“No, I…” He couldn’t seem to think. “I don’t mean to kill him, I mean to stop him from hurting anyone else.” Absently he pulled one end of the blue ribbon until the bow came untied. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t back away. “And—confound it, I know this is weak of me—but I cannot forgive him for causing me to kill a man. It’s a burden I’ll carry the rest of my life. But that he shot me…no. That I blame on my own carelessness. I wasn’t fast enough; I was stunned.” His fingers combed through her hair as the words tumbled out. “And perhaps I shouldn’t have been taking the law into my own hands to begin with. It’s not…not the sort of person I am. Though you’ve seen no other, so I cannot fault you for believing so.”
“Nay, I believe you. I’ve seen who you are, Jason Chase.” Her fingertips brushed his jaw. “I’ve seen a man of honor and compassion, and sometimes, when you let it slip, even a wee bit of charm.”
Reversing their positions, he came up on an elbow and hovered over her. She fell back to the pillow, her lips curving into the sweetest smile, her eyes filling with blue light. Free from her customary plaits, her hair was a mass of colors shimmering against the sheets. She trembled beneath him, but her smile never wavered.
One of his traitorous hands moved to clasp her chin. That wide, soft-looking smile seemed to draw him in, until their faces were only an inch apart. “Emerald…”
The light in her eyes died, and she rolled away.
Bewildered, he gazed at her a moment longer, then flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, saying nothing. There was nothing he could possibly say. He ought not to be kissing her in the first place, so he could hardly fault her for putting a stop to it.
Not that he was worried for her reputation. With two little ones at home, she was no chaste maiden. She was a woman of…a woman of…
What was she, exactly?
A Scot, a mother, a daughter—and perhaps a sister, if that bit of her story proved true. And she was a…businesswoman? What did one call a female who made her living tracking outlaws?
Well, unconventional she might be, but that didn’t mean it was all right to kiss someone he had no intention of courting. It was very much not all right. If he had any scrap of the gentleman left in him, he’d keep his distance.
If only he could be a greater distance from her now.
He swore he could feel her warmth penetrating the bedclothes.
Cursing silently, he took the top quilt and slid off the bed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept on the floor.
Assuming he could sleep at all.
THIRTY-FIVE
“THE BIRDS ARE singing,” Caithren said the next morning when they were back on the road.
Since their almost-kiss last night, Jason had said hardly a word. While she didn’t know how she felt about him, she did know she didn’t care for the awkward silence. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
“It’s hot,” he complained.
“It’s warm and clear, just as the green flash portended. Will you open your eyes? The clouds look like wool before spinning.”
She felt him shrug behind her. “They look like clouds to me.”
“Is everything so black and white for you, then?” One of her hands went into her pocket to feel for Adam’s miniature. For all his faults, Adam had an imagination. Too much of one, maybe; he couldn’t be less like Jason. “Do you never see gray sometimes? Or purple?”
“Black is black, and white is white. I see no reason to call them otherwise.”
“You’re grumpy this morning.” He was angry with her for rejecting him. Well, she was angry with herself as well. She sighed and tried to put a note of compassion into her voice. “Did you suffer the bad dream again last night?”
“I wish I could have.” With his free hand, he rooted in his coat pocket for his water flask. “It was rather impossible to dream given that I didn’t sleep.”
“Well, nobody said you had to sleep on the floor. I shared a bed with you the first night, and you didn’t hear me complaining.”
“Is that so?” He brought the flask before her so he could use both hands to pull out the cork. “Maybe that’s because you didn’t stay long enough in it—”
“Wheesht.” She cupped an ear. “Do you hear water?”
He shook the flask. “No. It’s empty.” Disgruntled, he corked it and shoved it back into his pocket. “Are you thirsty?”
“Aye. And I hear a burn. Running water. There, to the right—I mean the left.”
Following where she indicated, he guided Chiron off the road and along a small path that had been trodden through the trees.
Dismounting, she sighed in pleasure at the sight before her. The stream babbled through a sparse emerald forest, its banks studded with multi-colored pebbles that looked like so many wet jewels.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” She sat upon a log to remove her shoes and stockings.
Jason turned from where he was tethering Chiron. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“I wish to take a stroll in the water. Does it bother you, then?”
He shrugged. “I suppose not.”
“You said it was hot. A wee wade would help you cool off.” While Jason didn’t strike her as a man to doff his stockings and wade in a burn, it was worth a try to get him out of his dour mood. “Come along,” she cajoled. “Be impulsive. Isn’t that what you called it when we went down into the tunnel? And you said it was fun.”
His eyes locked with hers for a long moment, clear and unfathomable. “Very well,” he said at last. “Get started.” He waved her along the bank. “Let me fill the flask and check the
