My Highlander: A Cree & Dawn Novel, page 16
“I was, though I paid her little heed. It did not concern me.”
“When you took your leave that morning, did you pass by the stocks?”
“I did.”
“Did you see anything that gave you pause?” Cree asked.
His brow wrinkled as he pondered the question, then he gave a slight nod. “A moving shadow caught my eye in the dark spots that hugs the night, but it was not my concern.”
That the man had caught a moving shadow in the darkness told Cree that there was more to this man than he wanted anyone to know. The ability to detect a shadow among night shadows was a skill attributed to seasoned warriors.
“Anything you can tell me about this shadow?”
“It was quick. All I caught was a hasty glimpse of the hem of a cloak.”
That was more than Cree expected and most importantly it gave him someplace to start… a cloaked person lingering in the shadows, perhaps waiting for the perfect time to attack Ann.
“A worn cloak, the hem ragged,” the man added.
That gave Cree even more pause. He had made sure worn garments were a thing of the past when he took over the title of the clan and land.
“The woman in the stocks, Ann, looked well to you when you passed by her?” Cree asked.
The man turned his eyes to the sky. “She was looking up. I assumed she was waiting to see the sun rise and her punishment to be over.”
“You knew her punishment was to come to an end that day?”
The man lowered and turned his head to Cree. “There are few secrets in a village. Tongues keep busy minding other peoples’ lives.”
“What else did you hear?”
“Nothing I paid mind to.”
“Nothing that might help me to find out who attempted to kill Ann?” Cree watched for the man’s reaction to the news of the attempted murder, but he showed no trace of one.
“I told you what I know, my lord. I have nothing more to offer you.”
Cree disagreed. He had another question for the man. “Why would you only speak to me?”
“I do not trust another to repeat my words correctly. They have a way of getting twisted when others speak for you.”
Cree wondered over the man’s distrust. Had someone betrayed him, had spoken his words incorrectly on purpose? Could it have caused him to be accused of something? Something he now hid from? The reason for the shackle on his wrist?
“If that is all, my lord, I would like to be on my way.”
Cree had studied the man as they had talked. His full beard hid a good portion of his face and his long dark hair fell loose along the sides concealing his face even more. His layers of garments gave the impression of a thick man beneath, but it was difficult to tell. He was hiding from something and well before he arrived at the Village Dowell.
One other thing that made Cree believe the man had nothing to do with the stabbing was that a man of his size would need only one thrust to see the chore finished. It would be deep and it would be fatal.
“We are finished,” Cree said, dismissing him and with a brief nod the man turned and walked away.
Cree wanted nothing more than to leave for home right away. But they had stopped only once for a brief repast and rest. The men and horses needed more rest and food before returning.
“Set a fire burning, we eat and rest,” Cree ordered and while not one of his warriors would have complained if he had ordered their immediate return home, he could see the relief on their tired faces.
He, however, had a reason to return as soon as possible. He wanted to make love with his wife. They may have been reunited when she returned home, but joining with her, feeling as if they became one was a true reunion and besides, he had missed making love with her terribly. He never felt as whole, as alive, as loved as he did when they made love. It was a bonding that went beyond the norm and deep down into their souls.
He had never thought that way before when he had joined with other women. He had coupled to satisfy a need. That was not the way with Dawn. The need was there, but it was different and it had taken him a while to understand it, though more to admit it. Admit that he had fallen in love with a voiceless woman. But then Dawn had never truly been voiceless. She might not have a voice people could hear, but she certainly made herself heard.
He was proud of her, proud to call her wife, proud she belonged to him and always would. His thoughts had stirred his needs and he decided to rest along with his men, since he would set a good pace home and once there, he would seek his bed, though not to sleep.
Dawn sat with Lila outside her cottage in a patch of grass while their children played. She kept a watchful eye on Lizbeth as did Beast from where he laid beside Dawn. Where she had ordered him with a firm hand and a look to stay put, since she did not trust him from surrendering to the whims of her daughter.
The sky was a bit overcast, the warmth having vanished with the sun that had shined for barely an hour earlier in the morn. Still, it was a pleasant day to be outdoors and for the children to have time to play.
“You have avoided talking about it and you always talk with me when something troubles you,” Lila said.
Dawn’s chest heaved in a sigh, grateful to her friend for recognizing her need.
“It must not have been easy for you,” Lila said. “But then you are a brave one. I remember being so frightened for you when Colum sent you to tend Cree in that small hut when he arrived here as a prisoner. I thought for sure he would harm you.”
Dawn smiled, recalling her short time spent there with Cree, and gestured.
Lila smiled as she spoke her friend’s response. “They are better memories than expected.” She reached out to lay a comforting hand on Dawn’s arm. “Cree loves you beyond measure. There is nothing that should worry you unless… you are not with child, are you?”
Dawn looked appalled as she shook her head.
“I do not mean to upset you, but you did say you woke naked in that man’s arms and you only have the word of women, who you know not at all, and who supposedly tended you. So how can you be sure?”
Dawn rested her hand on her stomach and shook her head firmly.
“You have bled since arriving home?” Lila asked.
Dawn shook her head and moved her fingers as if walking.
“On your journey home?”
Dawn nodded.
Tears collected in Lila’s eyes. “I do not know where you get the strength. You are so brave.”
Dawn gestured.
“You say what choice do you have, but you have done things many women would dare not do, would be far too frightened to do… me being one of them.”
The children squealed in laughter drawing theirs and Beast’s attention, his large head shooting up to stare at them.
“He watches over you and the twins. It is good you have him.” Lila’s eyes rounded. “This man… he would not follow after Beast would he?”
Dawn’s eyes widened as well.
“You have thought the same,” Lila said and Dawn nodded. “Is that what worries you, that he will come here one day?”
Dawn tapped at her temple.
“You have thought on it. I do not see how you could not give it thought. The man might believe you robbed him of his dog, giving him an excuse to track you down.”
Dawn’s head drooped as if the weight of it all was too much.
Lila squeezed her arm. “I am sorry. My tongue speaks before I think.”
Dawn shook her head, then tapped her lips, pointed to Lila and rested her hand to her chest.
“I do speak from the heart to you, but it does not always help.”
Dawn nodded and patted her chest.
“You are being kind saying it does help just as you always have when my mouth says too much.”
Dawn smiled.
“You did say this man had an important matter to take care of, so he probably will not waste time tracking down his dog,” Lila said, trying to reassure her friend.
Dawn nodded, appearing to agree but not sure if she did.
“But if he does show up…” Lila words trailed off as she swallowed hard. “He will face the mighty Cree.”
It was late, the light just fading, everyone asleep except for the sentinels posted throughout the village.
Dawn stood on the top step of the keep, her shawl wrapped around her, warding off the chill as she looked in the distance, hoping to see her husband. She had grown impatient waiting in their bedchamber, not a bit tired, eager for her husband’s return.
She turned to go back inside and stopped. She did not want to return to an empty bedchamber or to sit in the silence of the Great Hall. Beast was not with her, having gone as he did every night to sleep near the twins.
The fast encroaching darkness gave her no pause as she descended the steps and entered the village and even though the darkness seemed to fall faster with each step she took, it caused her no fear. More sentinels had been posted and having seen warriors linger in her steps every time she left the keep, she had no doubt her husband had ordered her watched.
She headed toward the healing cottage. Lucerne had been helping Elsa throughout the day, but in the evening Elsa would stay and look after Ann, even if there was little she could do for her.
Dawn was drawn to a halt a few steps from the healing cottage, by the flash of a dark shadow in the darkness. She stared at the spot she had seen it, a dark swirl of sorts, and seeing nothing, she questioned if she had seen anything at all.
A chill settled around her and the night suddenly took on an ominous feel, making her hurry her steps to the cottage door. She rapped softly on it, thinking perhaps it had been foolish of her to come here so late.
The door opened slowly and Elsa’s head peered from around it.
“Dawn, whatever at you doing here? Are you not feeling well?” Her eyes turned wide. “Forgive me, my lady, for addressing you improperly.”
Dawn shook her head and waved her apology away, then patted her chest and smiled to let Elsa know she was fine.
Elsa opened the door and waved her hand. “Please, my lady, come in.”
Dawn wished Elsa would call her by her name, at least when they were alone as Lila did, but she had not been successful in convincing her.
Dawn pointed to Ann.
“She wakes, takes some broth, and sleeps again.”
Dawn tapped her chest.
“Aye, much like you did after returning home,” Elsa said.
Dawn pressed her hand to her brow.
“No fever so far and her wounds show no signs of turning putrid, but it has not been that long since the attack.” Elsa looked to Ann. “She has a fight ahead of her.”
Dawn pointed to Elsa and shrugged.
“How am I?”
Dawn nodded.
“Worried for her,” Elsa said with a nod to Ann.
Dawn placed her hands together as in prayer and rested them to her cheek.
“I am used to little sleep. Besides, I cannot sleep knowing Ann fights to live.”
Dawn patted her chest and pointed to the chair.
Elsa turned a soft smile on Dawn. “I appreciate your offer to sit with Ann, but you still heal yourself,” —Elsa held her hand up when Dawn attempted to protest— “Your husband would not be pleased with me if I allowed it this late at night.”
Dawn could not argue with that and she did not want to cause Elsa anymore worry.
“Tomorrow you can sit with Ann while I see to tending to some things,” Elsa offered.
Dawn nodded and went to the door, leaving Elsa to return to the chair by the bed where Ann lay sleeping.
With nothing left for her to do, Dawn returned to the keep, her eyes watchful for any moving shadows. Once in the keep, she questioned if perhaps her eyes had played tricks on her. Or perhaps the night shadows had played tricks on her.
She recalled the many times on her journey home that she had thought she had seen something moving in the darkness of the night. After a while, she had realized that if Beast did not stir, then there was nothing to worry about.
Still, sleep had not come easy and she had avoided well-worn roads frequently traveled for they were treacherous for a woman traveling alone. It had added time to her return home, but if she had not taken precautions she may have never made it home.
Dawn sat at a table near the burning hearth. A night chill had swept over the land and the warmth of the keep was welcoming. After another yawn surfaced, she lowered her head on her folded arms resting on the table and was soon asleep.
Cree handed the reins of his horse to one of his warriors and headed up the steps to the keep. He was bone tired, something he did not want to admit. He had pushed his warriors and himself to get home, and not a one of them had complained. They had been in more battles than most and finally having a permanent place to rest their heads, a place that welcomed—a home—none wanted to be gone long from it… he being one of them.
He had thought of nothing but making love to his wife, but with the lateness of the night, he knew he would find her sleeping and he would not wake her. She might argue, but she needed her rest.
He rolled his shoulders, easing the ache between them, then rolled his neck to ease the ache there as well. He was brought to a stop at the sight of his wife, sitting at a table near the hearth, her head pillowed on her folded arms that rested on the table.
She had waited for him and it warmed his heart.
He went over to her and eased her dark red hair away from her face. She slept peacefully, content and safe, and he intended to keep her that way. He lifted her gently in his arms, reminded of the weight she had lost and thought how she needed to eat more, but right now, she needed to sleep.
He carried her slowly up the stairs to their bedchamber, cherishing the feel of her in his arms, tucked against him, her hair tickling at his nose. He would wrap himself around her once in bed, but wanted to linger in this moment and enjoy the simple pleasure it brought him.
He laid her on the bed and quickly shed his garments, then ever so carefully and gently he began to disrobe her. He lifted and shifted her around with tender care, doing his best not to wake her. Or did he hope he would?
He ran his hand down her naked arm when it was free of the sleeve and lingered in the soft feel of her. How many nights had he dreamt of doing just that, feeling her silky skin as if she was real and lying there beside him in bed only to wake and feel the punishing ache of discovering yet again that she was gone?
No more though, she was here and real and warm and so very soft.
Once he discarded the last of her garments to the floor, he stared down at her and reveled in her beauty. Her stomach was as flat as it had been before she had the twins and he could not help but think of her growing round with child once again.
The urge to plant his seed deep inside her grew along with his manhood.
“Mine. Always mine,” he whispered, whishing she was awake, wishing he could make love to her repeatedly. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Another day.
He opened his eyes, ready to drop down in bed next to her, take her in his arms, and attempted to sleep.
He found himself staring at his wife, her eyes open and her arms spread out to him.
Chapter 17
Cree dropped down over her and as her arms circled him, he rolled to his side, his arms going around her and taking her with him. His hand drifted in a soft caress down her back, rediscovering the feel of her and possessively reclaiming every inch of her. When he reached her backside, he gave it a firm squeeze and adjusted her to fit snug against his hard manhood.
He continued to stroke her slowly, her arm, her waist, the curve of her hip.
“I have missed this, you here, naked in bed beside me, pressed against me,” —he eased his hand between her legs, slipping his finger inside her— “wet an eager to have me inside you.”
He could almost hear her silent gasp and felt her head nod against his shoulder and that she let him know she felt the same only fired his passion more.
She reached down and tried to move his hand away, worried it would be over too fast if he continued to tease her.
“No, wife,” he whispered in her ear, then nipped playfully at the lobe. “I will make you come more than once this night.”
Dawn nodded as she turned her head away from his shoulder to smile at him while her hand wasted no time in taking hold of his manhood.
“It is a challenge you want,” he said with a rumble of low laughter as he pushed her onto her back with the weight of his body. “And a challenge you will lose for I will see you pleased again and again and again before I seek my own release.”
Dawn released his manhood, reluctantly. She loved the feel of him, big and powerful, in her hand and yet vulnerable to her touch, her command, until he had no choice but to surrender, something not easy for Cree. But then he had had no choice when it came to love.
She rested her hand to his cheek and mouthed, I love you, always.
“I have said it many times before and will continue to say it, especially since I thought I would never hear you say it again, that I will never grow tired of hearing you tell me that you love me.”
He settled his mouth on hers in a kiss that left no room to his intentions. He wanted her to know he intended to possess her, make her his, leave his mark so that there would never be a fraction of a doubt that she belonged to him and always would.
Between the kiss and the way his fingers pleasured her, Dawn felt herself much too close to climax. She wanted this time, this night to last, but then she recalled his words… I will see you pleased again and again and again.
And she let go.
Cree felt her climax shatter her body and he lifted his head, ending the kiss, to watch his wife toss her head back, her eyes tighten shut, her mouth drop open in a silent scream, and her hand grip his arm tightly as pleasure rocked her body.
As sanity returned to Dawn, passion still lingered on the fringes, and she smiled realizing why when she felt her husband’s mouth at her breast teasing her nipple with his tongue and felt his manhood rubbing between her legs, not allowing the ember of passion that still burned in her to die.
