The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  He’d kept watch by the fire all night, not simply because he feared an attack, but because he didn’t trust himself. The shelter was barely big enough for both of them to fit under; he would be lying too close to her. And she was too damn tempting.

  Now he stood just below the summit of Binnein, his gaze sweeping from east to west. The rain had cleared, leaving gray skies but a clear view of the surrounding area. If his brother was heading this way, Patrick would see him.

  He’d woken Lizzie just before dawn and told her to tend to her needs and be ready in case they needed to leave quickly. He didn’t like leaving her alone, but these slick, steep rocks were far more dangerous than anything she was likely to encounter in the forest.

  The climb up the hill, normally done without thought, had been agonizing, taking far longer than he’d expected. At least he could be grateful that there were no signs of infection. So far. Little good he would be to Lizzie if infection set in.

  He had to admit, she’d surprised him. She was holding up much better than he’d expected. She was tougher than she looked. Though tired and weary, she’d adapted to the situation, accepting what had to be done with fortitude and without complaint.

  It almost made him wonder …

  Nay. Even if she could forgive him, he was chief now. He had a duty to his clan. A duty that put him at odds with her family—he’d not ask her to choose.

  He’d wanted to keep the details of her family’s treachery from her—knowing it would be difficult for her to accept coming from him—but even if she didn’t believe him, at least now she understood.

  He watched the lochs, the pass, and the forest beneath him for any sign of unusual movement. A few fishermen were scattered on the water, but this was wild, inhospitable land, and inhabitants were few and far between.

  Had Gregor decided not to pursue them? Had he lost their trail?

  Though neither scenario sounded like his brother, Patrick knew that they needed to leave soon. If Campbells weren’t already blanketing the area, they would be soon.

  An eagle cried and soared overhead. It dipped, and Patrick’s gaze lowered. And there, in a clearing in the trees below—two miles, maybe three, away—he saw a movement. Then another.

  His instincts went on full alert, and he watched as a group of five men on foot followed the exact path he and Lizzie had taken yesterday. He couldn’t see the men’s faces or plaids from this distance away, but he knew: It was them.

  Damn. There was only one road to Balquhidder open to them now—the high one through the hills. Lizzie was going to be seeing more of the Highlands than either of them had bargained for. He hoped to hell she was up to the challenge.

  Skirting around the north side of Binnein to avoid being seen, he raced back to camp—the pain in his leg dulled by the knowledge that every second counted. They had a good lead, and they needed to keep it that way.

  When he arrived back at camp, he didn’t need to say anything.

  She paled. “They’re coming this way.”

  “Aye. But we’ll lose them in the hills.”

  She nodded, unable to completely mask her trepidation. He almost reached for her, but she turned away. His chest tightened. She didn’t want comfort from him, not any longer. Now that she knew the truth.

  He looked around, intending to start getting their things in order, and realized it was unnecessary. Everything had already been packed neatly away in the bags. She’d even had the foresight to refill the skins from the small burn nearby that he’d told her to wash in this morning. In these hillsides water was never hard to find.

  He quickly smothered the fire but didn’t bother to hide the evidence of their encampment. It would only take time they didn’t have, and his brother was too good at recognizing the signs to be fooled. But once they were in the hills, it wouldn’t be so easy.

  Within five minutes of his arrival, they were off. He kept them moving at a brisk pace—if not a run, then not quite a walk, either. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and Gregor before nightfall. With any luck, they would spend one cold night in the mountains and be at Balquhidder before dusk tomorrow.

  The woodlands soon gave way to the strath. They followed the curve of Binnein north to the higher hill of Meall Reamhar. As they made their way up, bracken, heather, and grass gave way to rockier paths and Patrick was able to easily hide their tracks.

  In addition to keeping an eye on the landscape behind them, he kept constant watch on Lizzie, slowing every so often to allow her to catch her breath. Only when they crested the hill did he stop. Stretched out before them, from east to west, was a panoramic vista of burnished brown hilltops—broken only by the occasional glimpse of a loch or small copse of woodland nestled in the deep corries.

  Lizzie made a sound beside him that might have been a gasp, had she breath to lose. “It’s magnificent.” Her eyes met his. “Hills as far as the eye can see.” She bit her lip. “Are you sure … it would be easy to get lost.”

  “We won’t get lost.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “These are MacGregor lands. I was raised in these hills.”

  She flushed. “Of course. I didn’t think. Is your home near here?”

  His gaze hardened, her innocent question hitting a nerve. “What home? I’ve had no home since I was a boy.”

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “We’ve tarried long enough.” Turning his back to her, he started down the hill. He didn’t need her sympathy.

  They walked for hours. He pushed her as hard as he could without risking her collapse. The same could not be said of himself. Each step caused an explosion of pain so blinding, he wondered how much longer he could stand it. Steely determination and the knowledge that it was not just his life on the line kept him forging ahead.

  Once he thought he’d caught sight of figures cresting a hill in the distance behind them. But as often happened in these hills, the clouds proved an expedient cover, descending like a curtain to hide them from view and further hampering his brother’s ability to track them.

  But it wasn’t just his brother they had to worry about.

  As the day drew on, the low clouds, once friendly, took on an ominous change. They thickened, turning heavy and dark. The weather in these mountains was like quicksilver, changing without warning. But it wasn’t just the prospect of rain that worried him. It was the sudden drop in temperature—the unseasonable sudden drop in temperature.

  This high in the hills, with little to protect them, the cold was bone-numbing. With the plaid wrapped around her and her heavy wool skirts, Lizzie was better protected than he was with only a shirt and leather jerkin, but neither of them could stay out here for long, and they were still a good distance away from the place he’d hoped to shelter for the night.

  Realizing they weren’t going to make it before the storm set in, he knew he had to find someplace closer. He changed direction, heading due east, making for a copse of trees in one of the gulleys on the other side of the mountain ridge.

  Every time he looked at Lizzie, exhausted, shivering, trying bravely not to show her fear, he felt a stab of guilt so sharp that it felt like a dirk twisting in his gut. He urged her on with words of encouragement, but she was flagging.

  This was his fault. He never should have gone to Castle Campbell in the first place. Why had he? Land, yes, but also because from the first moment he’d seen her, he’d wanted her. And look where it had brought them: running for their lives in one of the most dangerous places on earth to be caught in a snowstorm—early or not.

  For the first time in his life, Patrick felt real fear. Not for himself—he’d weathered storms before—but for Lizzie. He didn’t know how much more she could take.

  His fears were well-founded when moments later the snow started to fall—hard and fast, as if it had been waiting months for the opportunity to let go, instantly covering their footsteps in a heavy white blanket and making each step over icy rock and dense heather more tr