Page 26 of Wild Highland Rose
For all that was worth.
She pulled her hand from his and stood up, putting physical distance between them, her face purposefully blank of expression. "Nay, I dinna say that. I just find it hard to believe that your mind is so gone that you canna remember anything about your life."
"I may not be able to prove what I'm saying, but that doesn't mean it isn't the truth."
"So you've said." Her tone was dismissive. She was obviously regretting her lapse of control, and some part of him responded with disappointment.
He stood, too, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Please don't be angry."
She shook her head, and stepped back, watching his hand fall to his side. "I'm no' angry. I've just had enough soul baring for one day." She looked up through the branches of the trees at the sky. "Whatever it is you're looking for out here, I dinna think you'll find it today. Nightfall is coming and you dinna want to be out in these mountains after dark." With that, she turned resolutely and started walking back in the direction of Crannag Mhór.
Cameron stood for a moment in the quiet of the woods, his mind still locked on visions of Marjory with her dying father, her childhood vanishing in an instant. Her hatred had carried her this far, keeping her breathing, helping her to face each day.
Cameron knew something about hatred. Something important. Only as quickly as he realized the fact, the reasoning behind it slipped away, taunting him from the dark recesses of his mind.
Hatred killed. Of that he was certain. And somehow the lesson pertained not just to Marjory, but to himself as well.
With a sigh, he turned to follow her. There were wolves in the woods, and just for moment, he relished the safety of Crannag Mhór. An oxymoron probably. But for the moment he'd simply have to live with the illusion.
*****.
Marjory pacedthe confines of her chamber replaying the events of the afternoon in her head. She couldn't believe she'd opened her heart to Ewen. No matter how addled, he was still a Cameron, and her tale would no doubt become fodder for many an entertaining evening back at Tyndrum once Ewen shared the story with his father.
Ifhe shared it, a little voice whispered.
She stopped, staring out at the moonlit courtyard. He seemed so different. Changed somehow, as if he were a new man. Which of course was a ridiculous notion. No one could change like that.
Still, there was something between them, some link or connection that had surely never existed before. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, fight against her confusion. There was just so much to comprehend.
It had been so simple before Ewen's accident. Each day much like the other, filled with plans to keep the Camerons out of Crannag Mhór without breaking her grandfather's hard won peace. There were days when it seemed unfair. As if she were nothing more than chattel to be bargained away, but thoughts like those she kept sequestered in a dark corner of her heart.
She simply couldn't function if she allowed her emotions to hold sway. Which made her reaction to Ewen all the more confusing. She pressed her hand against the window pane, wishing for someone to confide in. Someone who loved her.
She knew that Aimil would listen, Fingal, too, for that matter. But they'd not understand. Their world was as narrowly defined as hers, with no room in it for more than day to day existence—and the fight against the Camerons. For the first time in a long time, Marjory wondered if there was something more out there.
Something better.
But as quickly as the thought came, she quashed it.
Life was what it was, nothing more, nothing less. And to fritter away time on foolish flights of fancy was for other women. Women without responsibility. This was her home. These were her people. They depended on her. And she would not let them down.
And not even the tingling warmth of Ewen's hand against hers could be allowed to distract her. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to go to bed, a noise from the other side of the door between her room and Ewen's bringing her up short.
He was awake.
She'd heard him before at night. Pacing, restless. As if the demons that drove her, were torturing him as well. Sometimes he even cried out.
As if to echo her thoughts, his anguished voice split the night. He was caught in a dream. She took a step forward, then stopped. It was not her battle. And despite his words, he was not her friend. There was nothing she could do.
Turning her back, she moved toward her bed, trying to ignore the sounds from the next room. He did not need her help. He did not. And saying the mantra over and over, she settled into bed, leaving her candle burning against the demons of the night.
It was the dream again.Cameron tried to tell himself it wasn't real, but he could feel the rain sliding down his neck, seeping into the cotton of his shirt. He fumbled with the lock, finally getting the key in and the door open. His hands were shaking and he felt emotions battling inside him. Sliding into the dark of the car, he turned the key and reached to turn on the headlights, already knowing what came next.
The lights flashed on, illuminating the blonde. He wanted to get out of the car, to go to her, but his movements were already choreographed and his hand reached mechanically to the stick shift, sliding the powerful car into gear. He watched with alarm as the woman in front of him raised her hands, reaching for him, pleading with him, her mouth forming the word 'no'.
A silent scream.
He tried to make himself shift again, but he couldn't and he sat, helpless, as his foot pressed down on the gas pedal.
