Breath of Yesterday (The Curse Series) (15 page)

“Get off,” Sean ordered. He helped me climb down from the cart before busying himself with Ross’s horse’s reins. In no time at all, they had lengthened the cart’s wooden shaft, using a tree branch and some rope so they could hook the horse to the cart in front of the oxen.

With a sense of horror, I stared at the road ahead. It stretched before us—muddy, steep, and seemingly endless. I was supposed to walk on
that
?

Once, in my former life, Payton had talked me into hiking up Ben Nevis mountain. Even though it had been one of the most unforgettable days of my life—it was the day I’d gotten my first kiss—I still remembered my pathetic physical shape. I had shuffled behind him, out of breath the entire time, and reached the limits of my capacities very quickly.

This time it wasn’t the highest peak in Scotland that lay before me, but still it didn’t exactly look like a walk in the park.

“She can come with me,” Payton suggested, stepping beside me. When Sean frowned disapprovingly, Payton quickly cut in, “If she walks, it’ll slow us down even further. Besides, she needs to keep up her strength so she can look after Father properly.”

Sean didn’t say a word—he just glared at Payton. They stood there for a long time, locking horns, without either of them giving in. Finally, Blair decided the matter by nodding in my direction.

“Get on your horses already. I have no intention of letting Father sleep under an open sky. We all need a decent meal and dry beds. Now, get moving.”

Sean turned to look me up and down. “With a woman like her in front of you, it will probably make for very uncomfortable riding. Have you thought about that, Payton?”


Fan sàmhach,
Sean! Let that be my problem, not yours.”

Impatiently, Payton pulled his horse’s reins and helped me into the saddle before pulling himself up behind me. I gasped in surprise when he wrapped his lower arm around me, pulling me close against his body. His thighs touched mine when he gently squeezed to make his horse move. And with the horse’s first step, my head was thrown back against Payton’s chest. For the next few minutes, I sat as stiff as a poker in front of him, trying to ignore that nice feeling of intimacy and familiarity he stirred. Fortunately, everyone else’s attention was focused on the cart and the safety of our passage, so nobody seemed to notice my emotional turmoil.

“Relax,” Payton whispered into my ear.

“What?” I found it hard to even hear him over the pounding of my heart.

“You can lean against my chest. If you’re going to sit like this, all stiff and tensed up, you will feel every single muscle in your body later.”

I found it touching that he cared, but I was still holding a grudge for his awful behavior earlier. M
y
feelings were hurt because the kiss I had so longed for back in the woods had been nothing to him but a lesson he wanted to teach me. What a jerk! And even though it was unfair to blame him for what his brother Sean said earlier, I did think it was pretty rude of him not to disagree that my presence would prove “uncomfortable.” And so I stiffened up even more and tried—as idiotic as that was—to shift away from him.

He gave a pained groan, and another Gaelic curse escaped his lips.

“All right, do what you want, Sam, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

An hour after refusing his peace offering, I was barely able to stay in the saddle. My entire backside was flooded with pain, my shoulders were stiff, and the muscles in the back of my neck were rock solid. Because the road had been getting better for a while, I kind of expected to be loaded back onto the oxcart. I prayed for it to happen as quickly as possible, because I really couldn’t make it much longer. I shifted from my left butt cheek to my right, stuck out my chest, and tried to briefly take the pressure off my back. It didn’t work.

The sound of wild laughter tore me from my self-pitying thoughts. Sean and Kyle were riding level with us, and both were grinning from ear to ear. I didn’t understand what was so funny, but Payton evidently did. He glared at his brothers and hissed at me:

“Keep still already! You’re fidgeting like you’re sitting on an anthill!”

The expression on his face didn’t bode well, so I clenched my teeth and tried to stop squirming. My being here was probably just as uncomfortable as Sean had said. After all, to him I was a Cameron—the enemy. I could not afford to forget that. With my last ounce of pride, I stuck out my chin. Under no circumstances would I show any weakness—no, sirree!

I distracted myself by admiring the artful embroidery on Kyle’s saddle. Highland thistles lined up in a row and contrasted with the pale leather.

Kyle had spurred on his horse, but I could still hear him chuckling from up ahead. Sean was not nearly so tactful.

“If this is getting too hard for you, Brother, I would be happy to swap,” he said, pointing to the space in front of his saddle.

Vigorously shaking his head, Payton replied through gritted teeth. “
Pog mo thon
, Sean! I can only imagine why you’d want to
sacrifice
yourself. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Sean laughed and spurred on his horse. “You’re a hard one to trick, aye?” he called over his shoulder while giving me a sly wink.

I almost didn’t catch Payton’s mumbled “So are you” because he had already stopped his horse and was in the process of dismounting. He busied himself with the saddle strap and nestled on his kilt, before motioning for me to climb down myself.

“What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?”

Puzzled, I watched as the rest of our posse disappeared around a bend.

“We will walk for a while. The horse needs a break.”

He reached into his bag, brought out a silver bottle, and took a generous sip before handing the bottle to me.

“There, drink! It’ll give you energy.”

I flinched as I reached for it. My shoulder muscles heavily protested making any sort of movement.

“Ow!”

Payton gave me a triumphant look.

“Didn’t I warn you? There, drink, it’ll loosen your muscles. Or at the very least it will numb the pain.”

I didn’t really trust that Scottish cure-all, but I still took a sip of the stuff anyway.

Bah, if I continued like this, I’d be an underage alcoholic by the time I got back to the twenty-first century.

“Thanks.”

I enjoyed having Payton all to myself. Finally I was able to collect my thoughts and, because I no longer had to worry that I was bothering him on account of my presence, my anger at him faded into the background.

The sky had turned a dark blue and was on the verge of showing off its nightly star-studded gown. The distant mountain peaks had turned into black shadows that surrounded us like a soot-colored cauldron. Only in the far distance, in the valley before us, could we make out a shimmer of light.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Kilerac. That is where, God willing, we will find lodgings for the night.”

“And if not?”

Payton smirked. “If not, we’ll have to camp out here on the heath and keep each other warm.”

I found the way he talked completely unnerving. At times, he would call me a burden, but then later he would try to provoke and tease me. And I hadn’t forgotten that moment earlier when he was
this
close
to kissing me.

“Well, I would rather freeze to death than allow
you
to keep me warm,” I snapped because I just didn’t know how to react. “Besides, I don’t want to make this another
uncomfortable
night for you.”

I quickened my step and promptly left Payton and his horse behind me. I didn’t stop, even when I heard them following me. Jesus, I could no longer make heads or tails of myself. I had loved Payton for a long time, yet it felt like I was just now falling for him.

He was so hard to predict, but at the same time he was incredibly honest and genuine. Payton’s dark moodiness that had come about due to bearing a curse for two hundred and seventy years—all that was missing from the man here with me. His laughter was contagious, and a wonderful sense of humor always twinkled in his eyes.

Even now I could hear the suppressed chuckle in his voice as he called after me.

“As God is my witness, Sam, you have no idea
how
uncomfortable that night would be for
me
.”

Hurt and furious, I spun around with my fists clenched by my sides.

“You are such an asshole, Payton McLean! What gives? Why would you say such a thing? Isn’t it enough that you took me prisoner? Do you really have to put me down, hurt my feelings, and strip me of my dignity? Is that what you’re trying to do?”

Payton dropped his horse’s reins and stepped closer. He came so close that our bodies almost touched. I felt queasy. Had I gone too far? After all, I didn’t know what this man was capable of.

He lifted my chin, and again I could see the desire in his eyes.

“You want to know why I’m saying these things?”

His grip on my chin tightened, and with his other arm he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer.

“Because it’s the truth. Riding with you was an ordeal.
Hell on Earth.
Sheer torture. Just the thought of keeping you warm at night—of covering your body with mine—has me at the limits of my self-control.”

His iron grip was unrelenting. Each of his words came like a lash of the whip, even though he was whispering. “You’re a Cameron, I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. But do you want to know what I’m planning to do to you? Let me show you.”

His hand slid to the back of my neck, and although I tried to resist, he pressed his lips passionately against mine. He stole a kiss from me that made me forget
where
and
when
I was. Luckily his hands clutched me tightly against his chest, because my legs were completely useless after this sudden rush. I prayed this moment would never end.

Much too soon, Payton let go of me and pushed me away. He took a step back as if he needed to establish a safe distance. Completely distraught, he ran his hands through his hair.

“I am sorry, Sam. I swear you have nothing to fear from me.” He turned away and shook his head in disbelief over his own actions.

I found it hard to think straight again after that kiss. At least I now knew that he thought of me as his enemy, but that his discomfort had to do with him being drawn to me rather than with him rejecting me. I almost had to grin when I thought about how he must have felt as we rode together. And this explained Sean and Kyle’s strange behavior earlier. They were teasing him because of me!

“Answer me, I beg of you. Can you forgive me for taking advantage of you? I have no idea what got into me. I am so sorry,” he assured me.

I raised my hand to my lips, still feeling his kiss.

“Do you do that often?” I asked quietly.

“Do what?”

“You know what I mean! Kiss girls that are supposed to be your enemy?”

I was grateful that night had fallen and that it was almost dark, because this conversation reminded me of another talk I’d had with Payton—a talk in a different space and time. I was sure he could see my turmoil.

“No, never! Normally I am very sensible and conscientious.”

“Do you think it sensible to kiss a Cameron?” I said.

His words came almost in a whisper.

“No. It’s the least sensible thing I have ever done in my life,” he admitted.

I searched for his eyes, but he held his face turned away from me. To loosen our strange mood, I joked: “I don’t think you’re in any danger from a Cameron right now. You’ve got my dagger, so it would appear that I’m not going to kill too many people in the very near future.”

His laughter sounded lighthearted. “Yes, you’re right. Not in the near future, anyway.”

 

This déjà-vu I was having of another walk by Payton’s side—and during which we’d had a similar discussion—made me laugh. I grabbed the horse’s reins and started walking again. Every single one of my muscles hurt, and I was soaked to the bone from all the rain. I just wanted to arrive at our destination—no matter what might happen to me there. The last few minutes had sparked a realization.

Payton McLean was falling in love with me all over again. The power of this knowledge would carry me through. It would make me forget the strain of this journey and help me find a way to save him. Because something else was becoming obvious. It wouldn’t be so easy to return to my own era. Every mile that we walked also brought me closer to Vanora—and her blood. There was only one possibility now. I had to meet her and somehow get some of her blood. Until that time, I would just continue to get to know Payton the way he once was.

“All right, then, I’m not sorry,” Payton said after we’d walked awhile in silence. He took the reins from me and stopped. “Come on, get on the horse.”

“But I thought it needed a break?”

“I lied. I was the one who needed a break. The temptation of you being so close, and I could just reach out and…but let’s not talk about that. It’s safer with both of us on the horse, trust me.”

I put my foot in his interlocked hands and pulled myself into the saddle.

As he took his seat behind me, I thought I heard him mumbling a quick prayer before spurring on his horse. This time I leaned against his chest because I was truly exhausted. I also really enjoyed the warmth of his body.

“I’m not sorry, either,” I whispered into the dark. And the fact that his arm at my waist pulled me just a little closer told me that he had probably heard me.

C
HAPTER
19

T
he faces of the men and women were lit by a brightly burning fire. Benches had been placed in a circle around the blaze, and a barn housed the dining tables decorated with flower garlands. People were laughing and gathering to dance, and the newlywed couple was being showered with the blessings of well-wishers.

Inside the barn, Payton leaned against a beam and stretched out his legs under the table. The serving tray in front of him was clean but for a few leftover crumbs, and the foam of freshly drawn beer was spilled over the side of his mug. He took a drink.

The wedding party in Kilerac had reacted quickly, generously sharing their feast with the surprise visitors and making room for the two oxen and the horses in one of their stables. When the late arrivals—Payton and Sam—had reached the village a little while later, the rest of their posse was already mingling with the wedding guests.

The young couple had been kind enough to leave their bridal chamber to the injured laird, and so Fingal was lying in one of the small cottages on a bed covered with fresh white linens and decorated with flowers.

No sooner had Payton helped Samantha off his horse than she was called away to tend to Fingal.

Payton seriously contemplated following her to the cottage. But not just because he worried about his father. He pulled the beer mug closer. That little Cameron lass now haunted his thoughts. And to make matters worse, Kyle was approaching with a big grin on his face.


Slàinte mhath,
Brother. So you finally made it, huh?”

“As you can see,” Payton grumbled. He didn’t feel like explaining himself to his little brother.

“What took you so long? You didn’t get lost, did you? Perhaps under the skirts of a lady?”

“Kyle—shut your dirty trap,” was all the youngest received for a reply.

“Or maybe you weren’t well? I had the impression that perhaps you were in some pain,” Kyle continued unblinkingly.

“Good heavens, would somebody please protect me from you and your big mouth?” Payton said. “You had better be quiet, or you will be sorry.”

“Who’s going to be sorry?” Sean asked as he found his way into the barn. He put down his half-full mug and sat with the other two.

“Father is fine. He woke up briefly, asked for whiskey, and is now probably sleeping it off until the morning,” he reported. “But your little prisoner almost went for my throat when I handed Father the whiskey bottle. He was allowed water or hot soup at the most, she said, but then Fingal’s orders to ‘get that pigheaded wench out of his hair’ made her see the error of her ways.”

“She’s pretty feisty, that Cameron woman,” Kyle agreed.

“She only means well,” Payton defended Samantha’s behavior. Immediately, he found himself the butt of their jokes again.

“Watch your tongue, Sean. Payton was about to challenge me to a duel before you came—only because I asked about the wee lass. We don’t want him having to fight the two of us, now do we.” Kyle laughed and pulled Payton’s beer mug closer, which he then proceeded to gulp down in one thirsty swig.

Payton stood up, shaking his head. “You half-wits. That Cameron lass has a lovely bottom that was rubbing up against me all day. That’s all there is to it. And now you had better stop mocking me. Stuff has been building up today, if you know what I mean!”

Followed by Sean’s and Kyle’s roaring laughter, Payton escaped from the barn and stomped round the fire toward the stables. Once there, he found himself a quiet spot and slumped onto a heap of straw.

His brothers’ taunts hit him hard because they came way too close to his true feelings for the pretty prisoner.

He ran his hands through his hair and cursed.
“Bas mallaichte, she was a Cameron!”
She was probably even in league with the cattle thieves. So why couldn’t he get this girl out of his head? In his eyes, she was truly beautiful, even though she was so much skinnier than most other women he knew. But then that dark bruise on her cheek was not exactly attractive. Plus, there were all those scratches she had incurred during her ridiculous attempt to make her escape through the woods. But why then was he seeing her with different eyes? Why had he given in to his desire and kissed her? This could mean trouble for him if his brothers ever found out. While they found it entertaining to tease him about her, they didn’t have an inkling of his true feelings.

“She’s a Cameron, goddammit!” he called into the dark, and a horse’s snort was the lonely reply. He touched his still-painful chin to remind himself who had caused him the injury.

But her hair had smelled so nice, her lovely bottom had almost driven him out of his mind, and—whenever he thought about their kiss—his body reacted in a way that betrayed his strictly rational side.

Kissing her had been the least sensible thing he had ever done. And that would be that. He would not go near the beautiful prisoner again.

 

Deeply absorbed in thought, Payton only noticed the giggling, embracing lovers when their shadows entered the faint glimmer of light in the doorway. He immediately jumped to his feet, noisily clearing his throat to avoid any embarrassment.

The couple quickly separated, and Sean protectively stepped in front of the girl.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, startled at seeing his brother.

“I’m resting after a long day. What you two are doing here”—Payton nodded at the girl—“is fairly obvious. You will excuse me.”

To give them their privacy, he exited the barn. There were lots of happy, laughing people outside. The fire seemed to have attracted everyone, and dancers spun and swirled breathlessly to the sound of the music. After the day’s rain clouds had finally dissipated, this clear and starry night was perfect for love. The newlywed couple had just been talked into giving yet another toast, and everyone was emptying their beer mugs amid wild cheers. As always, Sean never passed up an opportunity when it presented itself, and Payton hoped that the girl’s father did not notice she was missing. Sean’s self-confidence had to be a big reason that the fair sex was always so kindly disposed toward him. One day, or so Payton worried, Sean wouldn’t be able to get out of one of his affairs so easily. But that would not be Payton’s problem.

When he discovered his brother Blair by the fire, he sat down beside him. Blair was much quieter than the rest of the McLean brothers and not really interested in excesses. He never overindulged in drinking, nor did he laugh at other people’s jokes all that often.

“Good party, isn’t it,” he greeted Payton, making room for him on the bench.

“Sean said Father woke up?” Payton immediately changed the subject. Blair was a man of few words and only made conversation to be polite.

“Yes. And right away he got terribly upset about that wench. But she is looking after his well-being, don’t you think? She does not want to harm him?”

Payton shook his head energetically. “No. Don’t worry. She would not harm him.”

“But Ross said she gave you that cut on your chin. Is that true?”

Sheepishly, Payton looked down at the ground. For how long had Ross stood observing them in the woods before making himself known?

“It was my fault,” he replied, shrugging it off. Then he asked, “What, exactly, was her crime? Why did the Stuarts take her prisoner?”

“I am not really sure, because I didn’t follow the whole story. But Cathal seemed really upset. He said that Duncan and Dougal were idiots. They abducted this Cameron woman even though they knew that the peace between the two clans stands on shaky ground. They suspect she knows who is stealing our cattle—or that she is maybe even wrapped up in it herself.”

“Oh, but that’s nonsense. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her, and if there is one thing that she is not, it’s a cattle thief. She cannot even get up on a horse without help.”

Blair nodded. “She certainly does not seem particularly dangerous. But when it comes down to it, that’s none of our business. As Cathal requested, we’ll be taking her away from the borderlands, and I don’t care what his plans are for her afterward.”

Payton stared into space. It was always the same story with Blair. He wondered what kind of a laird his brother would become one day. It was always enough for Blair to bend to Cathal’s views. Of course, the Stuarts and the McLeans had been allies for a number of years, and they had sworn peace to each other under oath. But Payton worried that one day the fate of the McLeans would be decided by Cathal Stuart alone.

Payton was distracted when the door opened to the cottage where Fingal lodged. Three women stepped out and briefly talked to one another before parting ways. Sam was not one of them.

“May I offer you a mug of beer?”

A young woman with shapely hips, wavy blond hair, and freckles all over her face slid onto the bench next to Payton and handed him the mug. “You look all too serious. This is a celebration of happiness. Don’t you want to celebrate with us?”

Payton’s eyes wandered over to the cottage. The door remained closed. He turned to the woman by his side brazenly placing a hand on his knee.

“You are worried about your father, is that right? I am Kelsey, and I could take your mind off things for a while—if you like. I have been watching you all night, and I think it is time to see you laugh.”

“Kelsey, listen, that’s really nice of you, but—”

“No buts! Drink up, and then we will dance! It took all of my courage to come over and speak to you. So you will not get rid of me without at least one little dance.”

Her smile beamed brightly and, even though she was blushing, she firmly held Payton’s gaze.

“All right, Kelsey. One dance it is,” he agreed.

 

I had thanked the women for their help and was now leaning, exhausted, against the door inside the cottage. Alone at last. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Mistress MacQuarrie had been very nice. She had basically taken care of Fingal all by herself and eventually advised me to take off my wet clothes. Because I had nothing else with me, she offered me one of her dresses, which had become too small for her on account of her growing belly.

Full of gratitude, I looked at the simple, dark green dress. It was of much better quality than the one I’d been wearing. The fabric felt smoother and softer, and a braided brown belt gave the whole thing even a touch of elegance.

I poured the last bit of warm water into the washbowl. Because Fingal was fast asleep thanks to the half bottle of whiskey he had polished off earlier, for the first time in days I had something resembling privacy.

I dipped a clean rag into the water and washed my face, my neck, and my arms. Then I unfastened the bow that hung loosely around my waist and listened anxiously for any noise coming from outside. My stomach tightened at the thought of someone entering with me in nothing but my underwear. But I couldn’t hear anything except the music and distant laughter of the partygoers. If I wanted to take a chance, it had to be right now. I reached for my hem with a final glance over at Fingal. He was still sound asleep. As quickly as I could, I slipped out of my housedress and reached for the green one. My heartbeat slowed only once I finished adjusting everything. That threat gone, I felt more courageous. I lifted my skirts and washed my legs.

It was great to finally feel clean again. It wasn’t exactly a nice hot shower, but I had learned to appreciate the little things.

The dress fit me remarkably well. It was softer and even warmer than my other dress, but the neckline was too low for my taste. Especially here, in the company of these uncivilized Scots, I would have preferred a less flashy garment. It didn’t seem to be made for everyday chores but rather for special occasions.

I washed my old dress as best I could and wrung it out with all my strength. With any luck, it would be as good as new in the morning.

My hair, on the other hand, was in terrible shape. It was completely matted and full of knots. I combed it with my fingers as best I could and pleated it into a long, firm braid. Using a thread from the woven belt over my dress, I tied up the end of the braid and was more than happy with the result. I could now pass for a Scottish woman of the eighteenth century.

Thanks to kind Mistress MacQuarrie who had put in a good word for me, I—a prisoner—was now allowed to help myself to the wedding banquet in the barn. If there was anything left of it.

My stomach was very vocal about wanting a good meal, so I opened the door and stepped out into the night. There weren’t as many people in the center of the village as when we first arrived. The celebrations were drawing to a close.

I looked around, unsure of myself, but I didn’t spot anyone from the McLean gang. I walked over to the barn and was glad to see food left on the tables. Ravenous, I broke off a chunk of bread and bit into a big smoked sausage. It was delicious. Happy and content, I slumped onto the bench and enjoyed finally being able to eat a proper meal.

I had just gorged myself on a third sausage when I got the feeling that someone was watching me. I turned around and smiled at seeing Ross leaning against the barn door.

“Hello, Ross. Have you eaten?”

He strolled over and sat down, holding two cups full of dark red wine. Was that adoration I saw in his eyes?

“I almost didn’t recognize you. Did you get all dressed up for me?”

“Why, of course! Just for you,” I teased.

He slid one of the cups to me.


Slàinte mhath!
To us, the unworthy in our group!” he called out while raising his wine.

“Why do you think you’re unworthy?” I asked.

“Bottoms up! You are supposed to toast with me, Samantha. Let’s celebrate.”

It dawned on me that Ross had probably raised a mug or three already. He was in a strange mood.

“Let’s drink! And then we’ll dance before the fiddlers play their last song,” he proposed, knocking over his cup and spilling the rest of his wine on his shirt.

I tried to get up, but he reached for my hand.

“One thing I swear to you, Samantha. I will not allow this Payton McLean to lay his hands on you ever again. I saw everything. I saw how he threw you down on the ground! That brute! But me, I am not like that!” he exclaimed. “I will protect you!”

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