To Love and Protect (23 page)

He looked around the small room and decided they needed more wood if they were to survive the night.
 
Justin pulled on his damp and dirty clothing and then his boots.
 
He swung the caldron over the fire once more before shrugging into his coat and exiting the hovel.
 
The wind still blew, swirling the snow into eddies here and there.
 
He walked into the copse of trees and began gathering every stick of wood he could find, large or small.
 
He had to keep Clarissa alive until morning.
 
That her teeth once more chattered, he took as a good sign.

After several trips back and forth with the bundles of wood he accumulated, Justin shut the door once more on the snowstorm swirling to life outside.
 
If he were at his parents’ home in the Highlands, or even in Dumbarton, he and Megan would be anxiously waiting for the storm to die off so they could go outside and play in the snow.
 
They would engage in a snowball fight, even at their advanced ages.
 
Now he just wished it would die off so they could be rescued and he could get Clarissa to safety.
 

He looked at the woman he had been thinking about.
 
She lay curled on her side, shivering.
 
He could tell by the lump, she had pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself into a tight ball.
 
Justin added more fuel to the fire, warding off the chill from having opened and closed the door so much.
 
He then quickly shucked off his boots and clothing once more.
 
He once more went through the process of wrapping her feet in her warmed shift, thanks to the hot water.
 
He stood in front of the fire, warming himself before crawling beneath the covers and pulling her into his arms, her back to his chest.

She turned her head and he watched her sleepy, brown eyes open and looked at him over her shoulder.
 
“Im…improp…proper,” she finally got the single word out, and tried to pull away from him.

“Stop fighting me,” he instructed.
 
He noticed tears leaking out of her eyes.
 
“What’s wrong?”

“Hurt,” she moaned.
 
“Need…needles in my feet,” she said around chattering teeth.

“I know, sweetheart, but it is the only way to get them warm.”
 
He felt her inch back and felt the coldness of her body hit his.
 
She was not as cold as she had been, but she was still not out of the woods.
 
He pulled her tightly against him, trying to give her as much of his warmth as possible.

“So…sorry.”
 
She said softly.
 
She did not cry out anymore, but the tears continued to silently slip down the tip of her nose and onto the blanket.

“Shh,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her upper arm under the blanket.
 
He fought to keep his mind off her nude body lying so close to his.
 
Justin did not know how much time had passed because the little hut had no glass windows, but eventually Clarissa’s chattering teeth became silent, and her breathing became slow and even.
 
Her skin began to feel warm.
 
Finally, confident that she would recover, he fell asleep with her in his arms.

***

Clarissa awoke slowly.
 
She took stock of herself from head to toe.
 
She found she had a slight headache, and her feet hurt.
 
Other than those two things she felt surprisingly well, and toasty.
 
She felt a solid, warm wall behind her and a heavy arm lay over her, pinning her to said wall.
 
She stilled and turned her head, her eyes widened in surprise as they met the blue ones that were looking at her over her shoulder.

“How do you feel?” Justin asked huskily.

“Good,” her voice cracked.
 
Her stomach growled a moment later.

“Hungry?”

“Yes,” she said after clearing her throat.
 

“I’ll get the basket,” Justin threw off the blanket and Clarissa squeaked as she pulled the blankets around her and over her head, but not before catching a brief glimpse of his unclothed, manly figure.

She heard a chuckle, but refused to look out of the tent that she had made.
 
Finally, she heard, “I am decent.
 
You can come out from under there.”
 
She started to throw back the covers when it dawned on her that she, too, wore no clothes.
 
She and Justin had been under the blankets together, nude.
 
She felt a flush spread across her body.
 
“Are you going to come out from under there and eat, or am I going to have to shove the food to you one piece at a time.”
 
Mortified at her circumstances, Clarissa did not know what to do.
 
Only when he said, “Here I come,” did she pop her head out from under the covers.
 

Clarissa took in the man that stood towering above her, his hands fisted on his lean waist.
 
He wore his filthy, but dry shirt and leather breeches.
 
The shirt hung loose, but all buttons, except the top two, were done up.
 
His breeches clung tightly to his legs, outlining their perfect, muscular shape.
 
His feet were encased in woolen socks.
 
Seeing him in his clothing, albeit dirty, just emphasized the fact that she lay in nothing but her birthday suit and a blanket.

“Turn around,” she directed.

“Why?”

“I am going to try to make myself a bit more presentable.”

“You look fine to me, lass,” Justin quipped.

“Turn…around.”

Justin took the time to get fresh water in the little caldron.
 
He had just hung it on the arm when he heard her yelp.
 
He barely reached her in time, catching her just before she hit the floor.
 
“What’s the matter?”

“Feet,” she moaned.

“Here, let’s get you situated, then I’ll have a look at your feet.”
 
He did his best to help her wrap herself in the blanket without exposing any part of her body to his curious gaze.
 
Once he had her settled and the basket placed next to her, he swung the caldron over the fire to begin heating once more.
 
Justin crouched before her and took each foot into his hand for a closer inspection.

“Well?”

“Bruised and several cuts.
 
Some debris is still in the wounds.
 
I will have to wash them out.”
 
He pulled a knife from one of his boots and moved to crouch in front of the fire.
 
He held the knife by its bone handle and let the blade become hot before dunking it in the still slightly cool water causing it to hiss.
 
A small trail of steam danced up the chimney.
 

“What are you doing?”

“Disinfecting the knife.”

“Why?”

“To clean your feet.”
 
He watched as her eyes widened in fear.

“You mean to clean my feet with a...a knife?”

“They are caked with mud and who knows what else.
 
I will have to dig debris out.
 
I want it to be as clean as possible.
 
I tried to wipe them clean earlier, but was more concerned with just getting them warm.”

“I think I’ll just wash them,” she said hesitantly.

“And die of infection?
 
No.
 
I kept you from dying of the cold, I will not lose you because you are afraid of a knife.”

“What gives you the right to tell me what I am and am not going to do?”

“Well, let me see.
 
I’m the one that can walk.
 
I’m the one that can go for help.
 
I wasn’t the one that went wandering about in the middle of nowhere and almost got herself crushed by a giant boulder.
 
Need I go any further?”

“I wish Gertie had never sent for you.”

“That makes two of us,” he muttered as he stood and walked across the hovel, refusing to admit that her words hurt him.
 
He gathered up her petticoat and cut it into several strips, then cut several squares of fabric.
 
They sat in silence waiting for the water to warm.
 
Finally the water warmed enough that he took it off the hook using a folded cloth to protect his hands and sat it beside Clarissa on the floor.

“This will probably hurt,” he warned.

“Just get it over with.”

Justin lifted her foot, cupped some water in his palm and let it trickle over her foot.
 
There were some pebbles imbedded in her foot.
 
“This is going to hurt and I’m sorry I can’t prevent it.”
 
He watched her nod as she bit her lower lip.
 
Several pebbles came free with him merely plucking them loose.
 
One had become embedded, requiring him to use his knife to pry it loose.
 
No sound came from Clarissa indicating her pain.
 
When he looked up though, he could see it clearly on her face.
 
Silent tears trickled down her cheeks and she bit down on her fisted hand that she held to her mouth.

She’s being good about this
, he admitted silently.
 
He repeated the same ritual with the other foot, but this time there were several more pebbles that he had to remove with the knife.
 
He rinsed off the knife and her feet once more before taking the cauldron and throwing the water out the door.
 
He pulled on his boots and walked outside to the brook and refilled the cauldron.
 
He grabbed a couple more logs and entered the hut once more, using his foot to shut the door.
 
He hung the pot over the fire and added logs to the fire.
 
He stood in front of it, warding off the chill.

“It’s snowing?”
 

He heard her question followed by a sniffle.
 
“Has been almost since we entered this hut.”

“I love the snow,” she said wistfully.

Justin used a large portion of the white fabric and dipped it in the warming water.
 
He squeezed the excess water out and wiped her feet once more.
 
Then he wrapped each of them individually with dry strips he tore from her shift.
 
After he finished, he tore a new strip and dipped it into the warm water.
 
With half he cleaned her hands and arms of the mud and dirt caked on them.
 
The other half he used to mop up her tears and clean her dirty face, including a drop of blood that had escaped as she had bit down on her lower lip.

“I’m sorry I had to hurt you.”

“I know,” she whispered.
 
“I’m so tired and cold.”

“Move in front of the fire and lay down.
 
I hope we’ll be rescued in the morning, but you never know how long these storms can last.”

“What time is it?”

“Early evening.”

“It seems so late.”

“You’ve been asleep quite a while, and the shutters keep it darker in here than it is.
 
We picnicked about noon.”

“Oh.”

She scooted in front of the fire and stretched out.
 
In minutes she slept again.
 
Justin took a moment to make sure that both blankets were tucked securely around Clarissa.
 
He watched as she nestled into them and mumbled in her sleep.
 
Moving to the side of the fire, he poked it to life and stared into the flames reliving over and over the boulder rushing towards Clarissa, ready to snuff out her life.
 

***

“No!”
 

The scream jarred Justin from his light sleep.
 
He looked around, startled.
 
Then he saw Clarissa floundering on the floor, fighting against the blankets.
 
He had tucked her in so well that the blankets had effectively trapped her.
 

“Justin!”
 
He crawled over to her, seeing that she still slept deeply, trapped in a nightmare.
 
Justin lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

“Clare, wake up,” he whispered in her ear, gently cupping her face.
 
She fought him.
 
“Clare, stop,” he said sternly.
 
Her eyes shot open, terror etched on her face.
 
He pushed strands of hair away from her face and gently caressed her cheek.
 
They were wet from tears.

“Justin, it was horrible!”
 
She freed her arms, flinging them around his neck.

“What?”

“The boulder.
 
It came towards me, tearing down everything in its path.
 
I screamed for help, but no one was there.
 
It kept coming towards me faster and faster, and I knew I was going to die.
 
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.”

“Shhh, it’s all right and you’re safe.”

“It isn’t all right.
 
After we talked at the picnic and I went for the walk, I...”

“You what?”

“For a few moments, watching that rock racing towards me, I almost wished it would kill me.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned up, causing her arms to fall from around him.

“I was thinking about Papa and everything you said.
 
How you were right.
 
What if he found someone new to replace Lorraine?
 
He doesn’t really need me.
 
He never has.
 
I was ready to give up my future to take care of him.
 
No wonder he fell for Lorraine.
 
I am merely a burden around his neck that he had to bear.”