Highland Burn (6 page)

“Long enough.” James pushed off the stall and grabbed a saddle nearby. “We leave for Angus soon. ‘Tis best ye prepare for travel."

A crease appeared across her forehead. “I thought Castle Douglas was yer home?”

“Aye, it is. Archibald, my brother, will stay here to protect it. We head north.” James tipped his chin toward the Highlands.

“The Highlands?”

James blew out a huff. “Aye.”

Abigale followed closely behind as he sat the saddle down next to Fergus’s stall. As he turned around she almost bumped into him. A cold stare sent chills over her skin causing her to take a step back. One look from those eyes made her feel so small, like a wee child.

“But it’s dangerous to travel through the Highlands.” She glanced down at her clasped hands nervously. “We would be much safer here.”

“What’s wrong lass, are ye afraid a rogue Highlander will jump out of the woods to attack ye?”

Abigale didn’t take kindly to being teased. Being a woman and out on her own without the safety of the nunnery walls, she was apprehensive of traveling to the Highlands.

Abigale stood with her hands on her hips. “Ye see my Laird, I’ve only met one Highlander in my life and I’m no impressed." She looked him up and down.

Before she knew what was happening, James had closed the distance between them. Abigale felt giant hands grip her waist as she was pulled against a hard wall of muscle. Confused by his actions, she threw her hands to his chest in protest. She did not realize the repercussions of her actions.

As soon as their bodies connected, she felt his heat radiating off him. Amber eyes swirled leaving her breathless. She felt his cock harden against her stomach and instantly her body burned. He lowered his head. God help her, he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and waited for his kiss, but to her disappointment it never came.

Quickly she was hoisted up by her waist, only to open her eyes to find James setting her down off to the side and out of his way. He walked past her and lifted a bridle off of a hook as if she had no effect on him. “Ye best hold yer tongue, lass. I have no tolerance for it,” he warned her.

Abigale stood dumbfounded. As sure as the sky was blue he was going to kiss her, she knew it. She felt it. Why did he stop?
Did I do something wrong
? She touched her lips and watched him walk over and grab the bridle like nothing had happened. This maddened her to no end. Threats and intimidation would not work on her; they only added fire to her fury. She had spent the last eight years surviving Abbess Margaret’s mercilessness. Now that she was free from her ruthless behavior, Abigale wouldn’t stand for the abuse.

“Is that the way ye Highlanders talk to yer wives?” Abigale bit back. “If so, my Laird, I’m still no impressed.”

James strode in front of Abigale holding her blue stare of ire. “Lass, let’s get one thing straight, I give the orders and ye are to obey.”

Abigale felt her blood boil up to the tips of her ears as she grabbed her skirts to prevent herself from slapping him.

“I didnae want a wife. ‘Tis best ye keep yer distance and do as yer told.” James broke their stare and began to saddle up a mount.

Abigale didn’t know where her courage came from, but this man was not going to get the best of her nor the satisfaction of knowing how furious he made her. Arrogant fool. “I see, my Laird ‘tis best to be seen but not heard. Like a well-trained dog?"

James began to tighten the saddle. “See it as ye wish, just do as yer told.” He brushed her off like an annoying fly buzzing around.

Before Abigale made her way back to Castle Douglas to pack for travel she sauntered next to James so he had to look at her.“Yer an arse, James Douglas.”

James smirked back and gave the saddle strap a good yank. “Now lass, is that any way to talk to yer husband?”

Abigale shot him a disgusted glare. She thought better than to exchange any more words so she turned on her heels and headed toward Castle Douglas to pack.

Chapter 5

A road less traveled…

The announcement that they were going to make camp for the night was music to Abigale’s ears. Keeping up with five mountainous Highlanders as they rode their horses through the Highlands started to wear on her body. Breaks were few, short lived, and the rocky, rough terrain had wreaked havoc on her backside. James, determined to make it at least half way to Angus before nightfall, rode them hard. These men were accustomed to the land and their bodies were built to absorb the brutal beating the Highlands could bring upon a person, but she wasn’t.

It was outlandish and well, plain rude to treat her like one of his men-at-arms. Though never once did she grumble about her discomfort. She rode with grace and kept to herself, but inside Abigale stewed.

I dinnae want a wife
, James’s voice rang through her thoughts. Abigale huffed and rolled her eyes. Did he really think she wanted to marry the Bogeyman? Nay, she was perfectly content back at the nunnery studying to become a surgeon and help heal the sick. Most nights she found herself nose deep in a book, reading up on herbs or looking over notes taken during an observed surgery. As long as she stayed clear of Abbess Margaret, life was, well… predictable, safe.

Who are you fooling, Abigale Bruce?
She scolded herself. The nunnery was not the place she wanted to be. In fact as of late she had grown restless with images of wee bairns running amuck, calling her mother. A mother… just that thought warmed her inside. She wanted a husband to call a friend, a lover who could make her toes curl with one kiss. Aye, she sighed, a family. A family like she had never known. Now that desire seemed to crumble away to nothing more than a wishful dream.
I dinnae want a wife.

The more she pondered the more blame she placed on James. He’d made it perfectly clear she was nothing more than a nuisance… a bump in the road… a thorn in his backside. Well, she would show him who the thorn was, she thought. At this point, she could not decide what burned her arse more, James or the bloody saddle.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” James announced.

Abigale winced when they came to a halt. Dismounting was going to be a challenge; she had no feeling left in her legs.

James hopped down off of his black mare and looked for a place to set up camp while two of his men went to search for wood to build a fire. Abigale noticed how he commanded his men and the way they respected him. A true natural born leader indeed. She respected him for that, but his manners on the other hand, well, not so much.

After she realized she was on her own, Abigale slowly slid off from the saddle onto numb, stinging legs. Pain crept across her face as she steadied herself against Fergus. The white steed turned his head and nudged her with his wet nose as if he asked how she fared. Patting him on his head, she smiled and reassured him that she was fine.

Desperately needing to set up a spot so she could get some rest, she began to untie a rolled up blanket and fur. As she took her first step, her legs buckled. Strong arms caught her from behind before she hit the hard ground.

“Ye alright, lass?” James asked.

“
Are ye alright?”
What kind of question was that? Of course she was not alright; her backside throbbed and her legs stung. She was exhausted, famished, and in desperate need of a bath. Besides she really did not want his help. She would be fine on her own, just like she had been her whole life. Alone.

“I’m fine.” Abigale brushed him off and tried to walk away only to stumble back into his arms.

“Here, let me help. Ye can take my pallet.” Before Abigale could protest, James scooped her up in his strong arms and walked her over to his pallet.

He sat her gently down on soft fur then reached into a satchel and handed her an oatcake. “Here, eat this.”

Taking the oatcake, Abigale eyed him curiously. “Thank ye.”

Abigale ate in silence. Wondering why he was treating her with kindness, she watched him keenly. Walking back to the black mare, he retrieved a waterskin. Oh thank Heavens… water. She was parched.

“Drink this,” James demanded.

Abigale gladly took the skin and drank vigorously. A strong overbearing taste burned her throat and her stomach threatened to lurch. She spat out the amber liquid and coughed.

James smirked. “What’s wrong? Have ye no had whiskey before?”

Abigale shot him a cross glance as she wiped her mouth off on her sleeve. “Nay. ‘Tis awful.”

“’Tis an acquired taste, but trust me it will help.”

After the wretched liquid settled in her stomach, Abigale watched James tend to the fire. Why was he being nice to her? It remained apparent that he had thought nothing of her wellbeing throughout the day and showed no mercy.

She was growing quite fond of this side of James; the caring, gentle side. It made her wonder why he didn’t want a wife. From what she’d viewed, he’d showed kindness, in his own way, she supposed. He was honorable, which she knew, because of his loyalty to her father. However, what could have happened to make this Highland warrior not want to take a wife?

At times he seemed to be far away, deep in thought. Perhaps a love gone bad or had he lost a love? If unlucky in love, she could understand wanting to protect your heart from the pain. Then again, what did she know? She had never been in love. What a mystery this man was to her.

She felt her skin prick and her body warmed. Looking up, her eyes met an amber glare. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. She’d been found out, for James now stood over her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” James stood firm.

Quickly, she looked down into her lap, not wanting to make eye contact. “’Tis nothing.”

“Lass, say what’s on yer mind before ye worry yer bottom lip off.”

Abigale sighed in defeat. She had been told before that she was easy to read. Sister Kate had voiced that many times.
Abigale Bruce, ye wear yer heart on yer sleeve.
Surprisingly, Abigale wished Sister Kate was here now. She needed her words of wisdom, now more than ever.

She looked up at the towering warrior. “Why do ye no want a wife?”

James clenched his jaw as if this question irritated him. “Abigale, get some rest.” He began to walk off toward his horse.

“My Laird, if I may—“

James stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “Nay, ye may not.”

“It’s just… ye’ve been kind and ––“

“Lass, dinnae mistake my concern for yer wellbeing as an act of kindness.” Sternness swept across his face. “I’m no the monster everyone makes me oot to be.”

Abigale knew better than to push the issue, so she let him walk away. She took the skin and sipped; this time the whiskey didn’t taste as bad. Welcoming the warmth of the liquid, she snuggled deep into the furs and lost herself in her thoughts. Sooner or later she would crack open the mystery.

~~~~~

The last purple hue in the sky disappeared beyond the horizon as dusk quickly turned into night. The chattering of night creatures filled the air, a raging fire flickered and crackled in the center of camp. James sat propped up against a weeping willow tree where he’d spent most of the night watching Abigale. It wasn’t long after the second sip of whiskey that her eyelids grew heavy with sleep. Deeply nestled inside the furs, she looked like an angel. Long dark eye lashes rested on her flawless cheeks, her mouth was slightly open, and James could hear her soft breaths. She mesmerized him, enticed him.

Furthermore, he found it quite enjoyable to sit and watch. The vision of Abigale talking to Fergus back at the stables brought a smile to his face. The way her face lit up, the soft touches she gave Fergus, even the way she bit her bottom lip when she was deep in thought captivated him. He cursed silently.
Was he really becoming jealous of a horse?

Abigale sighed, bringing James’s attention back to the beauty sleeping right before him. Soft curves called to him as she nuzzled deeper into the furs. His body ached as he fought the urge to slide under the covers and press his body against hers. His hands twitched with the thought of running them over her breasts, down her stomach and… Before he knew it, he licked his lips.
How sweet she would taste.

He scrubbed his hands down his face like he was trying to erase her from his thoughts. No such luck. With his bastard of a dragon stirring inside, the beast purred in agreement. God’s teeth, he should have claimed her when he had the chance to. Surely it would make his decision to send her away a lot easier.

A rant from Rory grabbed his attention. One last look at Abigale and James made his way to where his men were sitting around the fire. He hadn’t joined his fellow Dragonkine yet. To be honest he didn’t want to hear about the short-heeled wenches they had been with or their recent tavern brawls. Nay, James had other things on his mind.

“I dinnae understand –“

“Understand what?” James interrupted Rory as he approached the site.

“My Laird, I’m afraid Rory has had a wee drop too much mead and is loose with his tongue.” Conall eyed Rory as if telling him to shut it.

“I have nay.” Rory became defensive. “Ye know ‘tis true, humans have their rightful king. Why can’t we have our king?” Rory drained the last of his mead.