Page 35 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
“I would never reveal anything that would jeopardize your clan,” she said softly.
He didn’t answer, and she got a faint tingle of premonition, as if there was another reason he was being so vague with her. She studied him closely as if she could read something in his expression—but she was only kidding herself. He might as well be wearing a mask.
“Mistress Catherine!”
Finn came racing down the path from the cave and skidded to a halt when he saw Duncan. The boy’s blue eyes, momentarily full of excitement, now shuttered as he murmured, “Beggin’ yer pardon, yer lairdship.”
“No apology necessary,” Duncan said, leading his own horse into the paddock.
“We’ll unsaddle him for you.” Catherine stepped forward to take the reins. “It’ll be a good lesson for Finn. Riding a horse can be fun, but taking care of the animal is an important obligation.”
Duncan didn’t release the reins immediately.
“Do you not trust me to see to your prized possession?” she teased in a quiet voice.
“My horse is far more important than that,” he said, then let go of the reins. “I trust ye.”
Was she supposed to thank him for the great honor? she thought wryly. But perhaps it was an honor to him—his horse was his constant companion, his means of transport. So instead of smiling, she simply nodded.
“I think I should take the saddle off,” he began.
“No. We can take care of it.”
He arched a brow. “Call one of the men if you have need.”
“We won’t, but thank you.”
Duncan turned and walked out of the paddock. Finn didn’t move, but Catherine thought he shrank into himself when the chief walked by. Duncan had rescued him, had proven himself—why was Finn still so afraid?
Once Duncan was out of sight, Catherine gestured for Finn to come closer. The little boy stared up at the massive horse, wide-eyed.
“He won’t hurt you,” she said.
“He might step on me by accident,” Finn insisted.
Some of the bad things that had happened to Finn hadn’t been deliberate, but he’d been wounded anyway. She didn’t blame him for being cautious.
“Do you want to sit on his back before we remove the saddle?”
“Nay!” He gasped and backed away.
“I won’t force you. It’s your choice. But come closer so I don’t have to shout.”
For at least an hour, she talked about horses, their equipment and care. Finn never seemed bored, but more than once he gave her a glance that seemed skeptical.
“Go ahead and ask whatever’s on your mind,” she said patiently.
“Well, ye’re a lady,” Finn said with solemn logic. “Ye must have had servants. But ye know all about horses.”
“If you’re going to ride one, you need to be able to care for it when you’re traveling.”
Suddenly, she had a flash of memory, saw a chestnut horse in a fine stable and felt a deep love for the animal as she’d tended it. And then it was gone, and she was left to wonder if that had been her first glimpse of her old life. She wanted to be excited and hopeful—maybe her memories would return after all—but she also felt the deep sadness of knowing that if the memory had truly been her old horse, that horse had suffered in the fall down the ravine and been put out of its misery.
She comforted herself by teaching Finn what she knew. Perhaps she could instill a love of horses in the boy, so that he could find pride in being accomplished—and it would give him something to do besides sit apart from everyone else and brood.
For a few moments, Duncan watched Catriona and Finn. Studying her seemed like all he wanted to do lately. She offered gentle kindness to the boy, and Duncan couldn’t understand her easy temperament. She’d come from a terrible father, a man who profited off selling innocent children.
For all Duncan knew, losing her memory had changed Catriona’s entire personality. She was the wealthy, pampered daughter of an earl, and if she knew what Duncan was doing to her, she’d hate him. He had to remind himself at all times that they were enemies.
