbegotten course, not only will ye
destroy yer clan but ye will likely destroy yerself."

Dar stared at her, dumbfounded. "Ye always did have a shrewish tongue," he muttered at long last.

Caitlin gave a disparaging laugh. "So because ye don't like to
hear the truth, ye name me a shrew! Well, I say instead, it's past
time ye face what needs facing. It's painful, of that there's no
doubt. But if I can do it, then so can ye."

"Can I now?" Dar lay back and closed his eyes. "I fear, lass,
that ye've a much higher opinion of what I'm capable of than I
do. Even if Athe eventually shows himself to be unable to lead
the clan, I've never been one to lead anyone. Indeed, I don't know how The idea of taking on the chieftainship of Clan MacNaghten
fills me with fear. I've failed so many times, in so many things,
that if I were also to fail in that ..."

His voice went hoarse with emotion. On impulse, Caitlin
reached over and took his hand. This time, instead of pulling
away, Dar clenched it tightly.

"Then there's the matter of my pride. As unworthy as my father
always made me feel, I've still got my pride. Clan MacNaghten
isn't ever going to come to me and ask me back. I'd have to go to
them, humble myself, aye, even beg them to allow me to rejoin
the clan. And I don't think I possess the courage for that, or the
strength to bear it if they rejected me once again."

"But if ye bring Athe back to them," Caitlin said, beginning to
see yet another reason for his unwavering insistence on his brother
being the answer to everything, "then ye'll return the victor. Then
they'd be the ones begging ye to come back to them."

He opened his eyes and turned toward her. "A rather hopeless, fantastical plan, wasn't it?" he asked with a sheepish grin.
"But desperate men, ye know, are prone to concoct desperate
stratagems.

"Well, ye're not so desperate anymore," she said with a determined nod. "Ye've got another ally now. Ye've got me. And ye've
got God."

"And ye've got me as well," Goraidh offered from the open
doorway.

Caitlin and Dar turned in his direction.

"I thought hermits weren't supposed to get out much, much
less take on hopeless quests," Dar said.

The older man's mouth pursed in thought. "Well, I go where
the Lord leads, and it's plain enough He wants me to have a hand
in this. And besides," he added, a grin spreading across his now
rather sunburned features, "when the Lord's involved in aught,
it's most certainly not hopeless. Nay, not hopeless at all."

If sheer determination could fuel one's recovery, Dar did so at
a rapid pace. By late that day, he was sitting up in bed and even
dangling his feet over the side. At first the dizziness and nausea
returned again and again, but with rest and additional soup and
other fluids, he gradually began to overcome those symptoms.

The next morn, after Caitlin changed his bandages and expressed amazement at how well his wound was healing, Dar was
up for a few unsteady steps. By that evening, he was walking with
only minimal assistance to sit and eat his supper at the table. Two
days later, he pronounced himself ready to resume the journey
to Dundarave.

At the table, Caitlin eyed him doubtfully over her bowl of
porridge. "That's overly optimistic, don't ye think? Ye're greatly
improved, to be sure, but I don't believe-"

"All I'll be doing is riding a horse, lass," Dar said, interrupting
her before she turned into the doting healer. "And with ye riding
behind me to help support me. . ."

"It'll be a short ride, ye can be sure, if ye even manage to
mount that big gelding on yer own." Caitlin gave a disgusted
snort. "For I tell ye true, I'm not lifting a big oaf like ye up onto
that animal."

"So, from being too puny and weak to ride out today, I'm now
a big oaf." He grinned. "Best I hear the truth of it, so I know
what to expect of ye as an ally. Are ye always this capricious in
yer opinions and moods?"

"Only when it comes to ye, it seems," she muttered, digging
back into her bowl of porridge. "Ye'd try the patience of a saint,
and no mistake."

"Indeed?" Dar arched a dark brow. "The lasses have always
seemed to like me well enough. Excepting ye, of course."

Caitlin swallowed her spoonful of porridge. "Likely ye were
a sweet one as a wee bairn, and charmed the hearts of all the women. But since ye've become a man ... well, unless ye weren't
quite the rogue ye are now, I can't see what any would've found
likeable in ye."

"My braw looks, mayhap?"

"Och, aye, that must be it! How could I have failed to notice?"

They both laughed then and, in a companionable silence, finished their breakfast. The longer he was with Caitlin, the more he
enjoyed her-her witty repartee, her lack of fear in confronting
him even when she said something she knew he didn't want to
hear, and the surprising depth of her generosity.

Her announcement three days ago, when she had unexpectedly
returned from the journey Dar had felt certain was her longanticipated escape, mystified him still. It went against everything
a Highlander was and believed in to turn against one's clan. And,
though he wagered Caitlin didn't truly consider what she was
doing as turning against her own clan, Dar felt fairly certain her
brother would view it that way.

Niall Campbell would be livid and likely blame his sister's
treachery on him. Instead of a simple hanging, Dar imagined
something more painful like drawing and quartering would now
be in store for him. Or even burning at the stake as a warlock for
having bespelled Caitlin into joining him.

He smiled. If there was anyone bespelled, it was him. He
slanted a glance at her. If there was ever a more bonny lass, he had
never seen one. Even sweet, gentle Nara with her fair skin and
pale blond hair was a wraith in the full glare of Caitlin Campbell's
bright and brilliant beauty.

Dar never tired of gazing at her, which of course was only
when she wasn't aware of it. She didn't seem to appreciate the
lustful offers he occasionally made her, much less the hungry
looks. But those weren't the yearnings he feared she would notice
at any rate.

He was falling in love with her, if he indeed wasn't already in
love. For all too brief, heady moments, he almost imagined she
felt something for him as well. At the very least, Caitlin's jibes
were almost playful now and, at best, overlaid with a tenderness
that touched him deeply.

In the end, though, her belief that she had joined forces with
him was an illusion. Whether or not his brother ultimately returned to his position as leader of Clan MacNaghten, Dar had no
intention of leaving him in Campbell hands. And Niall Campbell
wouldn't turn over Athe unless he received his sister in return.

Despite Caitlin's plan to remain with him, Dar knew that was
an impossibility. Once Niall had his sister back, he wouldn't willingly return her, no matter how dearly she wished it.

It was for the best, Dar told himself over and over. She was
an innocent and caught up in some religious fervor for which
he likely had Goraidh to thank. And that was yet another problem-the hermit's insistence on now involving himself, as well,
in Dar's business. His simple plan to rescue his brother was fast
becoming far too complicated, and laden with unnecessary assistance. The next thing he knew, the Lord God Himself would
also begin to meddle.

There was nothing to be done for it but get on with this
journey and see it swiftly to its end. Then he could go his own
way, whether it was to resume the life of an outcast or be asked
to return to his clan. Come what may, Caitlin Campbell would
be gone from his life.

There was no other choice. To attempt anything else would
be self-serving on his part, and wouldn't do Caitlin any good.
Yet still, how Dar wished for it to be otherwise. How he wished
never to be parted from her.

Goraidh returned just as they were cleaning the breakfast
dishes. A questioning look in his eyes, he glanced down at Dar.

"So, are ye still of a mind to set out this morn?"

"Aye. I cannot spare more time. Even now, I'd wager Campbell and his men are camped outside Dundarave, fuming and
making threats, while inside the castle my uncle and his men
are beside themselves. We should've been there three days ago,
ye know."

"Well, fortunately for ye, it's but another three hours' ride from
here," Goraidh said. "And guessing rightly that yer plan hadn't
changed, I went ahead and saddled yer horse and my mule. We
can be off just as soon as ye two are ready."

Dar looked to Caitlin.

She sighed. "Fine. It'll take me a few minutes to prepare myself. In the meanwhile, why don't ye and Goraidh gather up yer
weapons and fill the water flasks? I'm willing to lay odds it'll take
ye a time to get mounted as well."

He grinned. "And what's the payment for that bet? A wee kiss
from ye, mayhap?"

"Only," Caitlin said with a chuckle, "if ye lose, ye vow never
again to importune me with yer incessant begging for kisses."

"Done!" Dar walked to the shelf where Goraidh had placed
his dagg, powder, shot, and knife and quickly shoved the weapons into his belt and slung the powder horn and shot bag over
his shoulder. "I'll be awaiting ye atop the gelding when next I
see ye.