The Rock Read online

  With Helen’s help, it didn’t take long to wrap the linen around the injured shoulder. Satisfied, Helen told Thommy he could put on his shirt, which due to the loose cut, he was able to do on his own—despite not being able to lift his right arm more than a few inches. Elizabeth suspected that keeping him from lifting was the reason for the binding. Donning his leather surcoat was a bit more difficult, but he managed with Helen’s help.

  Without looking at Elizabeth, he thanked Helen, grabbed his plaid and weapons, and started for the door.

  Elizabeth exchanged a surprised glance with Helen and went after him. “Thommy, wait! I wanted to—”

  Talk to you. But her words were cut off by the sound of a door closing.

  Elizabeth blinked, almost as if she couldn’t believe he’d just slammed the door on her.

  After a hastily muttered apology to Helen (although why she was apologizing for his rudeness, she didn’t know), she went after him. Actually, as he was walking so fast, she had to run after him.

  “Thommy!” Her voice grew louder. “Thommy, wait!”

  There were a number of people milling about the yard who turned to look at her. Unfortunately, Thommy wasn’t one of them. He didn’t stop walking until she came up next to him, grabbed his arm, and forced him to acknowledge her. They were a few feet away from what she suspected was the barracks, and the torches near the door provided enough light to see his face. “Good gracious, Thommy, I asked you to wait. Did you not hear me?”

  “I heard you fine—the English on the other side of the border probably heard you fine—but I did not hear a question.”

  She frowned. “You did not give me a chance. I was going to ask to speak with you.”

  “No, thank you,” he said in the same overly polite tone he’d used earlier. He started to move away. Would have moved away if she hadn’t stepped around to block him. Or tried to block him, but as soon as their bodies came into contact, she realized the futility of that. It was like running into a stone wall. Actually, it was like having a stone wall run into her. He was forced to catch her to prevent her from falling on her backside.

  He set her on her feet and let her go about as quickly as a burning pot. “Bloody hell, Elizabeth, do you ever look before you step? I’ve never known someone to have such a difficult time staying upright.”

  It sounded so much like something he would have said years ago that she grinned back at him. “I tie my boots together, remember?”

  It was what he’d always teasingly accused her of doing to explain her frequent stumbles as a girl. She didn’t stumble so often anymore, although the last time she had, it was the first time he hadn’t been there to catch her. She’d ended up with a twisted ankle.

  She’d always been able to lighten his moods with a silly jest or gentle tease, but it was clear that wasn’t the case anymore. His expression was not one of amusement. Ambivalent, mildly annoyed, and impatient was probably a more accurate description.

  Darkly shadowed and strikingly handsome was another. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at the familiar features and wondering how it could be that he looked so different.

  But it wasn’t just his appearance that had undergone changes in the past three years, she realized. The changes were deeper—far deeper. The grim, taciturn warrior with the merciless mouth and eyes as cold and sharp as steel was nothing like the reserved, if sometimes stoic, childhood companion she remembered. If she didn’t know him so well, she might think he looked intimidating. Maybe even fierce.

  But it was clear that the past few years had been hard on him, and suddenly she wanted to hear everything about it. Everything about him. Just like it had been when they were young.

  “What is it that you wanted, Elizabeth? Say what it is you have to say. I’m tired and want to get back to the barracks.”

  She looked up at him, scanning his face for any vestiges of the man she remembered and wondering how she was going to break through this impenetrable shell he’d put up around him. She couldn’t let it go on like this. He was too important to her. He’d always been the one person she could count on, the one person who was always there for her—even when he wasn’t. The thought that she might never see him again—never talk to him again—was inconceivable. She needed him in her life. She just hadn’t realized how much until now.

  She tried not to sound hurt. “I just wanted to speak to you.”

  “And what I want is immaterial?”

  She stepped back, unsure of what he was accusing her. “Of course not. But it’s been three years, Thommy. I thought you might wish to speak with me, too? I had hoped you would still not be angry with me after what happened last time. You never gave me a chance to apologize.”

  “I am not angry with you at all. Why should I be? The fault was mine.” He spoke so calmly—so indifferently—it was hard to believe this was the same man who’d burned with such passion. She almost wished he was still angry with her. At least then she would know he cared a little. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry if I offended you. You need not fear it will be repeated. I see things very clearly now.”

  She didn’t know what he was trying to say. Did that mean he no longer had feelings for her? She was relieved. Of course, she was. That meant they could go back to being friends. “I never meant to hurt you, Thommy. Surely you know that?”

  He stared at her intently, as if wanting to deny it, but ultimately, he seemed to concede her sincerity. “Aye.”

  It was the first crack in the steely facade, and rather than step back and be patient as she should have, she pressed forward. “Does that mean we can still be friends?” She reached up and put her palm on his cheek, the stubble underneath thicker and rougher than it had been before. Something about that sent a shiver over her skin as she said, “I’ve missed you.”

  He flinched away from her touch. She could feel the hard calluses on his palm as it wrapped around her wrist to drag her hand to her side. “You can’t touch me like that anymore, Elizabeth. We aren’t children. Someone might see and get the wrong idea. Your brother, for one.”

  She frowned. “Jamie can go to the Devil. I don’t care what he thinks.”

  “I wish I could say the same, but in this case he’s right. You and I . . . There is no you and I. We cannot go back to the way it was. I haven’t been Thommy for a long time—and you aren’t Ella. We have different lives. I’m a soldier, and you are the sister of the Black Douglas. We live in two different worlds. You need to go back to yours and leave me to mine. I’ve moved on, it’s time for you to do the same.”

  Her lips parted with a gasp that never came; it stayed lodged in her chest, where it started to burn.

  He turned on his heel and walked away. This time she let him go.

  Elizabeth told herself that Thommy—Thom (how was she supposed to think of him that way?)—didn’t mean it. He couldn’t want to cut her out of his life completely. Forever. They would get past this. They had to get past this.

  Time . . . that’s what he needed. She vowed to give him that before seeking him out again.

  But it didn’t take her long to regret that vow.

  Only one hour later, she stood gazing up at her brother. “What do you mean, there is no sign of him? There has to be a sign of him. He couldn’t have just disappeared.” Jamie’s expression was too still. Too expressionless. “What is it? What are you not telling me?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Tell me, Jamie, I know when you are hiding something.”

  He shook his head and sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m not. But you were right, we were unable to find any sign of him after Selkirk. Archie isn’t usually so careful, and it bothers me.”

  She’d thought the same thing. “Perhaps you could use a different tracker?”

  Jamie quirked his mouth in a half smile. “I used the best. Trust me, if Lamont can’t pick up his trail no one can.”

  “Then what do we do?” She started to pa