A Highlander’s Homecoming (14 page)

There was only one choice open to her. Robbie had to go, even if it meant driving him away.

That should be an easy enough task for her. When she was younger, Auld Annie, the cook who’d looked after her, had always said her bad attitude could force the saints themselves to run away in terror.

That was it, then.

Her decision made, she looked up to find Robbie had moved to deeper water, his gaze fixed directly on the spot where she hid.

Bollocks.

She was caught.

She rubbed her damp hands down the front of her apron and stood up, defiantly jamming her hands onto her hips.

“And what do you think yer doing out here?” she demanded.

“I might ask you same, missy. I wondered how long you planned to spy on me before showing yerself.”

Isa felt the red heat crawling up her neck and onto her face. That would never do! Better to attack and take him off his track.

“Plan? I have no plan. I’m no spying. It’s only my disbelief of yer rude behavior that kept me here. Splashing about with yer dirty self, fouling up the water I use for cooking my food, the water I drink.”

She paused for a breath, surprised to see him headed toward her, a smile growing on his face. A few more steps and he’d reach the shallows!

“What are you doing?” she screeched, oblivious to the fact that she repeated her earlier words.

“I thought you wanted me out of yer water. I’m getting out.”

He took another step, his smile so broad now it danced in his eyes, and she wondered if he’d be bold enough to keep going.

Two could play the game of dares if he liked. She was every bit as stubborn as he could be, if that was what it came down to.

“That’s exactly what I want.” She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

When he took the next step, she felt her knees weaken.

The dark waters swirled below his waist and her eyes fastened on the enticing trail of hair that moved down his abdomen and disappeared into the lapping waves.

The water flowed up as he pushed forward yet again, and her hands dropped to knot in her apron at her sides. Anything to keep from reaching out to touch him as he drew near.

The waves that had flowed up as he moved now withdrew, caressing his skin like silver fingers as they fled away, exposing all of him. She turned her back as quickly as she could, but not so quickly she missed one last look at the whole of the man.

Her blood pounded in her ears and her face flamed, even as low in her belly she felt a matching burn.

Lo, but he was a beauty.

When, a moment later, his warm breath tickled her cheek, she lurched forward—and would have fallen had he not grabbed her arm.

“A word of advice, my lady. I excel at poker. I’m no a man to walk away from a bluff. Never point a weapon if you dinna intend to fire it.”

“I’ve no need for any of yer so-called advice.” As if she needed him to tell her what to do. As if what he told her made even the least bit of sense. “Everything I do I do with a reason.”

“Is that so?” He leaned in closer. “Then perhaps yer real reason for standing so long in trees was that you wanted to join me in the pool?”

“Hardly!” She jerked her arm from his fingers and stepped a pace away, all too aware of the heat his body gave off, even as water dripped from his hair, forging a cold trail down the side of her neck. “Now get away from me, you great oaf. Yer getting me wet.”

She didn’t turn at his strangled reply nor did she give him the satisfaction of responding when the sound turned into laughter.

Infuriating man.

So, she’d been too weak for this particular game of
dares after all. No matter. It only confirmed she’d been right from the beginning.

Robbie MacQuarrie had to go.

She was a feisty one, all right.

Robert smiled to himself as he watched Isa now, her head bent low over Jamie’s as she helped him make a soft pallet on the floor by the fire. Seeing her like this, it was hard to believe she was the same woman who’d argued with him all the way back to the cottage this evening.

Attempted
to argue with him was more accurate. Considering the circumstances of their meeting at the pool, there was no way he was allowing her to drag him into her verbal sparring. Some men might be able to channel their emotions into words but he wasn’t one of them. He felt what he felt and preferred to act upon those feelings, not talk them to death.

When he’d seen her there in the woods, the hunger sparking in her eyes as she’d watched him, he’d known it would take very little to push him over the edge.

He’d tried to warn her.

One more dare. One more challenge. One more anything and they’d likely have found themselves on the ground, going at it like wild animals in heat.

That wasn’t an option he could allow. So he’d ignored her verbal jabs though her underlying meaning was clear. She thought to drive him away with her sharp tongue and hateful comments.

But all that had changed mere feet from the cottage.

“Jamie’s inside,” she’d warned, her demeanor instantly transforming from scolding nag to mother tiger. “You’ll be kind to him or you’ll deal with me for it, you ken?”

The memory brought another smile to his lips as he watched the two of them now, the boy’s face shining with happiness when Isa sat down next to him on the pallet. There was something about the child, something so familiar, and yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Come on with you, lad. Lie down. I ken that it’s hard to get to sleep in a strange place, but we’ve a great deal of work tomorrow if we’re to be ready to leave for the castle.” She patted the blanket beside her and Jamie climbed under the covers, snuggling his head into her lap.

For his part, Robert finished off the mug of weak ale Isa had offered earlier. Relaxing in his spot against the rock wall, he was amazed that he could feel so comfortable, so natural, so at peace. The moment was almost perfect. A man, a woman, a child. If he had his little dog, Charlie, here, the scene would be complete.

Isa stared down at the boy in her lap, one long finger delicately stroking the side of his poor, misshapen face as little snores wafted up from him.

“What accident befell the lad?”

She looked up, startled, at his question, as if she’d been so lost in her thoughts she’d completely forgotten he was even there.

Not exactly a major stroke for his ego.

“Fire,” she answered at last, running her fingers lightly through the child’s hair. “Though his grandmother swore to me it was no accident, their home burning to the ground. He was just a wee thing at the time. Must have been going on five years ago? Maybe
six. I dinna believe he was even walking when it happened. Annie, his grandmother, was the one who pulled him from the flames. Burned her hands so badly she couldna ever fully return to her duties as cook.”

“His parents?” From the ill-kempt look of the child, he had a pretty good idea what her answer would be.

“His mother died in the fire. He had no father. Well—” Here her eyebrows lifted in a knowing manner. “No father that ever stepped forward to claim the poor lad.”

Robert nodded. It happened. People were people. The only thing worse was that he knew it would continue to happen. The passage of time wouldn’t much change people for the better.

“Was the battle you fought near here?”

This time it was his turn to be surprised by a question.

“Battle?”

“I could no help but notice yer wound this afternoon. The one on yer chest.” Her cheeks colored and she fastened her gaze back on the sleeping boy. “I’ve no great experience with battle wounds, but yers looked to be serious. Was it recent?”

“No. It was a long time ago.” Another lifetime ago.

Her eyes cut to him, her brow wrinkled. “But I could have sworn . . . It looked to no to have been healed too long.”

His gaze locked on hers until she looked back down.

The old scar had looked oddly pink this afternoon, but he’d reasoned that was likely a trick of the fading light. Or perhaps the result of her having elbowed him in that exact spot.

Surely it couldn’t be anything more serious than that.

“Of course, I am no a healer,” she muttered, cradling Jamie’s head in her hands as she slipped out from under him. She lay the boy down gently as she stood, then stretched out her back before hurrying to the other end of the room. There she bent over her wooden chest before returning, her arms wrapped around a thick woolen.

“I suppose I’d best take my own advice and get some rest.” Her eyes flitted nervously around the room, refusing to light anywhere.

Was she waiting for him to go?

“Well, then, I guess I’ll be out to the stable.” He rose to leave but she stopped him with a hand to his forearm, which she removed as quickly as she’d touched him.

“There’s no a need for you to do that. Yer welcome to take yer rest here by the fire, with the boy.”

She held out the bundle in her arms as if in offering. When he took it, his hands covered hers and her eyes widened, the spark he’d seen in the woods this afternoon returning. A tingling rushed through his body and the mark on his arm felt alive with movement.

Isa jerked away and stepped back. Averting her gaze to the floor, she clasped her hands tightly behind her.

“I . . . I’ve a boon to ask of you, Robbie.”

As if the look he’d just seen in her eyes wasn’t enough, her familiar use of his name sent a rush of heat chasing after the tingle that dove straight to his loins. He lowered the bundle in his arms, holding it in front of him like a shield to protect him. Or a screen, to hide the effect she had on him.

“Do you suppose you could find something for Jamie to do for you tomorrow? Odd jobs to keep him here for another day until we’re ready to travel to the castle?”

The thrill he’d felt building fizzled away like cold water tossed on embers. Was she so desperate to keep the boy here because of him? How ridiculous! Why on earth would she feel that was necessary? She didn’t need protection from him. He was sworn to
be
her protection.

“I suppose he could . . . he could maybe help me gather the saplings and bring them down for the fence.” He stumbled through his response, stung by her lack of trust in him.

“I would be most grateful to you. It’s only that he tells me of his grandmother’s illness and I want to keep him here long enough to be able to check on the woman for my own self when we go to the castle. I dinna believe he’s being cared for at all, and he’s half starved every time I see him.” She gripped the edge of her apron, twisting and tormenting the material in her grasp as she spoke, her words racing out as if she couldn’t speak them fast enough to suit her needs.

As her words died out, her face a flaming red, it occurred to Robert there might be more to this situation than his injured pride was allowing him to see.

It might not be that she wanted the lad to protect her from him. It just might be instead that she wanted the lad to protect her from herself.

Chapter 12
 

Like proud roosters, they marched back and forth, Robbie and Jamie, admiring the fence they’d labored over the day before. They could well be father and son, those two.

Isa bit back a smile as she watched them through the opening in the door.

She couldn’t have imagined when she’d impulsively asked the big warrior to find a way to keep Jamie busy here that he would turn out to be such a kind and caring teacher for the boy. Over the past day and a half the two of them had been inseparable, Robbie patiently taking the lead, with Jamie at his heels like a noonday shadow.

She’d never seen Jamie so happy, not even when he was eating.

If she weren’t so determined to make the man leave, she might just find herself wanting him to stay.

“Which is exactly why he has to go,” she muttered as she closed the door behind her. The Fates had never been kind to her, but this—this taste of what other people have in their lives dangling in front of her—was the unkindest cut of all. Their last few evenings together had been idyllic, as if they were the perfect family she’d always dreamed of.

“Dinna you go brainsick now, Isabella MacGahan,” she said aloud, needing the encouragement.

Time to put away the fantasies and face what life had actually dished out to her.

Even if a man like him did take a fancy to her, she was too dangerous to live among people. One unguarded flare of her temper and lightning could take them all down or they could drown in the rains she thoughtlessly provoked.

No, fantasy would have to be packed away like the treasures in her little wooden box.

For now, it was time to head to the castle. She’d finished her preparations.

Nervously she smoothed her hand down the front of her filthy dress, the action sending waves of foul odors swirling around her as she stepped outside.

“There she is,” Jamie called, running toward her. “Are we ready to go now?” He stopped a short distance away from her, the good side of his face wrinkling in distaste. “Lo, but that’s foul, Isa.”

Even she had to admit she might have overdone it a bit this time. Perhaps the goat droppings in her pockets
were a little over the top. Still, it was a big event and a good chance to impress upon everyone the necessity of keeping their distance from her.