To Marry A Scottish Laird (4 page)

C
AM WAS PACIN
G THE CLEARING AND F
RETTING
over what was taking Jo so long when he heard her scream. He whirled in the direction he thought the sound had come from and by the time the second scream sounded, he was running. The problem was he had no idea where she was, and after the second scream there was nothing to lead him to her. Cam shouted her name several times, but got no response, and then simply had to search the underbrush and area along the river. He did so quickly and methodically, aware that the sun was on its downward journey and he had to find her before dark.

Cam had been searching for what seemed like forever, growing more anxious by the moment when he glimpsed what looked like a bundle of cloth under a tree ahead. Eyes squinting, he moved slowly toward it, but then broke into a run when he recognized that it was Jo, lying on her back.

“Jo?” he said, dropping to his knees beside her. When she moaned and turned her head, relief coursed through him like he’d never before experienced. Her eyes were still closed, but she was alive at least, and she was stirring.

Bending, Cam scooped her up in his arms and straightened. The action brought her eyes open and she moaned again and winced as if the light bothered her.

“Oh, my head,” she muttered, turning to press her face against his chest.

“What happened?” Cam asked, carrying her quickly back along the river toward the clearing.

“I fell out of the tree,” she admitted on a sigh, raising one hand weakly to the base of her skull. Wincing at her own touch, she pulled her hand away and Cam cursed when he saw the blood on her fingers.

“What the devil were ye doing in the tree in the first place?” he asked sharply.

“Trying to get a pheasant,” she admitted, sounding weary. Jo blinked her eyes open to give him a wry smile as she explained, “I knocked it out with my slingshot. I thought it was dead, but when I started to come back down the tree with it, it woke up and startled me. I fell . . .” She shrugged and turned her face into his chest again. “Sorry, I guess we won’t be having pheasant for supper as I’d hoped.”

“I’ll find us supper. Ye should ha’e left it to me to begin with.”

“You are still healing,” she began and then suddenly stiffened and turned her face to his, eyes popping open. “Damn. Put me down. You shouldn’t be carrying me. You’ll open your stitches. Put me down, Cam.”

“Me stitches are fine,” he growled, tightening his arms around her and ignoring the pain in his back. “They will no’ be fer long, though do ye no’ stop squirming.”

Jo went still at once, but glared at him for his obstinacy. The sight made Cam smile. She looked so cute with her face all swollen and scrunched up like that. It made him think this must be what little evil elves must look like.

“What are you smiling about?” she grumbled, turning her face away to see where they were.

“Ye do no’ want to know, la-ad,” he stumbled over the word, barely catching himself from calling her lass. He’d have to be more careful about that, he supposed and shook his head as they reached the clearing.

“Let me see your back,” Jo said when he carried her to the river’s edge and set her down to lean against a boulder there.

“ ’Tis fine,” Cam assured her and turned to go find both their bags. He’d forgotten all about the damned things in his panic when he’d heard her scream. He should have hidden them the moment he’d taken them off the horse, he supposed and then shrugged the worry away. He’d found her, and the bags were still here which was fortunate since they needed her medicinals.

“Tell me what I should do,” Cam ordered as he returned.

“You should show me your back,” she said grimly. “I want to see the stitches and be sure you haven’t pulled any of them.”

“They are fine,” he repeated, dropping his bag at her feet and turning his attention to opening hers.

“Then show me,” she snapped, and then grabbed for her bag with annoyance. “Give me that.”

“Ye’re bleeding,” he said grimly and rifled quickly through the bag. Sadly, he didn’t know a damned thing about healing, so in the end, merely removed a small swatch of linen and then handed her the sack and moved to the waterfall to stick the cloth under the icy running water. When he turned back, Jo was rifling through the bag herself, retrieving item after item. Cam ignored what she was doing and knelt beside her and reached for her head. “Let me see.”

“I am fine,” she said sharply, jerking back from him and putting one hand to her hat as if to stop him from taking it off. That was when Cam recalled that there was a long mane of glorious hair hidden under the cap she wore. If he tried removing it, her secret would no longer be a secret.

Cursing, he sat back on his heels and scowled. Let her think she kept her secret or tend her injury?

“I am the healer. Why do you not go hunt us up some supper while I tend this?”

The words were couched as a question, but the tone was definitely an order. He had been dismissed, Cam realized, and found it amusing, considering that just moments ago she’d been demanding to see his back to ensure it was all right. It seemed that given a choice between ensuring he hadn’t split his stitches and keeping her secret, keeping her secret won out.

“Go on, away with you,” Jo said, waving him away as if he were a pesky fly.

Cam hesitated, but then nodded and stood. He would let her keep her secret for now. But he would keep an eye on her, and if she showed any signs of serious damage, he would be tending her himself, secret or no secret.

“But I want to see those stitches when you return,” she added fretfully as he strode out of the clearing as ordered.

Cam merely grunted and continued until the woods closed around him, blocking him from view. He made a lot of noise as he moved through the brush to ensure she heard him leaving. But after he’d judged he’d gone far enough that she would think he was gone, Cam paused and made his way silently back. Head wounds were a nasty business, unpredictable at best, and he was determined to be sure she was all right before he would be willing to leave her alone for the amount of time it would take for him to scare up some dinner.

Reaching a tree at the edge of the clearing, Cam stationed himself behind it and leaned to the side to peer at Jo. His noisy exit had apparently reassured her, for she already had her cap off. Cam hadn’t been able to tell the color last night, since the sun had set and everything had been in shadow. Now he saw that it was a wave of fine spun gold.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, admiring the fair color until he noted the splotch of dark red just above and behind her ear. He scowled at the sight even as she covered it with the cloth he’d dampened at the waterfall.

Cam watched for several moments as she cleaned and then explored the area blindly with her fingers. When the worry on her expression eased and she merely applied salve before carefully catching up her hair in the cap and returning it to her head, he relaxed and slid away. Cam still would have liked to see for himself that the wound wasn’t a bad one, but he trusted her skills. Besides, she’d only cleaned the blood away once and hadn’t had to do it again before applying the salve. That suggested the bleeding had stopped, which was a good thing.

Glancing around the woods as he moved silently through them Cam briefly debated what to do about their meal. He could catch a rabbit, or hunt down that pheasant who had scared her out of the tree, or even catch fish . . . or he could head to the small village he knew was nearby and fetch them back a meal from the tavern there. While the tavern was small and didn’t offer lodging, it did serve some of the finest food he’d found on his travels. In fact, just the thought of his last meal there made his mouth begin to water . . . and that made his decision. The village tavern it was, he decided, and turned his feet in that direction.

It wouldn’t take long to walk there and back. It would have been faster on his horse, of course, but he hadn’t thought of it while he was in the clearing. Shrugging, he picked up his pace, and distracted himself with wondering what the tavern owner’s wife had cooked up that day.

Chapter 4

J
O SOAKED
THE LINEN IN THE WATER AGAIN
and raised it to press against her cheek until the cloth grew warm from her skin. She then glanced fretfully around as she dipped the cloth in the river water again.

Cam seemed to be taking a long time. The sun was almost completely below the horizon, leaving the sky afire with an orange glow that darkened to deep purple around the edges. Night would soon descend and he wasn’t yet back.

Perhaps he was having trouble finding game, she told herself, withdrawing the cloth from the water and pressing it to her cheek again. She didn’t have anything better to do while she waited.

Cam’s mount shifted where he stood and she glanced toward him, stilling when she noted that the beast’s ears were pricked. The animal had heard something, she realized, and began to scan the woods around the clearing, her ears straining to catch any telltale sound that someone approached. Still, she was caught by surprise when Cam suddenly stepped out of the trees and crossed the clearing toward her.

“I was beginning to worry,” she admitted.

“No need. It just took me longer than I expected,” Cam said easily, dropping the bag she hadn’t noticed he carried beside her and then kneeling to quickly wash his hands in the water.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously, eyeing the bag with interest as some rather heavenly smells wafted from it.

“Open it and see,” he suggested, shifting to sit in front of her so that they faced each other, legs crossed.

Jo didn’t even hesitate. The smells coming from the bag were amazing.

“That’s what took me so long,” Cam announced as she peered at the food inside. “The tavern owner’s wife was still cooking the chicken when I got there, but promised it would only be a trice before it was done. Her idea of a trice is apparently a lot longer than mine,” he added dryly.

“Chicken,” Jo almost moaned the word, but then glanced to him with surprise. “The tavern owner’s wife?”

“Aye. I have stopped here many times and there is a village a short walk away with a tavern that always has delicious food. Rather than hunt up our meal, and clean and cook it, I thought I’d simply buy it from the tavern keeper’s wife and fetch it back. Fortunately, while she was offering stew to the customers, she had a roast chicken for herself and her husband that I was able to convince her to sell me. A lucky thing since I had no idea how I would have fetched stew back here. It would have soaked through the trenchers before I could make it back.”

“Aye,” Jo murmured, her face practically buried in the bag as she examined the contents; roast chicken, dark bread, cheese and two ripe apples. It all looked and smelled divine.

“Well, what are ye waiting fer?” Cam asked suddenly. “I’ve been smelling that all the way back from the inn. Get the food out. Ye must be hungry. I ken I’m starved. We’ve no’ eaten since last night.”

Jo hesitated, and then set down the bag of food to reach for her medicinal bag. Aware that Cam was watching her with bewilderment, she quickly pulled out some clean dry linen and set it on the ground. Only then did she start to unpack the food from the inn. The strips of linen might not usually be used this way, but she hadn’t wanted to set the food on the ground and be spitting out dirt all night. Besides, the linen could be washed afterward.

“How’s yer head?” Cam asked, breaking off a drumstick from the chicken and passing it to her.

“A little sore but fine,” she answered. She then took the offered meat and murmured, “Thank you.”

She waited until Cam had broken off a leg for himself as well and was raising it to his mouth before taking her own first bite of the meat. The moment she did though, her eyes closed on a little moan of pleasure. She’d thought the rabbit was good, but this was positively heaven. Jo swallowed with a sigh and opened her eyes, the drumstick already rising to her mouth again. She wanted to go slow and savor, but didn’t think she could. This was possibly the best thing she’d ever tasted in her life. The truth was, while her mother had been a fine healer, she hadn’t been much of a cook, and Jo had learned everything she knew from her mother. Even had they been able to afford a whole chicken to roast, which they wouldn’t have, she never could have produced a bird as moist and well seasoned as this. And the bread and cheese were just as good, she found as she sampled those. It must be a popular inn indeed if it served such fine food, she decided.

Hungry as they were, and good as the food was, it didn’t take them long to clear away the chicken. Joan was done first and settled back to watch Cam finish off the rest of the bird. There was no sense saving any, it would only go bad. That wasn’t true of the cheese and bread though, so after a bite or two each, they’d decided to concentrate on the chicken alone and take the cheese, bread and apples with them to eat on the horse at nooning the next day.

“Well,” Cam said, swallowing the last bite of chicken. “That was well worth the walk and wait.”

“Aye,” Jo agreed with a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Me pleasure,” Cam said and then raised an eyebrow when she got to her feet. “Where are ye off to?”

“To wash chicken grease off me hands and . . . er . . . tend to other matters,” she muttered, aware that a boy would have said they were draining the snake or some other such thing.

“How’s yer head. Will ye be all right on yer own?” Cam asked with concern.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “My head barely aches anymore.”

“Hmm,” Cam muttered, and then shrugged and said, “Shout if ye need help.”

Jo merely grunted and headed off into the woods around the clearing. She hardly needed help relieving herself. Her head wound really wasn’t that bad. The bump was a good size, but not alarmingly large, and the ache really was easing. She suspected she’d been knocked out as much from having the wind knocked out of her when she hit the ground as from the blow to the head. In fact, she hadn’t lost consciousness until landing in the dirt with such a jolt.

A rustling in the bushes to her left made Jo slow and glance that way, but it was so dark away from the fire that she couldn’t see a bloody thing. It had been lighter last night. There was no moon tonight, she noted glancing up. No stars either and she wondered if the night sky wasn’t full of clouds blocking them. Whatever the case, it made her eager to return to camp and their fire, so Jo was quick about her business.

Cam already had his plaid wrapped around him like a blanket when she returned.

He lay down as soon as she stepped into the light cast by the fire and offered her a “Good sleep.”

“Good sleep,” Jo murmured in return and stretched out on the opposite side of the fire. She was just closing her eyes when she realized she’d forgotten to take a look at his stitches on his return. Sighing, she quickly got back to her feet and moved around to his side of the fire. The moment she blocked the flames and cast shadows on him, Cam opened his eyes. He raised his eyebrows when she stopped before him.

“I need to check your stitches,” she said firmly, afraid he would again claim he was fine and try to refuse her.

Cam considered her briefly, then shrugged and rolled onto his stomach.

Jo hesitated, but then knelt beside him and gently pulled the plaid down in the back. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw that his shirt was gone. A glance around showed it draped over a stick stuck in the dirt by the fire to dry. It was soaking wet. He’d either washed it, or—

“I waded into the water to wash me hands, slipped and got dunked,” Cam said with amusement at his own mishap. “Fortunately, a similar thing happened the last time I stopped here, so this time I took off me plaid ere stepping in else I’d be laying here naked.”

The words put an immediate image in her mind of his naked body stretched out before her like a feast. An image that quickly vanished when he glanced over his shoulder at her and added, “Take heed, the river’s bottom is flat stone fer a ways after the waterfall, and ’tis covered with moss and slippery. Use caution if ye go in else ye’ll end up on yer rump.”

Jo nodded quickly, letting her breath out with relief when he turned away again. Giving her head a shake, she turned her attention to his back again. She’d tugged the cloth down just far enough to reveal his shoulders before stopping to look around for his shirt. The skin revealed gleamed golden in the firelight. She tugged the plaid further down, baring his back and noted how the flames cast dancing shadows on it, emphasizing the rippling muscle as he folded his arms under his head and relaxed.

Cam was a beautiful man, she admitted to herself with a little sigh as her gaze ate up all that she’d revealed. She’d seen it before of course, but had been more concerned then with saving his life than the fine figure he cut. Now though, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at all that naked flesh.

“ ’Tis fine, is it no’?” Cam said suddenly. “I told ye it was.”

Jo gave a start at the words, her glance automatically dropping to the wound on his lower back. She immediately frowned. “Your wrapping is gone.”

“They got wet too,” Cam said, shrugging his shoulders and making the muscles in his back move in an almost mesmerizing way. “They’re under my shirt by the fire.”

Jo forced her gaze away to glance toward the shirt. She couldn’t see the bandages under the large shirt, but had no doubt they were there. Still she continued to look for a count of ten, just to allow herself to regain her composure. She had no idea why the sight of his bare back was affecting her this way. It was beautiful and she had the mad urge to run her hands over all that golden skin. Instead, she clasped her hands together, bit down hard on her lower lip and then turned back, determinedly focusing on his wound.

As he’d said, it was fine. Truly. The man must have a healthy constitution, for it was healing quickly, and she could see no sign of tearing from his carrying her. Still, she leaned to the side to grab her bag and opened it to retrieve her salve. ’Twas better to be safe than sorry, she told herself as she began to smear it gently on the wound. This had nothing to do with her desire to touch him, and everything to do with his healing. Really.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Jo finished with the task, quickly tugged the plaid back up over his shoulders and stood.

“Good?” Cam asked, rolling onto his side.

“Aye. ’Tis healing well,” she mumbled, turning away to move back around the fire to where she’d first lain down. “Good sleep.”

“Good sleep,” Cam responded, curling up in his plaid once more.

Sighing, Jo stretched out on her side and closed her eyes, but her mind was filled with moments from that day. Riding with her arms around Cam’s waist, her chest pressed to his back. His carrying her back to camp, his arms and chest surrounding her with heat and making her feel small and safe. His grin of anticipation when he’d watched her open the sack he’d brought back with him from the tavern. Cam lying half naked before her as she rubbed salve on his back . . .

Jo drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Muttering a curse under his breath, Cam shifted restlessly and peered at the woman on the other side of the dying fire. She was sleeping like the dead. He, however, was wide awake. Again. He’d had the devil of a time getting to sleep the night before and should be exhausted now . . . and he was, but that didn’t make a difference. He still couldn’t sleep. It was Jo’s fault. So far today she’d plastered her little body to his back like a leech on his horse, her hands just inches above the part of his body that had woken when he’d accidentally seen her undressing and learned he was a she. Then she’d gone and knocked herself out, scaring him silly and forcing him to carry her in his arms, her warm little body cradled against his. And then she’d moaned and sighed her way through their entire meal like a woman responding to a lover’s attentions. She had definitely forgotten she was supposed to be a boy there. No lad would react that way to a bit of chicken.

The
pièce de résistance,
though, was her rubbing salve on his back. It was not the first time she’d done it, and she hadn’t done it with any sort of sexual intent, but that hadn’t made any difference. His body had reacted as if it were foreplay and now he was wide awake and aching and she, bloody minded woman that she was, was completely unaffected.

A cold drop of liquid hit his nose and Cam blinked and brushed it off with one finger, his gaze moving automatically skyward just as another drop hit his forehead. Great! Now it was going to rain. He should have known. Clouds had been gathering in the sky as he’d made his way to and from the village, and darkness when it had come had arrived fast and hard as it was wont to do when clouds aided in its arrival.

Two more drops hit his face and Cam’s gaze slid to Jo. While his plaid was oiled on the outside and water would just run off it so that all he had to do was pull it over his head to remain dry, his traveling companion did not have such protection. She would be soaked in minutes once the clouds opened up. Another drop, on his eyelid this time, started him moving and Cam got quickly to his feet and rearranged his plaid as he moved around the fire to Jo’s side. He didn’t shake her awake or say her name, Cam just settled on the ground on his side behind her, and threw his plaid over to cover them both, then let his hand rest on her hip.

It took him about a heartbeat to realize that this might have been the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. Jo did not wake up, shrieking with dismay at his move. She didn’t wake up at all as far as he could tell, but she did murmur sleepily and press back closer against him. He had no doubt she was unconsciously seeking his body heat, but she was also wiggling her bottom into his groin in a most distracting manner.

Cam set his teeth and tried to ignore it, but the fact that they were cocooned in the plaid, leaving him surrounded by her scent, didn’t help any. Much to his relief, Jo suddenly murmured sleepily and rolled away from him and onto her stomach. At least he was relieved until he realized that his hand was now resting on her bottom rather than her hip. Cam closed his eyes and counted to ten as he fought the urge to squeeze the rounded cheek under his fingers, then carefully raised his hand. As he set it on his own hip, he acknowledged that it was going to be a very long night.