Hamish's POV-
The next morning, he woke up to the soft sound of her snoring, still wrapped in his arms. She seemed at peace now, a strong contrast from the pained looked of fright from the night before. Poor Villy, what on earth could she have been dealing with in her dreams, her nightmares, that hurt her that badly? And the things she'd said, Hamish felt a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He was starting to form a theory about that bruise around her right eye. Theway she screamed her fathers name in terror, the way her eyes flashed with recognition when he'd accused someone not something of having hurt her; she had been abused, and he was going to find a way to help her.
"I promise..." he whispered, stroking the undamaged side of her face. She stirred.
Vevilla's POV-
Something woke her, she wasn't sure what. But when she looked up into his eyes, she became instantly self conscious, altough she really didn't know why. She frowned.
"Feeling better?" he was looking at her with concern, she was fine...
"What?"
"Last night, ye were havin a nightmare. Are you alright, i couldn't wake you..." he blushed and she realized he was referring to the fact that she was still laying in his arms, hugging his side. She sat straight up in alarm.
"A nightmare?! What...did I say anything?" she was really worried, her sisters had often complained of her sleep talking, but she'd never talked in one of hernightly bad dreams.
"Oh, um, well..." she looked at him, anxiety in her features, he couldn't lie.
"Yeah, you were hollering at your Da, and cryin fer yer Ma.... Who's Maria?" his curiousity got the best of him, and he wanted to distract her from the look of utter agony on her face. She buried her face in her hands whispering "oh no...no..." she looked up as he put a hand on her back to comfort her.
"I'm sorry, I really am. You didn't need to hear, you shouldn't have, I...I'm sorry." after a moment of stuttering mumbles, she said quietly,
"Maria is my sister." she looked pained, and he didn't press. Hamish got up, and dressed. After a few awkward minutes he turned to her,
"We'll be headin out soon, I'll let you dress and we'll find you a horse. Would ya ride with meh?" she looked up, feeling as if suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings. She smiled slightly, after all, he'd been a gentleman, not taking advantage of her being, well, distracted last night.
"I'd like that. Oh, and Hamish?" he looked up, satisfaction radiating from his smile.
"Is there any stew left, I'm hungry." he laughed, nodded, and ducked out of the tent.
She dressed quickly, thinking. She could still feel where his arms had held her, the safety, security she'd felt, even waking up in what seemed a strange place. She smiled to herself, and then frowned. This was not good. She couldn't lose her head here. Getting attached to that oaf was a bad idea, getting attached to any man was a bad idea, but one engaged in a war, one obviously oblivious to rights of women, just the way he'd forced her to stay here with him...well involvement would just be stupid. She shook her head and gathered her things.
Later that afternoon, they were riding together as promised. Hamish looked at her, a quizzical look on his face.
"What?" he smiled.
"So you have a sister..." she sighed, he was so nosey. Already that day he'd asked her about her village, what she could cook, if she was promised, what her favorite color, bird, place, and saint were. She knew they'd get to family soon enough. Most of his questions were easy, and she didn't mind quenching his curiousity. Some were more difficult though, technically she had been betrothed, unwilling, but still. She'd replied that she was once, but it had been broken off. He hadn't pressed, and she was grateful. She didn't have a favorite saint, she was Catholic like all loyal Scots, but she was ignorant of most church learning, she hadn't even been to a real cathedral since her mother died. Father O'Henry spoke all of the village ceremonies in Latin, she stopped trying to understand the English parts years ago. Hamish hadn't been happy about that. She chuckled to herself thinking about his never ending questions, and started to answer the latest quarry,
"Yes, five actually. From the youngest, there is Brona, Cara, Arora, Bridget, Maria, me, and then we have an older brother." she paused, he noted her hesitancy and waited patiently for her to continue.
"Angus will be 20 years at harvest this fall. We haven't seen him in months."
"What happened? Where'd he go?" she looked at him shyly, suddenly terrified he'd have bad news for her. She took a deep breath.
"He ran off to join Wallace with my uncle 6, 7 months ago now. We haven't had any news." Hamish looked taken aback, and looked away from her. Oh dear lord, please don't let it be so...
"Angus is YOUR brother? I shoulda known!" he started laughing obnoxiously, that big booming laugh he had. She smiled but didn't quite understand, she was still recovering from the heartattack she'd felt at the possiblity of him being...she couldn't even think it.
"Angus McAndrew is your brother!" he looked over at her puzzled expression, and contained his laughter.
"Don't worry lass, your brothers fine. He's been with us some time now. Fact, when he first got here, bein so small, a man told him to go home to his mother, children don't fight wars. Angus pulled a blade he gotpast our guardson that insane Irishman, andhe and Stephen havebeen best mates ever since! He may be small, but that lad is fast, he's one of our best runners, s'why you haven't seen him around camp, he ought to be back any day now." she sighed in relief. Angus was safe, she would even get to see him soon! She beemed at Hamish as they got off their horses.
"Look at you! Like a wee lass with a new straw dolly." He chuckled, and she found herself smiling in response. At the first, she had been on the defense automatically, afraid of the world of men in general. But after last night, and the way he kept treating her even though she'd been anything but cooperative, was changing that.
She looked at the ground for a moment, then walked up to him, wrapped her arms around hisneck,kissed his cheek,and whispered, "Thank you"
Hamish's POV-
She walked away, taking care of her horse. He stood there, stock still. She must have been worried sick about her brother. That was all that meant. She was so relieved, she felt the need to thank him. That's all, any man in camp who knew Angus and told her he was fine would have gotten the same response he was sure. All the same, a little voice in his head desperately wanted it to be different. Wanted the fact that it was him to have an effect on her expression of touched his cheek where her lips had pressed against his skin. He groaned. Being careful not to hurt or scare her, trying to help her even, was going to be more difficult than he thought. Because every thought going through his head right now, every dream he'd ever had about a wife and family and love, every dream that now revolved around that tiny, beautiful girl, was going to hurt them both.