"So ye galloped after me like a knight on a quest." She took a mouthful of whisky and coughed. When she caught her breath again, she stared at him once more. "Ye took your life in your hands doing that.
The ride up here had me shaking in my boots."
"I could trust Kelpie," he said defensively, although when the track narrowed, he'd rated his survival cheap as he’d forced the mare to maintain the reckless pace.
Then he realized Mhairi’s remark wasn’t a criticism. She sounded almost…admiring. The poor lass was obviously still in shock.
She returned his flask. "What are ye going to do with Sel?"
"I’ve locked the wretch up in the barracks." This time, there was no question where his anger focused. He replaced the flask’s stopper and put it back in his pocket. "Right now, I’m sorry I got rid of the dungeons. I'm ready to hang the bastard from the castle walls and let him die by inches."
"No, you’re no’."
He was surprised that she knew him well enough to realize that. "I damn well should be."
She still held his arm. "When he had the chance, he did the right thing."
Callum’s lips tightened. "Only because the game was up, and the swine knew it."
"Sheena used him for her own purposes. A hanging seems too harsh."
"He betrayed me."
"Aye."
He sighed. "But I told him he could take his choice – double guard duty for the next month or banishment from Achnasheen. He was grateful to take the guard duty. He’s gey crestfallen."
"Sheena's death will hit him hard. He’ll blame me for that, I'm guessing."
"If he says one word against ye and I hear about, it's expulsion without mercy."
She continued to study him, her deep blue eyes serious and searching. "You're a good man, Mackinnon."
Astonishment crashed through him. "Ye sound like you mean that."
When she smiled, there were no shadows. By God, what he'd give to kiss her, but she was hurt and she'd been afraid, although she didn't look afraid now. "I do."
"More whisky?"
She shook her head. He was sorry to stand up and break the sweet contact of her hand on his arm. It was a sign of how she’d suffered, that she seemed to forget that she still touched him.
Callum wished to heaven he could forget. But it was impossible when heat pooled under her fingers and set his blood pounding with impossible hope.
"I’ll take ye home."
"Aye," she said softly, and for one dazed moment the glow in her eyes held him transfixed. Then he recalled bleak reality and turned away to catch Kelpie's rein.
After he picked up his flintlock and tied the two stocky ponies to his saddle, he brought the mare over to Mhairi. He held out a hand. "Tell me if ye need to rest or if the pain gets too bad."
"I will."
Despite everything, his lips twitched. "Which means ye probably willnae."
She hated to admit any weakness. Her pride was remarkable.
With a readiness that ripped at his aching heart, she accepted his hand. She’d been uncharacteristically tractable since he’d saved her. This docility was proof of how the threat to her life had beaten the fight out of her. Briefly he closed his eyes and forced away the nauseating memory of her struggling with an armed assailant above a drop of hundreds of feet.
Nor did she stiffen when he lifted her onto Kelpie's back. Because he was watching her so closely, he caught her hiding a wince, despite his best efforts to be gentle. Reminder that she'd been hurt while in his care. And not for the first time, by God. Acrid remorse tightened his gut.