Warrior's Last Gift(6)

            • • •

Thank all that was holy!

            Ahead of her, Eric dismounted and led his animal to the stream running alongside the small glen.

            She should no doubt do the same. She would, too. Just as soon as she could get her muscles to cooperate enough to allow her to lift her leg over the saddle.

            If they ever worked again, that is. Her legs trembled with exhaustion and, Lord, she hurt everywhere.

            With Eric’s emotionless stare fixed upon her, she forced herself to dismount. She would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d been right about her inability to make this journey.

            The best she could manage was to pull her leg over the horse’s rump so that she rolled to her stomach, intending to slide down the animal’s side.

            It would have worked, too, had her legs not refused to hold her weight. She felt her toes touch solid earth, but her legs were as weak as bread soaked in milk, collapsing beneath her.

            She braced for an impact with the ground, which never came. Instead, Eric’s strong arms fastened around her just in time.

            “As I thought,” he murmured, leaning down to sweep an arm under her legs and carry her to the spot where he’d already deposited his bedroll.

            Had she been able, she might have refused his help. She might have held her head high, pushing away from him. She might have insisted that he remove his hands from her at once.

            Instead, she allowed herself the luxury of laying her cheek against his broad chest. It had been so long since she’d last taken shelter there.

            He dropped to one knee and gently placed her on the ground. “Sit,” he ordered before rising to turn his back on her.

            It had been a moment of weakness and nothing more. She would give herself that one time, considering the hardship of the day.

            Eric dropped her things on the ground beside her before leading her mount to drink. Pushing herself up to her knees, she grasped onto the boulder behind her to stand. After a moment to assure herself she wouldn’t again topple over, she began, slowly, to gather bits of kindling for their fire.

            “I thought I told you to sit. I have this well in hand.”

            Eric stood across the open ground, his arms crossed over his chest as the last rays of sunlight glimmered through the canopy of trees to form a glow behind him.

            She turned her back on him and bent to her work. She’d fallen victim to his charms before, but not this time. This time would be different. It had to be.

            “I’ve no wish to be a burden to you,” she managed to croak out around the emotion thickening her throat.

            “A little late for that, I’d say.”

            “I beg yer pardon?” She straightened and tossed her kindling into the ring of stones Eric had already arranged. “I’ve done nothing to slow you down this day.”

            “True.” He dumped the load of wood he’d gathered on top of hers. “But I’d no be wasting my time upon this journey in the first place if no for you.”

            “Then go back.” Warming to the argument, she pointed in the direction she thought would carry him back to the trail. If only she could work up a really good anger, dealing with Eric would be so much easier. “Leave now. I’ve no need for you or yer bad attitude.”

            He shook his head, his own anger showing through the cracks in his mask. “As if Laird Malcolm would allow such, after yer whining plea for help to his good lady.” He cast a scathing glare her direction before turning his attention back to his work on setting the fire. “What pretty words did you say to convince her you should be allowed to risk yer life just to toss a dead man’s tooth into the sea?”