Page 18 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
Dropping the kindling, Amelie said, “I should have never gone at all.”
“Nay,” Damien stopped her. “It was better that ye had. If that thing had come up on us in the middle of the night, things would have gone much worse. It could have killed any of us before we could react. I’m tellin’ ye, lass, daenae ye worry about it.”
Still unconvinced, she asked. “Ye’re sure?”
“Very,” Damien nodded.
* * *
As they continued their journey, the deep purple of dawn gave way to dull skies. The weak rays of the morning sunshine did nothing to push the chill of the night away, and the constant cold kept Amelie on edge, just as the tension with Damien did.
By midday, they had reached the edge of the forest just outside of Tarradle. They were still on the edge of Stewart lands, skirting the edge of Campbell territory. Ben had fallen asleep on Amelie’s shoulder a few hours ago and though Damien hardly turned to her, Amelie could see the telltale signs of weariness on the side of his strained face.
They reached a plateau and the pace picked up a bit, soon they met an open field a good while later. On the level ground the horse was better able to run and passed through the green meadow, covering miles and miles of barren farmland.
Arriving at the crooked signpost of a village gave Amelie a sigh of relief and as they cantered into a sleepy little town, surrounded by rolling hills, capped with white on three sides.
It was a little farming village with a single lane, meandering through blacksmith shops, cottages and a squat, steepled church. Far off in the distance, she saw the slowly turning wheels of a mill and the hills beyond that she imagined would be covered with sheep in the summer months.
After Damien asked, he was guided to the inn. The place was just a family who opened their home to strangers. It was bare and sparse, built as a wood-framed building that looked weathered and set in its bones.
Damien came around to help Amelie off the cart and she stood on unsteady legs. “Are ye goin’ to stand, lass?”
“Aye, ye go first,” she said, trying not to flinch at the distant, flat tone he spoke with.
They mounted the flat steps, knocked and a lady answered. It did not take them long to arrange for a room, for her and Benjamin, but when Amelie asked about Damien, he said, “I’ll sleep in the barn with the horse.”
His words felt like a physical slap to her face that he would prefer to stay in a cold barn than in the inn with her. The front room, the dining area, was a small sitting room with a few wooden rocking chairs and a single table. They were shown the room with the two narrow beds opposite each other’s.
“Ye’re set then,” Damien said, nodding in approval at the room.
“Damien, are ye sure—”
Then…he was gone. She made to follow him, but Mister McLowe stopped her with a soft rebuke. “Let him go, lass. Trust me, let him go.”
So, she did—though her mind kept flitting to him through the evening and after she slipped into the bed, halfway through the night. The cot was narrower and smaller than she had expected but she curled up on it, anyway, trying to find some comfort in it.
As she was inclined to do, Amelie woke before dawn, grabbed her coat, and slipped away from the room to stretch her cramped legs. She kept thinking how Damien was retreating from her and incessantly worried about what she could do to make it right.
But is it me fault? He was the one who kissed me twice.
Now, she was getting irritated. Why was she taking on the problem when Damien was the one rejecting her, for a reason she did not even know? The more she walked through the mist-dotted grass, the more Amelie grew angry, and it took all her control not to march to the stable and demand that Damien explained himself.
She made it back to the house while the daughter of the household was carrying a meal up to their rooms. To her surprise, washing water was already there and the meal laid out consisted of pewter cups of warm milk, thick hunks of bread and cheese.
Ben was already up, dressed, and greeted her warmly. “Good morn, lass. Went for a stroll, did ye?”
Mustering a smile, Amelie nodded.
“Aye. Me legs were a bit cramped.” To the other girl, she said, “Thank ye.”
“Ye’re welcome, Miss,” the girl dipped her head in acknowledgement before leaving.
Grateful for the water, Amelie washed her face and rinsed her mouth, then went for her portion of the meal.
“How long do ye think it’ll take to get to Dolberry?” While picking at her bread, Amelie asked.
“From what Damien told me, about another three days, give or take,” Ben replied. “If the weather doesnae snow us in, or the river at the boundary of Dolberry lands doesnae swell. Then, we’ll have to take the mountain pass and that will take about four more days. It was the one he took on the way back durin’ the spring when the river had flooded its banks.”
