You cannot be serious.” Caitlin looked from one of them to the other, searching for some sign of laughter. They often exchanged jests, seemed to always be chuckling over some joke or another—normally at the expense of one of them.

They were all serious.

Brice held out the rope. “I’m sorry, lass, but this is the way it has to be.”

“My name is Caitlin, for one.” She dug her nails into her palms, willing herself not to reach out and slap the rope from his hands. And perhaps claw his eyes out while she was at it.

“My apologies. Caitlin. This is for the best.”

“According to who?”

“According to all of us,” Rodric replied.

“I didn’t ask you,” she snarled.

He bristled but continued nonetheless. “It’s for the best, Caitlin, because we cannot run the risk of you fleeing. No matter your reasons for doing so.”

She hoped he didn’t see her flinch. Her behavior of the evening prior was not something she was proud of. The way she’d wept!

Not out of heartbreak, but out of frustration at not being heard or understood. Not being able to explain herself fully. He would never know why she’d wanted to leave and would go on thinking it was a result of her stubborn nature.

He wouldn’t know it was for his sake, in order to spare him any further danger.

No, he’d rather believe himself the cleverest, the strongest, someone who knew so much better than she what was best for her.

Her nails dug in deeper. The pain helped keep her from crying all over again. It was always one of her least favorite qualities, the way she often cried when overwhelmed by strong emotion—even when that emotion was rage.

“Allow me to understand you.” She folded her arms, glaring at all of them until their gazes dropped to the ground.

All of them except one, naturally. Rodric jutted his chin out, challenging her to make him look away.

She scowled. “You expect me to ride with my wrist tied to one of yours at all times?”

“Aye. That is exactly what we expect. ‘Tis the only way to ensure you don’t follow the desire to run.”

“It is not my desire to run. I wished to do it because I knew I should. I still know it.”

“Which is why you will be tethered to one of us at all times. It’s really quite simple. So. Are you ready to start out?”

It was all too humiliating. He treated her like he’d treat a child, and when she was willing to sacrifice herself for his sake.

She’d not make that mistake again.

“Certainly. The sooner we arrive, the happier I’ll be.” It was a true challenge, keeping her head high as she went to her mare. The lovely animal dug at the ground with one hoof, snorting and whinnying in eagerness to be on her way.

Would that Caitlin could share her enthusiasm.

Rodric stepped up to her, the rope extended. “Your wrist, please.”

“Which one?” she asked with a sweet smile which belied the rage bubbling in her chest.

“The left, please. Your partner will ride to your left.”

Brice held on to the mare’s reins as she allowed Rodric knot the length of rope around her wrist. She ground her teeth until her mouth ached but would not allow them to see her humiliation.

“Not you,” she snapped as Rodric moved to tie the other end to himself. She knew he would tie it to himself, and that denying him would hurt his pride. “I want Brice.”

The tall, forbidding man cleared his throat loudly to cover a chuckle. Caitlin didn’t look his way. She looked at Rodric, one eyebrow arched in a silent challenge. What do you think of that?

His eyes narrowed, the muscles jumping in his jaw. “If Brice is amenable.”

“I see no reason why not.” Brice stepped between them—likely a measure to keep them from brawling like a pair of drunken fools. “I’ve been in far less pleasant positions with lasses far less lovely than yourself.”

Rodric all but threw the rope at his friend, which told her Brice’s remarks had hit their target.

There was more than enough slack between them to allow for riding single-file if need be, but the road they started out on was wide enough to ride two abreast. Rodric and Quinn rode in front of them with Fergus bringing up the rear.

As they trotted further away from Fiona and Kent’s farm—or, rather, what little was left of it—Caitlin’s heart clenched. She wouldn’t have looked back even if she could, knowing there was no longer anything to see but ruins and two mounds of freshly dug-up earth beside what was once a home.

Quinn exchanged a look with Rodric before glancing back at Brice, then Fergus. Moments later he dug in his heels, flicked the reins and took off at a gallop.

“Where is he going?” she asked. He hadn’t even said a word.

“He’ll ride ahead of us,” Brice explained. “He’ll alert our friends to the goings on here. It might be best for them to send out a few riders to meet us along the way.”

Her heart clenched tighter than before. “You believe we’ll need extra escorts?” If four fierce men such as these she rode with believed they needed assistance, was she as safe as she’d believed up to that point? Likely not.

“It cannot hurt,” he replied, offering her a brash smile. She decided she liked him. He was rather rough, yes, but he had a sense of humor about him which she couldn’t help but enjoy.

Even if she was tied to him, and him to her.

She also enjoyed the way he made a point of throwing jests at Rodric whenever he could.

“Might I ask a question?”

Brice turned his attention to her. “Certainly.”

Watching Rodric from the corner of her eye, she asked, “What is it you do together? The four of you, I mean?”

Fergus, riding behind them, choked slightly.

Brice’s eyes twinkled, but it was difficult to judge whether he smiled thanks to the unkempt beard which covered part of his mouth.

Rodric did not react. Not that she could see, at any rate.

“For starters, it isn’t only the four of us,” Brice explained. “We are what you might call the central group. The four who always travel together. There are several others who move in and out of our circle depending on where we happen to ride and what our destination happens to be.”

“Why? And what determines your destination?”

He faced forward, his chest puffing out as he drew a deep breath. “Oftentimes, there are people who need protection. Yourself, for instance. You need protecting at the moment because there are those in the world who might wish harm to ye, or who would have ye do as they say—while they might not have your best interests at heart, so to speak.”

“I see…”

“It’s up to men such as ourselves to ensure you’re looked after. We provide protection, assistance, and the like.”

She was no clearer on the subject than she’d been minutes earlier. “You say it’s up to you to do this. Why? According to whom?”

He chuckled. “According to ourselves.”

“Why?”

“Simply because it’s what we want to do.”

Fergus spoke up from behind her. “None of us could see the virtue of returning to lives of boredom after what we’d been through in the army.”

“It would be the first thing on my mind,” she admitted with a shrug. “After all of that, I’d want nothing more than to settle into safe boredom.”

“And there are many who share your opinion,” Brice replied, tugging a bit on the rope which connected them when she veered slightly to the right while looking over her shoulder to where Fergus rode.

She turned her attention forward to prevent that from happening again. “You prefer living as you do, then?” she asked, the question directed at the back of Rodric’s head.

He remained still and silent.

“Prefer?” Brice asked, scratching his wild hair until it looked wilder than ever. “I don’t know that I’d use that word. But there’s no fitting in with the civilized world for the likes of us.”

She kept her gaze trained on Rodric. “You truly believe that?”

Brice grunted. “Aye. We do.”

Rodric gave no movement, not a single flinch. Nothing to show her whether he agreed with his friend or not.

For the moment, something else took precedence over the many questions going through her mind. “You earn a living, doing what you do?”

“Aye. A lot of good it would do us if we didn’t,” Brice chuckled, and Fergus joined him.

“Who is paying you to do this for me?”

Brice’s chuckles turned to coughs.

“I have no silver of my own, you understand,” she explained. Was that what they expected? That she would make it worth their while?

Rodric had to know better than to believe she could hope to compensate them for the time and trouble they’d taken.

“We’re aware of that,” Brice assured her.

“Then, why? Why go to this trouble when no one is compensating you for it?”

He cut his eyes in the direction of his friend, whose straight back gave no indication of his even hearing their discussion. “Why, I don’t know. Perhaps you’d better have that out with someone who knows better than I do.”

For the first time since they’d begun speaking, Rodric reacted. He turned his head just enough to meet Brice’s gaze—and a stormy expression twisted his handsome features into a mask of fury. “Perhaps ye should mind matters which apply to you and allow others to take care of the rest,” he suggested in a cold voice.

“This was your idea?” Caitlin asked, genuinely surprised. “No one alerted you to my peril? No one offered a reward for your claiming me?”

“Who would have, lass?”

It came out as a snarl, like that of an angry dog, and she recoiled from the power of it. She hadn’t intended to bruise his pride, but the damage had already been done.

He snapped the reins, turning his attention to the road ahead as the horse carried him in a fast trot far from them.

Her heart sank. More than anything, she wished to ride ahead and apologize for having hurt his pride. Perhaps it was indelicate of her, asking such questions in front of the others, but she truly hadn’t counted on Rodric convincing his friends to go to this trouble without any other motivation other than her welfare.

She chewed her lip, lost in thought. It all became murkier with each passing day, the tenuous relationship they shared. As though she walked in a loch with a muddy bottom, her feet kicking up the silt until what had been clear before her entrance was now hopelessly clouded.

Brice clicked his tongue sorrowfully. “Och, lass, it’s sorry I am for pushing your lad too hard. Sometimes I do that, jesting when the time for jests has passed. It’s difficult, ye see, because I don’t know the time has passed until it’s already passed.”

“You don’t know you’ve gone too far until it’s too late.”

“That’s the truth of it,” he agreed.

He’s not my lad, she wished to protest, but that would have made her appear childish. There was no reason to argue the point, especially when Brice had just made it clear that everything they did, they did because Rodric had decided they would.

They rode on in silence. It seemed the safest course.

Rodric continued to ride far in the lead, his straight posture and refusal to so much as turn his head to the side making his feelings a mystery to her.