Page 20 of Scot of Deception
The farrier looked around, then shrugged a shoulder. “Ye have one right there, dinnae ye?”
Blaine glanced back to his own horse, frowning. “Ye want us tae ride all the way tae Castle Stalker on one horse?”
“Castle Stalker isnae that far an’ ye have a fine horse there,” said the farrier. “It’ll take ye where ye need tae go. Otherwise ye can stay here until the lassie’s healed.”
Kathleen could see a small vein appear in Blaine’s forehead. She could see the clench of his jaw, the muscle there tightening. He didn’t like the idea of the two of them riding together, and she began to wonder if he had, after all, noticed her awkwardness and had simply decided not to mention it.
If that was the case, she should be grateful for it, but she found no real comfort in the thought.
“Fine,” said Blaine through gritted teeth and then proceeded to take a few coins from Kathleen’s hand, stepping over to the farrier and handing them to him. “Take good care o’ the horse. We’ll be back fer it in a week or so.”
The farrier tipped his head in a small bow and Blaine pulledKathleen away, whispering in her ear. “Never reveal how much gold ye have on ye. Did nay one teach ye that?”
With a frown, Kathleen quickly shoved the coins back in her purse. “I never had tae worry about such things.”
“O’ course ye didnae,” Blaine mumbled, so low that Kathleen figured he must have been speaking to himself. “Well, ye ken better now. I’ll go fill the waterskins. Ye go an’ find somethin’ fer us tae eat, an’ then we’ll be on our way.”
“So soon?” asked Kathleen in the hopes that she could spend some time in the market, at least. “We havenae seen anythin’ yet!”
“Dae ye wish tae see the village or go tae yer friend’s weddin’?” Blaine asked, and that was enough to convince Kathleen to hurry up. Just as she parted ways with Blaine, heading back to the market while he continued towards the other side of the town in search of water, he called back to her, “Be careful. An’ dinnae trust anyone.”
Kathleen didn’t need to be told twice. Ever since her brush with the Campbell soldiers, she didn’t think she could trust anyone else again.
CHAPTER TEN
The sun hung low in the sky, bathing the path in a blazing orange glow. The thick morning clouds had parted enough to let some sunlight in in the last few hours of the day, though now that the sun was setting, it was getting colder, Kathleen had enjoyed the time in the warmth of the sun rays.
She had even gotten used to her proximity to Blaine, though she wished the man would be a little more talkative. Throughout the entire ride, they had hardly exchanged a word, which only served to heighten Kathleen’s awkwardness and reinforce the seemingly ceaseless influx of thoughts about the two of them together. In the silence, she had lost herself in her daydreams, thinking about Blaine leaning closer on the saddle, embracing her properly, pressing a tender kiss to her neck where she could already feel his breath. The mere thought was enough to ignite a fire under her skin, to make the blood in her veins feel like liquid fire, burning her up from the inside, but she hoped the only visible sign of it wasthe soft flush of her cheeks, which Blaine couldn’t even see from where he sat behind her.
She did her best to ignore the feeling in her core, the pressure that built there. She had ignored it before; she could ignore it again.
“Shall we rest here fer the night?” Blaine asked, pointing at a small building in the distance, tucked behind some trees, down a path that diverged from the main road. There was no light coming out through the windows—no signs of life. It seemed like an abandoned hut, but Kathleen was still reluctant to agree.
“Can we?” she asked. “It must belong tae someone.”
“Whoever owns it hasnae been there fer a long time,” said Blaine and as they approached and Kathleen could take a better look at the hut, she could only imagine he was right. The building was in bad shape, with planks of wood missing and a part of the roof threatening to cave in. It must have served as a hunting lodge sometime in the past, but now it stood there, empty and devoid of life.
Still, it was better than camping out in the woods. This way, they would at least have some protection from the elements and from any brigands who could approach.
Once they reached the hut, Kathleen headed inside, looking around in the dim light of the sunset. The place was sparsely furnished—there was no bed, not even a mattress they could use, but there was an old, rickety table covered in dust and a few chairs around it, some missing a leg. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room and a small pile of wood rested by the fireplace, which was filled with ash.
It seemed that whoever owned this place had planned on returning but never had.
I wonder who it was. I wonder what kept them away.
With a sigh, Kathleen crouched by the stack of wood, observing it much like she would observe a puzzle. She had never lit a fire before, but she had watched other people do it, including Blaine, and it hadn’t seemed so hard to her. There was even a tin box of flint on the little shelf on the fireplace, and Kathleen reached for it—only for Blaine to suddenly appear behind her, his hand reaching for the box at the same time.
The tips of their fingers brushed for the briefest of moments. Time seemed to stretch, though, and that one moment lingered in the tingling sensation at the tip of Kathleen’s finger, in the soft gasp she drew, in the still air between them. Kathleen hadn’t even heard him approach, nor did she expect him to come so close without the constraints of sharing a single saddle—close enough for her to see the flecks of goldin his green eyes and the small, silver scar right above his cupid’s bow when she turned to glance at him in surprise.
“Allow me,” Blaine said, clearing his throat as he took the tin box and stepped back before Kathleen could say a word. She felt as though she was moving through honey, the world around her turning slow and stagnant. And then, the spell was broken and she was pulled back into herself, watching as Blaine grabbed some logs and arranged them in the fireplace.
No more words were exchanged between them. Kathleen quickly stepped back, letting him work on the fire and averting her gaze. She didn’t know what to do with herself, but she didn’t want to linger around him too long either, fearful of what she would do or say if she did.
Instead, she busied herself with the table. There was nothing remarkable about it, save for how thick the layer of dust draped on its surface was. Slowly, deliberately, she dragged a finger over it, gathering some of it and watching the clean line her finger left behind.
A part of her wished she had never let Blaine follow her. It would have been so much simpler, traveling on her own without any of these concerns. But had it not been for him, she wouldn’t have made it past the first few hours, and now that Sorrel was injured, she would have never made it to Castle Stalker even if she had managed to avoid the Campbell soldiers.
There was nothing at that table or in the room to keep her attention and give her a plausible reason to appear busy, so Kathleen reached for her bag instead, where she had put the food she had purchased for her and Blaine at the market. She was not yet hungry, but it would give her something to do while Blaine lit the fire and she wouldn’t have to stand there and watch him awkwardly, desperately hoping that he would say something to break the silence or at least respond to one of her many questions.
