Chapter Six

 

 

Colin wanted to take Kristina back to the castle posthaste. He didn't want her to have to spend the night in a cave. But since it was autumn, gloaming arrived early.

Ethan and Rusty had climbed up the cliff so they might peer down from the top toward Bearach in the distance and see if the battle was over.

Ethan strode toward Colin where he stood before the cave entrance. "It appears the fighting is over, sir."

Colin was glad to hear that, at least. "Could you tell who the victor was?"

"The MacDonald standard remains flying from the gatehouse tower. Just from their movements and the color of their tartan, I recognized some Camerons and MacDonalds walking around down there."

Relief relaxed his muscles a bit, but all was not resolved as of yet. "Did you happen to see the chief?"

"We were too far away to identify him."

Warton and Lawrie rushed up the hill, breathing hard. "We heard a sword fight and yells down below," Warton said. "We're thinking Patrick and Thorburn were ambushed by the enemy. We ran to their aid but couldn't find them."

Fury and alarm surged through Colin. "Damnation, surely not! How many attacked?"

"We couldn't tell. Do you want us to go search for them?"

Hell, normally he would have a couple dozen men with him, but he hadn't planned on hiding in a cave. "Nay, I need all of you here to protect the lady. They may try to reclaim her to exchange for any prisoners."

He cared about Patrick and Thorburn. They were his clansmen, distant cousins, and friends. But, as soldiers, they had known the risks of their duties, especially after a battle where some of the enemies had survived and scattered. They should've been more canny.

"Since gloaming is upon us, we'll stay the night in the cave and be extra vigilant. We'll have to fight our way back to the castle in the morn. 'Twill be dark soon, and we don't know how many enemies are lurking in the wood. We may be outnumbered."

The men nodded gravely.

Colin prayed that Neacal would send out a search party for them, especially since only five of them remained to protect Kristina, if Patrick and Thorburn had been killed. He prayed they were only injured. If not, he would miss them sorely. Both good men.

"Ethan and I will take first watch," Warton said.

"I thank you. I'll take the lady into a deeper chamber where she'll be safer." Colin entered the cave again.

Kristina turned toward him. "What's happened? Did someone get ambushed?"

Colin figured she must have heard them talking. "Aye, two of my men, Thorburn and Patrick."

A troubled frown crossed her brows. "Oh no. Do they yet live?"

"I have no inkling. I pray they do. Enemies are lurking about the wood. We'll stay in the cave this night and protect you."

She averted her face. "I'm sorry to be the cause of all this."

"'Tis not your fault. Blackburn and his men caused it when they kidnapped you and then showed up here making demands."

"Still, if your two men died, they did it while protecting me." She lifted her face again, her tears sparkling in the dimness. "And the rest of you could be in danger. Do you think they will find us?"

He didn't want to scare her, but chances were their hiding place would be discovered. All of them had to be prepared. "'Tis possible. I'll take you deeper into the cave where you'll be more protected. There are two more caverns."

"I didn't know that."

"Aye, well, 'tis not a very pleasant place, but safer than out here. If you'll give me your hand, I'll help you stand." After she lifted it, he took her small, delicate hand in his, alarmed at how cold it was, and tugged her up. He would have to warm her again, and though it made him feel like the worst rogue, he could not deny he looked forward to it.

Carrying the plaid in his other hand, he led her across the cave floor. "The second chamber is dark and low. And the third contains a small river flowing down from the lochan on the mountain. After the rain, the river will no doubt be more swollen than usual. The passage between the last two caverns is especially narrow."

"I won't mind as long as we're all safe."

Well, he couldn't guarantee the safety of all of them, but he could focus on increasing hers.

Since the first opening was only about four feet tall, they were forced to duck down to enter the cave's second chamber. Only the barest hint of light seeped in from the two entryways on either side of the cavern. He felt along the floor and found a smooth, dry spot near the cave wall, then spread out his plaid.

"Sit here." He led her forward and helped her sit. Though he couldn't see her in the darkness, he felt that her body was tense and her breathing shallow and fast. How could he get her to relax? "Neacal and I used to explore these caves when we were lads. We climbed the cliffs and did all sorts of insane things." He smiled at the memory.

"He must be a wonderful friend to you."

"Aye. Like a brother." Colin knelt before her. "Lie down. We'll sleep here."

"But… I don't know if I can sleep."

"You can rest, at least. You must be exhausted."

"'Tis true."

"Just a wee nap, then," he suggested. "I'll protect you with my life."

"I don't want you to risk your life for me anymore." Her vehement tone surprised him.

"'Tis worth it."

Kristina felt humbled and honored that Colin would take such chances because of her. What had she done to deserve being treated so kindly? Maybe it wasn't her at all. 'Twas he who was the special one.

Though she didn't truly wish to lie down, she did because he wanted her to. She was far too worried to sleep. What if Red Holme and more of Blackburn's men invaded this cave and killed them all? 'Twould be her fault. She never, ever wanted to be the cause of someone else's death. Unless it was Holme or Blackburn. She would kill them if she had to, in self-defense, or to protect Anna or Colin. Blackburn and his men had already murdered too many innocent people.

Colin lay down beside her, gently drew her close into his arms and pulled the other half of his wool plaid over them both.

"Put your hands here between us so they'll get warm." He drew one of her hands against his chest, and she moved the other one.

His deep voice and delicious heat seeped into her, so soothing yet so thrilling. Still, she felt the tension in his hard body and rigid position. Based on his breathing, it seemed his head was cocked backward slightly, as if he was listening for intruders.

He moved his head a bit closer to hers. "Are you warm enough?"

"Aye."

"Relax and get some sleep, then."

"Mayhap you should, too."

"I'll try. How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep?"

"I've only slept a few hours each night since I was captured, especially after Red Holme attacked me. I was afraid to close my eyes after that. But I know I must have slept, because I would jolt awake during nightmares at times."

"The bastard," Colin growled. "Pray pardon."

"I have called him many names myself."

"To his face?" Colin sounded surprised.

"Of course."

He snorted. "I admire your bravery."

Colin kissed the top of her head, surprising her and making her feel warm and tingly all over. Of its own will, her hand tightened in the material of his shirt. She wanted to pull him closer still. Having a man hold her was a startling new experience for her. She'd never imagined she would enjoy such a thing. Generally, she wanted men to stay a great distance away from her. But Colin was so different. Almost instantly, she'd felt very comfortable with him. His voice had calmed her and inspired trust.

She snuggled closer and fantasized they were lying in a huge, firm bed in his home, no doubt a fine castle. She sighed at how wonderful that would be.

She felt him stiffen of a sudden. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Naught." His response was quick and his voice gruff, making her suspect he was lying. Had he heard a noise she'd missed? She listened for a moment, detecting nothing but silence. One of his hands caressed her back, soothing her again.

He was so sweet and caring. She pressed a small, silent kiss to the shirt covering his chest. She was certain he couldn't feel it. She hoped. But she wished she could kiss him all over, especially his lips. She wondered what they looked like and, most especially, what they felt like.

His hand moved upward into the back of her hair to gently massage her scalp. Delightful tingles spun down her neck and along her spine. His fingers felt heavenly. She sighed again and, with it, a soft moan slipped out, against her will.

"Kristina?" Her name was a guttural murmur against her hair.

Och, nay! He had heard it. What would he think? "Aye?"

"What are you doing?" He sounded as if his teeth were clenched.

"Naught. What are you doing?"

"Hell if I know. You're driving me mad."

Why on earth would the minute sound she made vex him so? She moved back a few inches. "What am I doing that so annoys you?"

He blew out a breath. "'Tis not annoyance, lass. Surely you ken that."

Nay, she did not ken the entirety of what he meant. She had no familiarity with men, had never even experienced a real kiss, truth be told. If he was not annoyed, what was he? "What do you mean by mad, then?"

"Damnation," he muttered.

"I'm sorry I've angered you." She drew farther away.

"Kristina." He stroked his palm up the undamaged side of her face. "I'm not angry, sweet lass," he murmured.

The change in his tone from irritable to compassionate brought tears to her eyes. "What then? I'm tired of this riddle. I don't understand you."

He tilted her face upward and pressed his mouth against hers. But it wasn't a simple, quick peck. Nay, indeed. His mouth did not leave hers. Instead, his lips explored hers and then suddenly his tongue was flicking against her lips and teasing her mouth. Good heavens! She had never imagined a kiss could feel like this.

When men had pressed their lips to hers in the past, all she'd felt was repugnance. But this was the opposite. Colin's mouth was delicious and appealing against hers. She reveled in this contact and wanted more. She opened her mouth as he seemed to want her to do and he delved inside, took the kiss deeper. Tingles spread from her breasts downward. The feeling of wanting was so overwhelming she knew not what to do.

His hand slid down her back to her hips and he gathered her closer against his body.

Suddenly he tore himself away from her. "Hell. I'm sorry."

She gasped for breath. After finally drawing in enough, she whispered, "Why? That was amazing."

He shoved himself to his feet. "Ow!" He hopped about, muttering several colorful Gaelic curses.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Stubbed my toe on a damnable rock."

"If 'tis dark in here, mayhap you should lie down."

"I cannot. You tempt me too much."

A heated flush of happiness covered her. Very few men found her tempting. Was he being honest?

He'd certainly sounded sincere.

She smiled. "That's the first true kiss I've experienced. Thank you for showing me how wonderful that can be."

Colin was silent for a long moment. "What does that mean? Has someone else kissed you?" He sounded almost possessive, and she was unsure how she felt about that.

"Red Holme smooshed his disgusting mouth to mine when he attacked me, so I would not call that a kiss. Years ago, before I was blinded, another man pressed his paper-dry lips against mine for an instant, and I would not call that a kiss either. But what you did…" She would remember forever. It stole her thoughts and sent her to another realm. "Anyway, I don't mind if you kiss me again."

He muttered more curses, which she didn't understand. Maybe it had disgusted him as much as Holme's kiss had disgusted her.

Tears burned her eyes. "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. But I know not how to kiss."

"Damnation, Kristina," he muttered. "I loved the kiss. Do you not know that?"

She would never comprehend men. "Then why are you so angry?"

He laughed without humor. "Saints! I keep forgetting how naïve you are."

"Well, pray pardon! I cannot help it that I'm not experienced!" This whole conversation was mortifying to her.

He lay down beside her again. "I don't wish you to be experienced," he said with gentle compassion and kissed her forehead. "Unless I'm your teacher."

Imagining him teaching her about kissing and passion, her whole body heated. "Would you… teach me how to kiss?" she whispered.

"I will. Aye." He hissed a breath through his teeth. "Once we reach Bearach Castle." He turned to his back. "At the moment, I must focus all my attention on protecting you."

She felt completely out of her depth, and he seemed beyond her reach. "You're right. 'Twas silly of me to ask."

"Nay, not silly at all."

Hell, to Colin's way of thinking, Kristina was already so good at kissing, she near made his mind explode. Only the danger they were in kept his arousal down to a manageable level. He covered them up with the plaid and turned his back to her. She snuggled against him, making it hard to breathe normally. He couldn't remember a woman arousing him so much with a simple touch.

After a few minutes, he felt himself drifting toward sleep. Sensual dreams of Kristina filled his head.

Sometime later, battle cries echoed, waking Colin and yanking him from the comforting embrace he shared with Kristina. Alarm for her safety propelled him to his feet.

"What's happening?" she gasped.

"Must be an attack. Stay here." He grabbed the sword and targe by his side and took out his dirk.

As he bent and moved along the narrow passage, steel clashed in the outer cave. One man growled in pain. He prayed 'twas not a Cameron.

Once Colin emerged from the passage, he saw that four enemies had entered the cave and were battling his own men. A lantern sat near the entrance and dawn light filtered in, revealing the bearded, ginger-haired man who'd held Kristina at knifepoint when first he'd seen her. She'd called him Red Holme.

Colin charged him, hoping to off him quickly.

Holme deflected the strike and attempted one of his own. "Cameron, you thieving, murdering bastard!"

Colin lifted his targe, catching the blow. "Lady Kristina was never yours." He struck again.

The man leapt back. "I'm nay talking about her."

"What then?" Colin moved forward aggressively.

"Do you remember the name MacKillican? I'll never forget what your family did to mine, Colin Cameron."

MacKillican? Colin halted, frowning. They were the ones who had been proven traitors to the crown over ten years ago, their lands and castle seized by the king and given to Colin's father for the part he'd played in squashing the rebellion. "I thought your name was Red Holme."

"'Tis not my real name."

"The MacKillican chief was the thief and murderer! He killed the king's representative." Colin sent a lunging strike toward the other man's abdomen. Holme blocked it, the swords clanging.

One of Holme's injured men fell onto the lantern, casting the cave into near darkness. The muted glow of dawn at the entrance was the only remaining light.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Holme yelled and the three of them fled out the cave's exit, leaving their fallen comrade behind.

"Capture them!" Colin ordered, then lowered his voice. "I'll hide the lady deeper in the cave."

"Aye." Warton rushed out into the dawn light behind Rusty, Ethan and Lawrie.

Colin checked the man lying on the ground and found he was not breathing. He dragged his body outside, then returned to the cave and hurried through the passage.

"'Tis me." Colin entered the second cavern, again finding it dark as pitch and disorienting. This was what Kristina had to live with every day. He didn't know how she dealt with it.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Your friend Red Holme paid us a visit."

"Saints! I knew 'twas him. Is anyone injured?"

"One of his men was killed. The rest ran. I sent my men to capture them. I want to hide you deep in the cave until they're no longer a threat to you."

"Good heavens," she muttered. "'Tis ridiculous that Red Holme would try to take me hostage again."

"I agree, especially since his clan was the loser in the battle at Bearach Castle. But now I'm thinking he probably wants to kill me more than he wants to capture you."

"Why on earth would he?"

"I didn't ken it until moments ago, but we have history. When I was a lad of fifteen, my father rooted out some traitors to the crown. 'Twas my first battle. We fought the MacKillican clan and won. Those not killed during the battle were imprisoned, except for some who fled. He claims to be the chief's son."

"He has always gone by Holme, not MacKillican. Is he telling the truth?"

"Most likely. He recognized me and called me by name. He looked far different back then, but I do see the family resemblance. He's starting to look more like his father now."

"So, he wants revenge against you personally for something your father and your whole clan did?"

"Aye, like I said, I fought in the battle."

"How could you at such a young age? Did your father not fear you would be killed?"

"I had been training every day since I could walk, and I was big for my age, almost the height I am now. During practice, I often bested men twice my age."

"I'm greatly impressed."

He snorted. "I was not trying to brag. Just letting you know why my father didn't worry. And neither should anyone else."

"Well, I will worry about all of us until we are safely behind castle walls."

"I will get you down to Bearach as soon as I can. In the meantime, I'm going to take you into the third chamber of this cave. 'Twill make it harder for them to find you."

She agreed that might be for the best.

Crawling along the narrow, damp passage, Kristina heard the rushing water of the small river Colin had told her about earlier. Though her skirts hampered her efforts to navigate the constricted passage, Kristina managed it well enough and after another minute, Colin helped her stand.

"The river is more swollen than usual because of yesterday's storms." Because of the water's roar, he raised his voice a bit as he spoke near her ear.

"Is the water deep?"

"I'm guessing about four feet at the moment and running swiftly."

"And is it dark in here?" She liked to visualize places as much as possible since sight had been a part of her life for so long.

"Aye, but not as pitch-black as the second chamber. The barest hint of light filters in from the channel cut by the water, but 'tis still as dark as deepest gloaming."

After crawling, her hands felt crusted in mud and dirt. "Could I wash my hands and drink from the river? Is it clean?"

"Aye. It comes down from the mountain. No one lives up there that I'm aware of."

He led her forward. When she crouched, he held onto her arisaid lest she lose her balance and fall into the river. After she washed the dirt and mud from her hands and face, she drank several gulps of the icy, fresh-tasting water. Then he helped her stand again.

"Better?" he asked.

"Aye." She dried her face and hands on her wool arisaid.

After washing his hands, he led her away from the river. "We can sit here." He helped lower her to the ground where he'd spread his plaid. "I'm sorry I have no food for you this morn. Ethan was unable to find any."

"I'm fine. I grew used to not eating as much during the journey."

"Becoming accustomed to the blindness must have been far harder. How did you do it?"

"Indeed, but I had no choice. I started listening more and noticing scents." Not long after her injuries, she remembered waking up at times and hearing male voices in the hallway outside the door of her chamber. Fear riveting her, she'd strained her ears to hear what was being said, but couldn't quite make it out. "'Twas a matter of survival."

Colin sat down beside her. "I'm sorry you had to suffer through that. Blackburn should be horsewhipped."

She nodded. "I pray you will not feel sorry for me."

"I don't," Colin assured her. "I admire your strength and determination."

Her heart swelled with gratitude at his kind words. "'Tis times like this I miss my sight most."

"During times of danger?"

"That, too, but… more because I can't see you." She smiled and averted her face, wondering how forthright she could be with him. Very rarely in her life had she been around a man she found compelling and exciting. Should she sit in fear or tell him what she really thought? She had never been one to let fear rule her.

"You must be a handsome man," she said.

He chuckled. "I have no inkling whether you would think so or not."

Her face heated, and she found herself smiling at the sound of his warm laugh. Though he had kissed her the night before, she had not thought to trace her fingers over his face to feel what he looked like. She well knew he didn't have a beard or mustache and that his lips had a sensual shape. But that was the extent of it.

This seemed a strange and suspended moment in time which was completely different from her normal life. She felt like being even bolder than she usually would be.

"Can I… find out?" she wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"Could I touch your face?"

He was silent for a long moment, then gruffly said, "Aye, if you wish."

She hesitated, uncertain as to why he'd paused. What was he thinking? "That is… if you don't mind."

"Not at all." He sounded more convincing that time.

On the plaid, she arose to her knees, hoping her hands wouldn't tremble with nerves. She trailed her fingers from his shoulders up his muscular neck and found that his thick hair fell a couple of inches below his collar. "What color is your hair?" she whispered, suddenly feeling the intimacy of the moment.

"Sandy brown," he murmured.

"Were you blond as a lad?"

"Aye."

"What color are your eyes?"

"Gray."

"That sounds like an interesting color." She did not recall seeing a man with gray eyes before. Were they like steel or slate… or silver? "Light or dark?"

"It depends." The smile came through in his tone.

Oh, what she wouldn't give to be permitted to look into his eyes for five minutes. This, above all things, made her yearn for sight more than ever before.

"Close your eyes." She stroked her palms and thumbs over the lower part of his face, feeling his strong, square jaw. His new growth of beard stubble scraped her palms. She was certain it must be light brown, too—appearing, in the sunlight, like flecks of dark gold. Avoiding his tempting lips, she stroked her fingertips over his nose, finding it straight and noble. His skin felt smooth, no scars to be found like on her own face.

Moving carefully, she stroked the fingertips of both hands over his forehead. "You have a high forehead. You must be highly intelligent."

A short laugh escaped him, his breath warming her wrists. "Some would argue that point."

Smiling, she smoothed her thumbs over his brows, finding them silky. The bone structure of his brows and cheekbones painted a picture in her mind of a man with an incredibly attractive, masculine face. But she would never know for certain if she was right or wrong in her imaginings of him. Her fingers trembled.

He grasped her hands and placed warm kisses on the back of each. "Is my façade that frightening?"

"Nay, on the contrary. You are a most handsome man."

"You exaggerate." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Heavens! He took her breath and her mind in one fell swoop. She leaned into him, and he pulled her to sit on his lap. His stubble scratched her chin and her upper lip, but she did not mind. His lips were soft and firm at the same time. Everything about him was amazing and dreamy. She relished the idyllic moment as one that neared perfection.

"Where are you, bastard?" The yell echoed from one of the first two chambers of the cave.

She froze as terror chilled her bones. "'Tis Holme."

 

***

 

Glaring at the darkened opening of the passage where Red Holme's voice had echoed, Colin helped Kristina sit on the ground. He arose and pulled the foot-long dirk from the scabbard at his belt, then picked up his sword from the ground. The bastard would find him and Kristina soon enough. If the man was alone, Colin should be able to take him down, although he did not intend to be overconfident. Holme might have a man or two with him.

"Kristina, stay here, in the back corner of the cave," he whispered.

"Aye."

What had happened to Colin's men? How had Red Holme gotten back here without Rusty or Warton seeing him? Damnation, he might have killed both of them. Lawrie and Ethan, too. A sinking feeling settled into his gut.

"I have a knife," Kristina whispered. "He comes near me, I'll stab him. Please have a care."

"I will." Colin was glad Kristina had a weapon, at least, but he intended to do the man in before he could reach her.

A dim light glowed from the entrance to this small cavern.

"He has a lantern," Colin murmured. He'd probably managed to use a flint to light the one that had been snuffed out earlier. Intending to use the element of surprise, Colin picked up a nearby stone.

Holme's breath whooshed in and out as he crawled closer. The lantern dangling from a hand came into Colin's view, then a head. Colin drew back his arm and threw the stone at the lantern. Rock crashed against metal. Holme dropped the lantern and growled out a curse. Near darkness reigned again, but he could still see a hint of movement.

Colin heard a swish and was surprised to see a fist-sized rock whizzing from Kristina's direction. She met her target and Holme roared, "You bastard! I'll kill you for that!"

Colin's chest swelled with pride and admiration for Kristina. With her blindness, how on earth had she managed to strike him? She was a little hellion!

In the dimness, Colin charged Holme before he could rise to his feet, sword aimed at his neck. Holme rolled aside and the sword tip rang against the stone floor. Colin struck again, hitting metal-studded armor.

Holme grabbed Colin's ankle and yanked. Everything spun as Colin flipped through the air and fell to the ground. He landed on his elbow and hip. Pain shot through both joints, but he ignored it as fury and battle lust consumed him.

Before he could arise, metal clanged against the stone beside him—the tip of Holme's blade stabbing into the cave floor as he tried to strike Colin. Using his dirk, Colin slashed upward, making contact. Holme yelped.

Colin rolled out of the way and bounded to his feet. He slashed his sword back and forth toward Holme's dull silhouette. Sparks popped off the smashing blades, providing a bit more illumination. This was a horrid place to fight—too dark and enclosed.

Holme's blade struck Colin's sword arm, forming a shallow but painful gash. "Bastard!" He slashed back, cutting Holme's wrist and eliciting a growl. Twice more their blades clashed and Holme's blade went flying through the air.

Colin drove his blade toward Holme's gut, but before he could make contact, Holme dodged aside and crouched. Instantly, he launched himself at Colin with a roar, tackling him backward. Colin's back smashed against a large stone. Amid the blinding pain, he lost his grip on the sword, and it clattered away.

"Damnation!" Colin shoved at Holme, then slashed his forearm with the dirk. Yelling, Holme knocked the blade from his hand, dragged him up and punched his jaw, knocking Colin backward. Unable to stop the fall, Colin splashed into the icy river and his head struck a stone, triggering devastating pain. "Nay!" he yelled before the rushing water engulfed him and carried him downward. In the shock of it, he forgot to hold his breath. Cold water filled his lungs.