His Heart's Home (11 page)

“You
are?”
Ciaran asked miserably.

Duncan sighed.  He was completely confused.  Everything he said seemed to make things worse
.  “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”  He brushed away her tears with his thumb.  “Tell me, why are you crying, Ciaran?  What can I do to make it better?” he asked, gently helping her to her feet.

“I’m not- I don’t want you to think-”

“You don’t want me to think what, lass?”

“That I’m a- a whore
or a harlot!” she wept, covering her face with her hands.  Duncan was stunned.  He had never- he
would
never think that of her.  It hadn’t for a second crossed his mind.  “I just- I just wanted to thank you for what you’re doing for me and my family!” she sobbed, tears running down her cheeks.

Duncan felt as though someone had just tipped a whole bucket of ice down his back.  She had slept with him to
thank
him?  She had slept with him because, basically, she thought she had to?  He thought he might be sick.  He almost felt like he’d raped her.  He had thought she wanted him the same way he wanted her!

“You-” Duncan started to speak, but he had to stop straight away.  He rubbed a hand over his face. “You thought you had to sleep with me in order to make sure I’d look after you and the bairns?” he demanded, reaching down and picking up his rifle.  His movements were slow, precise, as if that could somehow keep all the pain inside.

“I didn’t- I don’t-” Ciaran stammered, wringing her hands and looking more nervous than ever.

“Ciaran, I don’t force myself on unwilling women,” he said, in a cool, wounded tone of voice.  “I told LaSoeur that I would look after you and your family.  I didn’t expect any kind of payment in return for doing that…I thought-” he stopped.  It didn’t matter what he had thought, he was wrong.  “Don’t worry.  It won’t happen again, Ciaran.”

“It…it
won’t
?” she said, further perplexing Duncan when her expression remained grim and frightened. Her voice sounded strangled and beaten when she asked him, “You mean…you’re sending us back?”

Duncan sighed heavily, “No. I’m not sending you back. I told you. I’ll look after you and the children.”

“And you don’t want-?”

“Payment isn’t necessary!” he barked, cutting her off before she finished and made him feel even
worse
.

“But…” she blinked rapidly, as though she were having difficulty comprehending his words, “But, why would you do that?”

Duncan shrugged his shoulder. “Because I
want
to, Ciaran!” he snapped, a bit more harshly than he’d initially intended, but nearing the end of his rope. “Hasn’t anyone just…done something
nice
for you before?”

Her baffled silence was his answer.  Duncan’s heart started melting again.

He reached for her. This time, when he drew her unresisting body into his arms, it was all about comfort instead of lust.

“No one ever has, have they?” he asked, unsurprised to feel her shake her head.

There were so many things Duncan wanted to ask her, but he sensed that now was not the time. Ciaran was obviously still reeling from all the changes in her life. He hoped, in the end, they would be for the better, but she needed time to adjust.

Duncan laid a kiss on her forehead and silently swore he wouldn’t accept anything more until Ciaran came to him for the
right
reasons. It still hurt him that she had given her body as compensation. He wanted
so much
more!  But he understood her a little better now. He forgot sometimes how lucky he had been. It was true that he’d lived though horrors and he had lost more loved ones than any man should have to bear - but at least he’d had them to begin with. He couldn’t imagine a couple more loving than his mother and father had been, and couldn’t remember a time when he had been without friends and family ready to throw down their lives for his own.  It was going to take time to teach her that life could be better than what she’d known in the past.

He had a feeling she’d be worth the wait.

..ooOOoo..

“Are you hungry?”

Duncan blinked into the dim light of morning and rubbed his eyes before answering the hail.  It felt
so early
- but then, he hadn’t had much time to sleep. His time on watch stretched until after midnight. Then, he had been undecided about where to sleep. He couldn’t very well bunk down
inside
the wagon with Ciaran and the children, but if he was meant to be protecting the little family, it didn’t make sense for him to stay by the Rosses on the other side of the camp. In the end, he had compromised, spreading his blanket next to the fire almost halfway between the two. Ciaran had sought him out, however. After the haze of sleep cleared out of his mind, he finally registered her voice.

“I brought you breakfast,” she said meekly. “And if you want to change, I’ll launder your shirt. There’s a creek just over the way, and I don’t think we’re leaving until late…”

“Oh aye?” Duncan murmured, as he yawned and stretched.  He was still feeling battered and bruised from the day before, but he was going to try and make the best of things.  He thanked Ciaran as he took his breakfast from her.  She offered him a timid little smile and asked again about his shirt.

“I’ve got other things to wash too,” she added quietly.

“Aye, alright, if it’s no trouble?”

“Oh, it’s not,” Ciaran assured him, with a quick shake of her head.

Duncan put down his breakfast for a moment and causally pulled off his shirt.  He heard Ciaran’s sharp intake of breath and swallowed a smile.  He wasn’t a vain man, but he knew he wasn’t in bad shape for his age, and surely there was no harm in just letting Ciaran see what she was missing?  It was a little mean of him to tease her - but then he also wanted to prove to Ciaran there was nothing frightening about his body.

“How is- how is your arm?” she
asked, fiddling with the warm shirt that she now held in her hands.

Duncan glanced down at the bandage that was wrapped around his bicep.  He had almost forgotten about the injury to be honest.  He’d had much worse in the past after all
. His mind instinctively drifted back to Scotland.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, picking up his breakfast again.  “It’ll just be another scar in a few more days.”

“Well, if you need it re-bandaged just let me know,” Ciaran said, blushing a little and staring down at her hands as she spoke.  Duncan thanked her again, before she made her excuses and darted off to do the laundry.

He watched her walk away, once again hypnotized by the graceful movement of her fine figure.  He loved the way she moved, like she was a dancer.  He could watch her for
hours
without becoming bored.  Unfortunately that wasn’t an option today.  Ciaran had disappeared out of view, but he could
remember
what he had seen.

He could remember what he had
felt
too the night before: holding her in his arms, crushing her generous breasts, stroking her silky skin.

Duncan groaned and dragged his mind away from that avenue of thought
- he ate his breakfast and
tried
to anyway.  It was hard to forget how exquisite she had been though. 
 
Now that he knew
why
she had done it he shouldn’t find it all still so arousing - but he
did.

He felt
guilty too. Was he betraying Aileen?  When he let himself stop and ask that question the answer seemed to be an obvious ‘yes’, which was why he tried
not
to stop and think about his late wife too often. 

A very welcome distraction suddenly appeared in the form of Avery
Connelly.

“Hey lad, can you pass me my pack?” he asked, pointing to his bag.  The boy silently handed it over and Duncan got out a clean shirt and pulled it on. 

Avery kept on staring at him without saying a word until he finally found his voice and blurted, “Ma says you’re going to look after us, are you?”

“Well, I’m certainly going to try.”

Avery considered this answer, and the uncertain blankness on his face slipped into a defensive frown. “We don’t need you!” he answered harshly. “We don’t need anybody but ourselves!”

Duncan nodded slowly, not wanting to upset the child any more than he already was. “I know that,” he replied calmly, “But we can’t get it through Monsieur LaSoeur’s head.”

“He’s
wrong
!” Avery insisted.

The corner of Duncan’s mouth twitched in a playful grin. “Aye- Well, of course he is. He’s French!”

Avery didn’t catch the humor, and his expression didn’t change. “I’ll be a man soon,” he argued doggedly. “I’m almost twelve, I can look after my brothers and Ma.”

Duncan nodded. The boy had probably tried. He thought of the beating that Ciaran had suffered, and imagined the children had probably caught the wrong end of Sean’s temper as well. Duncan remembered how his own older brother had always looked after the rest of the MacRae children, always taking Duncan’s place in a fight, always covering for Ewan, always soothing things over with Maisie and taking blame that wasn’t his
. No doubt it had been the same for Avery, but worse. Thomas had never had to defend his siblings from
his father
at least.

Duncan couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, and decided to forgive the boy for his brusque manner
- and to hope he could win him around. To that end, he shifted tactics.

“Aye,” he said simply, acknowledging the boy’s claims of protection, “And that’s why I’m hoping you’ll help me out!”

As he’d intended, Avery was taken by surprise by the declaration. “Help you?” he echoed.

Duncan nodded again, “You’ve got a lot of brothers and sisters,” he explained, “I don’t know if I can keep up with them all myself
- not unless you show me the ropes. I bet you always know if Ryan’s off getting in trouble….”  Avery nodded slowly, “Or if Aidan’s wandered off?” Another nod. “And I need someone to help me handle your mother.”

“
Handle
mother?”

Duncan could have kicked himself as he watched the boy’s wary expression crumple back to a frown, informing him he’d just lost back all the ground he’d gained. It was a stupid choice of words.

“Help her!” Duncan corrected quickly. “Keep her happy, I mean!”

Avery’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“Because…” the Scotsman paused again. Avery was no fool - and he
was
nearly twelve. What’s more, his experience had been with men like Sean. It wouldn’t do to lie - but that didn’t mean that he had to confess everything either. Duncan decided on the barest truth. “Because I like your ma a lot.”

“Aye, I know you ‘like her’!” Avery muttered darkly
, and shocked him further with what he said next. “Is she going to have a baby? Is that why papa had to die?”

“No! She’s
not
having a baby!” Duncan sputtered, happily too off-balance from the second part of the question to feel a pang for the fact he’d
never
have a child of his own. “And what do you mean? What does that have to do with your dad?”

Avery shrugged his shoulders
- but Duncan sensed there was something more.

“Did you
r mama die when she was having a baby?” he nudged gently.

“When
Ma
was…” Avery said, confusing Duncan by the way he spoke as if “Ma” was one person and “Mama” was somebody else. It was explained a moment later, however. “When Ma was having Liam…Mama fell and died.”

Surely he didn’t mean…

“Your
Mama died and then your Papa married Ciaran and-“

“No,” Avery said, “It was when Ma was pregnant. Mama and Papa had a fight…and
Mama fell down and died.”

Duncan hadn’t thought anything else about Sean would shock him, not after the things he knew Ciaran had been through
. Had he
really
murdered his own wife?

“How old were you then, lad?” Duncan asked quietly.

Avery shrugged. “Five, I guess.” He looked as if he was regretting the conversation, and Duncan decided not to push any more.  The boy had been so young he might not remember. No doubt events were muddled in his mind - besides, it could have been innocent. Lots of people were injured by falls. That was how his own mother had died.

“Well, I’m sure that made you sad,” Duncan said at last. “I bet your
Mama loved you a lot.”

Avery nodded, looking very young again. “Yes but- but Ma is good to us too
.”

“I know,” Duncan said, pleased by the youngster’s loyalty. “She loves all of you too
- and she’s going to need you a
lot
now that your papa’s gone. That’s why I think we should work as a team.”

“
What do you want me to do?” Avery asked.