His Heart's Home (13 page)

Liam accepted a kiss from his mother, and then crawled in beside the other boy. Ryan and Avery followed his example, and it wasn’t long before all five of the little
Connellys were peacefully lost in their dreams.

Ciaran smiled at her babies, watching them sleep for a moment before she finally returned to work. Duncan had snuffed the flames. It was summer now, too warm to be needed, and the fire only served to attract the bugs. Besides, the moon was full and the night was clear. There was plenty of light to see. Ciaran picked up the dirty dishes and carried them toward the stream.

“Need a hand with that?” Duncan offered, jogging to catch up. He lifted the heavy pot and utensils out of her hands as they continued toward the water. At first they walked in companionable silence, but Ciaran broke it when they reached the bank.

“Thank you,” she blurted.

Duncan shrugged, “Well, it wasn’t very heavy. I-!”

“No,” Ciaran interrupted, “For…for helping with the children, I mean. You’ve been so good to them…to all of us, really…”

She was
painfully
conscious of his gaze on her skin. It was making all of her nerves tingle. She didn’t know why a single glance from Duncan was enough to make her body go up into flames- except for the fact that the
weeks
that had passed since their coupling had been a drought of sensation. Her body was as parched and brittle as dry timber. One touch would send her up in flames.

Ciaran was frankly shocked by the places that her imagination had traveled in the past few days.

Her eyes lowered to Duncan’s lips and she couldn’t seem look away. 
A kiss would be enough to show him that she was willing wouldn’t it?  A kiss had to make him understand? 
Once the questions had presented themselves to Ciaran it was impossible for her to think about anything else.

She tilted forwards, drawn towards her protector like a flower lifting its head to the sun.  Her heart raced nervously in her chest as she stood up on her tips toes and brushed her lips lightly against Duncan’s mouth.

Too unsure of herself to linger for long, Ciaran pulled away almost before she had began.  It didn’t matter that the kiss had lasted only seconds though; her lips still tingled and throbbed, and yearned for
more
.  She swayed unsteadily and waited to see what Duncan would do with her. His eyes were a deeper shade of blue than before, but Ciaran wasn’t sure she liked the hard set of his mouth.

“We talked about this, Ciaran,” he said, his voice was
a rough, husky brogue that shivered through the center of Ciaran’s body.

“We did?” she puffed, unconsciously leaning towards him again. 

“Aye,” Duncan breathed slowly, and one corner of his mouth finally twitched upwards in a half smile when he registered the hungry, glazed look in her eyes.  “I told you, you don’t need to
thank
me,” he reminded her gently, but Ciaran was too caught up to understand what he meant.

“Thank you for what?” she puzzled breathily, unable to think clearly when the feel of his lips was still so fresh in her memory. 
Why couldn’t he stop talking and just pounce on her?  Her body was desperate to be reclaimed!

“Ciaran,”
Duncan growled, and then he did what she had been waiting for- he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head to devour her mouth.

Ciaran’s pulse leapt when Duncan’s tongue swept possessively into her mouth.  She lifted her hands to his broad shoulders and clung to him as if she was afraid of drowning.  His own hands encircled her waist, dragging her flush against his body, while his tongue and lips continued to enslave her senses.

Why hadn’t anyone ever told her that a man could possess her with a single kiss? 

Her mind
- her body no longer felt like her own.  Duncan was in control, and Ciaran was only too willing to let him do what he pleased with her. Her hips bucked and rolled into his as her desire reached a fever pitch.  Her tongue dueled intimately with Duncan’s, needing more, wanting everything, and so it was with a startled little cry she suddenly found herself bereft of his mouth and set apart from his body.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, not actually
looking
sorry at all.  “You shouldn’t let me take advantage like that,” he added.  Ciaran was much too disorientated to catch the wickedly mischievous glint in his eyes.

Ciaran didn’t register what Duncan had just said until he took another step away. Her fingers clutched for him, but he carefully eluded her grasp.

“But-! What-! You
didn’t
!” she sputtered, her mind too hazy with interrupted passion to say anything that made sense.

“I’d never forgive myself,” Duncan told her, trying to keep his tone light- but there was a perceptible strain in his voice. He wanted to tease Ciaran- but he hadn’t counted on the effect it would have on him
.

Duncan popped a kiss on the top of her head, and then
made
himself walk away.

He didn’t have a destination in mind.
Away
from Ciaran was good enough. He was worried his control wasn’t quite as strong as he had thought, and he had promised himself he wasn’t going to hurry Ciaran. He wasn’t going to take her again before she was ready, and the kiss had nearly tipped him over the brink.

She certainly looked ready
, the devil on his shoulder whispered into his ear, causing Duncan to clench his hands at his sides. His relationship with Ciaran
had
made some progress over the past few weeks. She seemed much easier around him than she’d been before, and the kiss
had
been her idea, but he was still worried that she wanted him for the wrong reasons, and he wasn’t willing to settle for that.

She
would
come around some day, wouldn’t she? Duncan’s heart always seemed to stop in his chest whenever the possibility that she
wouldn’t
arose in his mind. What would he do if he scared her? If she made him go away? She
wasn’t
his wife, and the children were
not
his, but they had already become his family in his mind. They were destiny’s recompense for family he’d lost in Scotland, the one he’d been cheated out of having with Aileen.

The pain in Duncan’s chest grew and twisted with the thought of his
late wife. It felt like a betrayal of her memory, how quickly he’d latched on to Ciaran and her brood. Surely he shouldn’t be looking forward to things anymore or hoping for love? He had always intended to be like his father had been when his mother died: faithful to the end. When Duncan had returned from battle without his brother, he wanted to lie down and die, but he had healed in spite of himself. It had happened again.

..ooOOoo..

A day or two more and they would reach their destination.  Ciaran glanced across at Duncan, trying to make sure he didn’t notice she was watching him.  He was sitting next to her, driving the wagon, and gazing off into the horizon with a faraway look in his eyes.

Ciaran wondered what he was thinking about
.
Was he thinking about all the things he would be free to do when he left her and the children behind?

She bit her lip and tried not to give in to despair, but she really didn’t know how they would manage without him!  Life out here was hard
- and life without the protection of a man might just be impossible.
Why would Duncan want to stay though? 

The children, although Duncan honestly seemed to dote on them,
weren’t
his… and she- well… she obviously didn’t provide a great enough temptation to make him want to stay!  Ciaran licked her lips and recalled the kiss they had shared by the river… it had turned her whole world on its head, how could he
not
feel that too?

“Something wrong, lass?”

“Hrm?” she looked up with a start.

“You sighed,” Duncan said, reaching over and giving her knee a light pat.  The causal, friendly gesture was enough to set Ciaran’s skin tingling, and she could feel the imprint of his fingers
long after he had withdrawn his hand.  “Tired of traveling?” he asked.

“Oh, no, not really…” Ciaran murmured.  She positioned Mary more comfortably, and then sighed again without thinking.

“Ciaran!” Duncan laughed, although he looked concerned.  “What’s the matter?”

“It’s- oh it’s nothing,” she said, giving herself a little shake.  She looked around at the unfamiliar landscape.  “I suppose it’s just sinking in that we’re really here… for good.”

Duncan absorbed what she was saying and frowned.  “But you wanted to come, I thought?  I mean, you didn’t want to go back?”

“Well no, there’s nothing to go back to now,” Ciaran said with a shrug.

“You’re just having a bad day,” Duncan said, trying to rally her spirits.  “You’ll feel better once we get there,” he said optimistically.  “It’s a big adventure just waiting to happen,” he grinned, winking as he spoke.

Ciaran giggled despite herself.  “I’m not one of the boys, Duncan,” she laughed.  “I know that there’s going to be an awful lot of hard work, and very little fun
- at least when we first get there, and probably for a good long while afterwards too.”

Duncan nodded.  “Aye, it is daunting, but-” he stopped just when Ciaran would have most liked him to continue.

“But?” she prompted.

“But I’m sure it’ll be all right,” he said, smiling, but Ciaran didn’t believe that had been what he was originally going to say.  “It’s always best to be optimistic, no sense borrowing trouble.”

“Oh, and does that philosophy work for you?” Ciaran snorted.

The effervescent sunshine that always shone behind Duncan’s eyes seemed to dim and Ciaran gave a little uncomfortable shiver.

“Well, one day I’m hoping it might,” Duncan muttered, cracking the whip.

What was that supposed to mean
? Ciaran thought in frustration.
That he thought things would be better once he was rid of her?
She wished she had the courage to simply
ask
him what he was trying to say, but, of course, she didn’t. Sean had never permitted questions, and the rule was too ingrained now to be ignored. She held her silence, trying to act a little brighter while the miles slipped past.

“We’ll be at Staunton tomorrow,” Duncan announced that evening, after dinner. He’d taken his meal with the other men, for a change, and returned to the wagon brimming with news.

“What’s at Staunton?” Ciaran asked, frowning. She was still in the dark about many of the finer details of the trip.

“Not a lot, as yet,” Duncan replied with a laugh. “There’s a trading post for the trappers, and a little farm
run by a man named John Lewis. LaSoeur reckons we ought to stay there a few days until we hear the latest news further west.”

“Latest news?” Ciaran asked, anxiously. “About what?”

Duncan glanced at the children, and then back at her. “About the…er…
native population
,” he replied, not wanting to scare them. There hadn’t been any more Indian attacks, but there had been plenty of sightings and enough close encounters to keep everyone’s nerves taut. He didn’t want to scare the family any more than strictly necessary.

Luckily, the boys were too distracted playing with a turtle they’d caught to pay Duncan any mind, and so Ciaran answered in a whisper: “Is there trouble? What’s going on?”

“Maybe nothing,” Duncan said in a soothing tone. He flashed his smile, blue eyes disappearing as they crinkled on the sides, “That’s the point. We just want to know before we go on…
if
we go on.”

We
!
He had said ‘we’
!

Ciaran was so fixed on his expression that she didn’t immediately register his point.

“
If
?” she asked, after it had time to sink in.

Duncan nodded, “Aye,
if
…LaSoeur thinks they’ll be a claim or two for sale here, either families heading back East, or trappers pushing further West, who reckon civilization’s getting a little too close.”

“Too close?” Ciaran laughed weakly, nodding pointedly at the murky forest.

Duncan nodded, admitting the humor in the remark. “Aye, but you’ve heard how these trappers are…put them more than one night under a proper roof and they’re stifled! At any rate, there may be opportunities here…for someone who wants them.”

“But- we’d planned to go to Ken-tuh-ke!” Ciaran said, confused and not wanting to show how frightened she was at the notion Duncan might not accompany them the rest of the way.

Duncan cast another wary look at the children. “Two weeks yet,” he told her, “Possibly three- and that’s four days on a raft on the Ohio River. It’s dangerous for a full-grown man, much less the bairns…”

Ciaran nodded. She hadn’t been told about the “water” portion of the proposed journey until after they were on their way. The prospect of shooting down the wide, wild river on a homemade boat was frankly terrifying. She’d avoid it if she could, only-