Tess and the Highlander (8 page)

Her head was bent over the pregnant ewe. She pushed
some oats toward the animal, but Makyn turned her head away. Tess
didn’t seem to have heard much of what Colin had been telling her.
The rain was starting to fall harder again, and the wind was
picking up. The hood of Tess’s cloak was pushed back and her hair
was gleaming from the rain. But despite it all, she was oblivious
to everything but the animal before her.

Colin crouched beside her and pulled the hood over
her hair. He saw the slight tremble of Tess’s chin. “What is wrong
with her?”

“I think she is ready to lamb.”

“Now?”

“’Tis nature’s way.”

The sky overhead opened and buckets of rain started
pouring down. “Isn’t this something they do…on their own?”

She gave a hesitant nod but didn’t move.

“How long before…before she is done?”

Tess shrugged. “It could be minutes, hours, or
days.”

“Well, you are not sitting here and holding her foot
for days.”

As if to contradict him, Tess settled more closely
against the animal and draped her cloak over the ewe. In a moment,
the rain had soaked her dress.

“If ‘tis dying that you wish to inflict on yourself,
then why not just walk to the west cliffs and jump into the
sea.”

“That would be committing a sin,” she whispered
absently, focusing on the sheep.

“Then why not let me walk over there with you, and
I
can push you over the edge.”

“I already know that you won’t do that.” She gave
him a smile that went right to his heart. “Colin, I cannot leave
her here in the middle of this storm. Something is not right with
her.”

Colin considered pulling her to her feet and forcing
her back to the priory house. It was so much easier to play the
bully than to reason with a strong-willed woman. But her simple
comment that she knew he wouldn’t hurt her had touched him deeply.
More than it should have.

Frustrated, he pushed himself to his feet and
glanced around. “Would you be happy if she were settled in some dry
place?”

Her dark eyes looked up at him hopefully.

“I can carry her to that wall where I settled in two
nights ago. ‘Tis fairly well sheltered. I can even make a fire for
her, and bring in some seaweed and spread a dry bed.” Mischief
twinkled in his eyes. “I can even go up into your loft and bring
down one of your wool dresses. Perhaps sing for her…”

“You are making fun of me.” The droplets of rain
shone like jewels on her face.

“I just needed to find out the extent of your
attachment to this animal. I mean, you don’t give a second thought
to sleeping out in a freezing storm, but when it comes to…”

“Helping me to get her to that dry overhang will
do.”

Tess stretched her hand up, and he immediately took
it, pulling her to her feet. Despite all the physical work she did
on the island, he was amazed by the silky softness of her skin. He
let go of her hand abruptly.

Makyn preferred walking to being carried by Colin,
but her steps were slow and wobbly, her head hanging down. Tess ran
ahead of them, and by the time Colin had led the ewe to the
sheltered spot, Tess
had
spread a bed of dry seaweed for the
animal.

“No fire,” she said softly before he could make a
comment. “And I
will
come inside, so long as you don’t
pester me about occasionally coming out to check on Makyn.”

Colin controlled his urge to say anything, and
instead simply nodded agreeably.

Makyn settled down on the bedding, but continued to
show little interest in what was going on around her. The wind and
rain were picking up in intensity. As time passed by, Colin could
see that cold was having its effect on Tess. Crouching beside the
sheep, she was beginning to shiver again.

“You promised to come inside.”

Tess nodded and stood up. She must have risen too
fast, for Colin saw her put out a hand to stop herself from falling
forward. As he instinctively reached out to steady her, another
instinct—that of pulling her into his arms and kissing her
lips—suddenly blocked out all rational thoughts.

She was looking up at him, innocent and vulnerable,
and then her eyes widened. As much as he wanted to kiss her now, he
hesitated. Then the realization that taking advantage of her in
this situation would be a mistake poured through his body like icy
water. His hands immediately dropped to his sides. Without uttering
another word, he turned and strode quickly away and across the moor
toward the rocky cliffs overlooking the sea.

He had felt his body respond to women before, but
there was something in his attraction to this island lass that was
so different. He had never been faced with such aggravating
thoughts of right and wrong. It was only a kiss he wanted. Only a
kiss, he repeated to himself. So why was it, then, that confusion
and guilt were churning about inside of him?

He reached the rocky bluffs and stared out at the
rolling sea. Suddenly, the weather around him couldn’t even compete
with the turbulence of his mood.

When had wooing lasses become so blasted
difficult?

What was wrong with her?

One minute, Tess was startled by the intensity she
could see in Colin’s face. The next minute—as she watched him walk
away—more than anything in the world she wanted his powerful arms
around her again. She realized she actually
wanted
the
fluttering in her stomach back.

All of the questions about living alone—questions
that she’d allowed herself to ignore—were now rearing up defiantly
before her. Even the sense of security that she’d created in her
own mind had been shattered, swept away in two short days. And all
she could feel now was a jagged and dangerous edge.

Colin Macpherson had upended her life, and now he
had the nerve to walk out into the storm.

Tess went inside and changed into dry clothing. In a
few minutes, she came out and looked at Makyn, who hadn’t moved.
There was no sign of Colin. Going in again, she spent some time in
the loft area beneath the roof. Restless, she went down and sat by
the fire, carding wool. But she could not sit for long and went out
again. And then back in. And then out yet again. Still no sign of
Colin.

She considered going after him—but then decided
against it. As the daylight faded into dusk, the wind continued to
blow, but without the sense of purpose it had earlier. Even the
frothy sea seemed to be extending farther and farther to the
horizon.

The thought of Colin going away without telling
her…or saying goodbye…started as a cold white point in her head and
grew steadily until it was a torment for her. There were no boats,
however, left on the island. Not long after Garth died, his small
currach had been battered to splinters during a winter storm when
the waves had crashed it against the rocks. It hadn’t mattered to
Tess at the time, and she was glad of it now. But that didn’t mean
other boats from the mainland were not already out on the sea. At
any time, one could see Colin on the shoreline and carry him back
with them. But if this was to be their fate—never to see each other
again—then she was as helpless about it as she was about everything
else in her life.

It was well after dark when she finally heard him
coming up the steps. Checking the thick braid she’d made of her
hair, she hurriedly tucked an unruly tendril behind her ear. She
glanced down at her tattered dress and wished she had something
better to change into. The excitement surging through Tess was
unmatched by anything she remembered experiencing ever before.

Colin was wet through, and he looked extremely tired
when he stalked into the firelit chamber.

To keep herself from going to him, she crouched
before the hearth, lifted a cauldron onto the iron arm that
extended out from the wall, and swung the pot over the fire.

“I thought perhaps you’d decided to take a chance on
the sea,” she said. “’Tis only a few leagues to the mainland. Not a
bad swim, I shouldn’t think.”

Tess smiled over her shoulder at him and tried to
pretend that nothing was amiss. He walked toward his bedding, and
Tess ignored the crunch of the seashells beneath his boots.

“I cannot say I didn’t consider it.”

His admission stung a little, but she swallowed the
knot of disappointment and turned her attention on the steaming
broth. “It must be the food that is keeping you here, then.”

“Nay! ‘Tis these bloody shells. I’m growing quite
fond of the things.”

Tess glanced over her shoulder, but her retort
caught in her throat. With his back to her, Colin was pulling his
wet shirt over his head. He turned abruptly and caught her looking
at him.

“I…” Tess knew her face was betraying the heat that
had suddenly come over her. She looked quickly away and gestured to
the ladder. “There is…I mean, Garth had a good shirt if you want a
dry one.”

“This blanket will do.” His voice was low and
hoarse, but she couldn’t trust herself to look at him again.

“I made some broth. And there is more smoked fish.
There is also some dried bread. It doesn’t taste too bad with the
broth, and—”

“Have you eaten?”

She nodded.

“You don’t need to serve me, Tess. Why don’t you go
about doing what you usually do at night? I’ll take care of
myself.”

As he came near the hearth, she moved skittishly
across the chamber. She sat on her bedding and leaned back against
the cold wall. Picking up a small sack of shells from the floor,
she poured them out on her lap. She had already punched a hole in
each carefully selected shell with an awl, and she now began
stringing them onto a strand of leather. She watched him dip a bowl
into the broth.

Colin had thrown a blanket over his shoulder. But
she still managed to glimpse his bare chest every now and then.
Tess felt delightfully wicked.

“So what do you do with all of these?”

She knew he was talking about the shells. “I make
them into…things.”

“What kinds of things?”

She shrugged. “Bonny things.”

“Then why haven’t I seen you wear them?”

Tess watched him pick up the bowl of broth and a
chunk of dried bread and move back toward his bedding across the
room. The blanket fell off one shoulder, but to her disappointment
he caught it and pulled it back on.

“Because they are impractical to wear.”

“If they’re impractical, then why do you make
them?”

“Because I like to collect them…and look at them.”
She pointed to the strands of shells hanging from the beams
overhead. “And I like to collect them because I walk on the beach
looking for things. And I look for things because you never know
what treasure you might find.”

“Or what trouble,” he muttered, lowering himself
onto his bed. He nearly sat down on the gift she’d left him. “What
have we here?” He picked up the wooden flute.

“’Tis a cuisle, of course. I found it years ago
washed up on the rocks.” She saw him manage to juggle everything in
his hand as he sat back and leaned against the wall, facing
her.

“I can see that. Do you know how to play it?”

She shook her head. “Whenever I blow in it…there is
this horrible noise that comes out of it. Neither Garth nor
Charlotte could get it to play any music, either.”

“But you’ve heard other people play it before?”

She hesitantly nodded. “I have these vague memories
of a child sneaking out of her bedchamber and creeping down some
ancient stairs to listen to traveling musicians. There was singing
and dancing and…” Tess stopped abruptly, shocked that how real the
images suddenly seemed.

She looked down at the pile of shells in her lap and
tried to blink back the sudden tears that the memory triggered. But
she had no past. For so long she had remembered so little of her
life prior to the day that the sea had tossed her up onto these
rocky shores.

“Would you like me to play this for you?”

Tess nodded and quickly dashed away a tear as he
laid the food aside and brought the pipe to his lips.

After testing it a few times, Colin began to play a
melody so hauntingly lonely and yet so soothing, too. It was a song
that seemed so familiar to Tess, like it was a part of her. A part
of her childhood, she thought. The notes filled the space between
them. The air vibrated with the feeling Colin poured into the
music. Tess saw him close his eyes. His fingers and lips and
breaths seemed to be drawing out the very secrets of his heart.

She let the string of shells drop into her lap. In
her mind’s eye she could see a solitary tree, stunted and bent,
braced against the wind. Beside it, she saw herself alone on this
isle, trying desperately to remember his face, the feel of his
touch…this melody…for the long time when he would be gone. Then,
Tess also thought of
his
loneliness in being separated from
the people that he loved.

When the song was finished, he played another, and
another…and another after that. After playing for a while, he
stopped and laid the instrument down.

As the notes faded, Tess dashed away a tear. “You
play beautifully.”

“This is an old and very special instrument.”

“I want you to have it.” When he started shaking his
head, she pressed him. “You’ve given me the gift of hearing music
again. Please!”

“Thank you. But is there anything I can do…well…?”
His words trailed off.

Before I go
,
Tess
thought, finishing his unspoken words. He
was
going, she
reminded herself. Soon.

“You already have,” she whispered, lowering her gaze
to the shells lying in her lap.

The aching sadness gathering within her was growing
more painful by the minute. She had lost people whom she cared for
before. She’d had to learn to adjust and rely only on herself. But
this time, with Colin, she knew she would feel something even more
than anything she’d felt when Charlotte and Garth had passed on.
They were old and it was their time. Tess knew deep inside of her
that this loss would cut her very badly.