An Arrangement of Sorts Page 16

  He smiled to himself as he worked quietly. “Aren’t you tired at all?” he said softly as he turned his head to look at her.

  She shrugged lightly. “Of course, I am. But I told you that it takes me forever to fall asleep.”

  “So you did,” he allowed as he laid himself down on the floor.

  Moira blew out the candle, and the light in the room was restricted to the coals of the fire. Nathan put his hands behind his head and leaned back. As ridiculous as it sounded, though he was on the floor and she was high on the bed, he loved that he wouldn’t be apart from her tonight. He grinned to himself. He was becoming such a lovesick fool. His friends would have washed their hands of him, had they known.

  “Nathan?”

  He turned his head towards the sound of her voice. “What?” he asked softly.

  “Why did you bring your mother's ring for me to use?”

  “I wish I knew,” he said on a sigh. “I don’t keep it on me, or out on display, or anything sentimental like that. I was only thinking of how we could travel without trouble, and being married seemed to be the easiest, and the moment I thought of that, I thought of the ring.” He hesitated, and then ventured, “Does it bother you?”

  “No, not at all,” she replied at once, though he was not entirely certain he believed her. “I was only curious.”

  He considered that for a moment. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer for you.”

  She didn’t reply, and he wondered if she might actually try to sleep now. He knew it would be some time before sleep came to him, but he wouldn’t push conversation if she did not wish for it.

  It was not as though he didn’t have a great many things to think about, should he need to pass the time.

  After a long while, he heard her moving about on the bed, and then heard a frustrated sigh. “Aren’t you asleep yet?” he asked, laughing a bit.

  “I told you,” she hissed back, “it takes me a long time. And when I say a long time, I mean a long time.”

  He chuckled and turned on his side though he still could not see her, and propped his elbow up, resting his head in his hand. “Shall I try to help you sleep?”

  “Only if you don’t move from your current position,” she quipped sharply.

  He choked back more laughter. “I promise I will stay right here. I could tell you some of the grand adventures of Nathan Hammond and his merry band of idiots.”

  He could almost hear her smile “Now that sounds like a selection of stories to interest me.”

  “There are some rather fine tales to be told. Let us begin with the story of how Duncan was once bested by a milk cow.”

  And off he went, spinning all sorts of tales from his past, embellishing only slightly. It wasn’t long before Moira was snickering into her pillow, and Nathan had to put his fist to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He told as many stories as he could remember, about all of them. He even told her stories he had sworn on pain of death never to tell. By the time he had run out of stories, Moira was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and he was not much better. They were continually hushing each other, and the need for silence only made the temptation to laugh that much greater. When they had eventually calmed, they had talked only a little longer about banal things, and it was not long before he could hear Moira’s breathing deepen and the rustling ceased.

  Nathan rolled to his back and closed his eyes, sighing painfully.

  What he would have given to have more nights just like this.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nathan jerked awake sometime in the night, utterly bewildered as to where he was, why he was on the floor, and what had woken him. Gradually, sense and reason returned to him and he recalled his situation. He was in the room at the inn, and Moira had stayed. He was unable to help the stupid, sleepy grin that crossed his face at the recollection.

  It was still very dark, almost darker now than when he had finally fallen asleep, and he heard no noise, nothing that should have disturbed him. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to get comfortable again, feeling his body relax and his breathing deepen.

  Then he heard a panicked whimper and his eyes snapped open once more.

  Was that what had woken him? Or was it just by chance?

  Suddenly, there was a brief, but piercing cry from the bed somewhere above him.

  “Moira?” he whispered to the dark, not sure if he wanted a response or not.

  She made no reply but the sound of tears and frantic movement. He got to his feet and walked as quietly as he could to the bed. The sheets were tangled about her, and her eyes were still closed in sleep, though the sheen of sweat was forming on her skin. “Moira?” he asked again, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

  “No,” she half moaned, half whimpered, burying her face into the pillow. “No, no, no.”

  “Moira!” he said a little louder, shaking her shoulder.

  “Come back,” she cried, thrashing slightly. “Mama, don’t leave me! No!” Her cries dissolved into helpless, heaving sobs that even her pillow could not stifle.

  Nathan’s throat constricted and he almost groaned himself as he shook her harder.

  “Moira, wake up. Moira, it’s only a dream, wake up.” He had to dodge a swinging fist, and switched to a much simpler, yet infinitely more painful approach. He sat on the bed against the headboard and pulled her hard against him, smoothing her hair. “Moira, Moira, shhh. It’s all right. It’s only a dream.”

  She pushed against him, her breathing ragged and choked. “No, no! Mama!”

  “Shh,” he soothed, holding her tightly and rubbing her back in wide circles. “Moira, it’s all right. I’m right here. Wake up.”

  Abruptly, her flailing stilled and the resistance ceased, and with a gasp, she woke. Nathan released her immediately, but took hold of her shoulders so he could see her.

  “N-Nathan?” she stammered, blinking at him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked softly, staring at her closely.

  She looked around quickly, fear and distress still etched on her features. Then she realized what he had asked and nodded. “Yes, I’m… I am fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  Nathan did not like the way she attempted to reassure him, nor did he believe her. Her voice was quivering, and quiet tremors shook her.

  “Moira,” he said gently, his hold on her shoulders tightening.

  Her lips clamped together and she avoided his eyes. “Nathan, please,” she choked out, her breathing shallow.

  Without a word, he pulled her against him again.

  “Please,” she whispered, weakly pushing at his chest.

  He shook his head and held her more tightly. “No, Moira. You don’t have to be strong right now. You can cry. I’m here. It’s all right.”

  She was silent and still for a brief moment, then he felt her body shudder and curl against him. Her tears were quick to follow, and they rapidly fell onto his shirt, but he didn’t care. In short order, she was trying to muffle sobs against his chest, clinging to him. He held her close, murmuring into her hair, rubbing her back, and trying in vain to soothe the pain that she was feeling.

  He had never felt more helpless in his life.

  Eventually, Moira fell into a slumber so deep she did not move at all. Nathan pulled blankets over the two of them, made sure there was a pillow behind Moira in case she should move, and settled in for what was destined to be the longest night of his life.

  Moira awoke gradually, enjoying the sensation of a night well slept. She stretched her legs out, pointing her toes and groaning. She really had to learn how to sleep in a different position rather than curled into a ball. Waking up in the mornings was getting painful.

  Suddenly her toes brushed against something that she did not expect. Another leg? Why would there be another leg in the bed with her? Her heart froze in her chest as faint memories of the night before flittered through her mind. Her nightmare… waking up in the dark and… Nathan… She gasped and covered
her mouth, then slowly turned her head around to see behind her. As she feared, still slightly propped against the headboard, still asleep with his mouth slightly gaping, was Nathan.

  She hastily turned her head back, shutting her eyes with a soft hiss. She had suspected that when she had agreed to stay, and how her heart had sputtered when he had asked, that he would be witness to one of her nightmares, but she never imagined how bad it would be, or how he would respond. She had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had been the best comfort she had ever received.

  She quietly got out of the bed and tiptoed over to where a fresh dress lay on the chair. Without making any noise at all, she changed into it, avoiding as much exposure as she could. What if he woke up and saw her changing? That would be a perfect way to continue the awkward moments this morning. He would already have questions about the night before, she could not bear any more embarrassment than that.

  Sinking into the chair, she put her face into her hands. That dream last night had been the worst in some time, now that she recalled it. Sometimes she could remember, other times she only knew she had had one, not the content of it. Regardless, they drained her strength and she was always so exhausted the morning after enduring one, so it was fortunate she had been able to sleep for so long this morning.

  She took hold of her hair and began to plait it, sighing softly. If she knew of a way to ward off nightmares, she would have tried it with great enthusiasm. Anything would be better than dreams that plagued her nightly.

  She glanced over at the bed and, with a jump of surprise, found Nathan awake and watching her, his dark eyes slumberous but steady. How long had he been doing that? He did not look startled or embarrassed, but the manner in which he stared at her was disconcerting.

  Shaking off her shock, she flashed what she hoped was a convincing smile at him. “Well, hello there, sleepyhead! Were you planning on joining the living any time soon, or would you like more time to explore the insides of your eyelids?”

  He smiled faintly, but didn’t move. “I was dreaming,” he said softly, his voice touched with a bit of wonder.

  I never dream, Miss Dennison. She froze as the recollection of his words entered her mind. It had shocked her then, and she had been completely baffled as to how someone could possibly go through life without ever dreaming. But all of that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. She would not even begin to imagine why he had suddenly dreamed last night. The prospect was far too dangerous.

  “You were?” she breathed, her voice far less steady than she had intended it to be.

  He nodded, his eyes fixed on hers with an intensity she had not seen in them before.

  “About what?”

  “You.”

  All of the breath seemed to evaporate from her lungs. Still he did not look away, did not even appear to blink. She swallowed hastily and tried to smile. “I hope I was amusing.”

  “You were maybe four or five,” he told her, his voice low and gruff with remnants of sleep, “and you were up in a tree. I was around ten and running through the woods as if I was Robin of the Hood again. You were the Maid Marian, and I had to save you.”

  “Did you?” she asked quietly, wishing she could look away from him.

  “I don’t know,” he replied in the same tone. “Did I?”

  Now she had to look away; there was no pretending she did not understand him. Of course, he wanted to save her. Of course, he thought she needed saving. Of course, he wanted to protect her. That was what Nathan did. That was who he was. The protector. The defender. Robin of the Hood.

  “Moira,” he said softly, and she was helpless to turn back, only to find him sitting on the end of the bed, rather than lying on top of it. “What happened last night?”

  Her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed and shook her head.

  “Moira,” he said again, not making any moves towards her. “Please. What happened? What was that?”

  “A nightmare,” she said bluntly, holding herself as still as possible.

  “Yes, that much I figured out for myself,” he said, and she could hear him smiling, but still she kept her gaze averted. “What was it?”

  “I saw my mother,” she whispered, unable to resist telling him. “She was dying. I couldn’t save her. And then she was suddenly gone and I couldn’t find her.”

  “Do you have nightmares often?” Nathan asked gently, when it became evident she was not going to elaborate.

  She nodded. “Every night.”

  He rocked back in surprise. “Every night?”

  She finally looked at him, a bitter smile on her lips. “Ironic, is it not? You don’t dream at all, except for last night, and I have nightmares every night.” She let out a hard bark of laughter. “It’s almost comical.”

  Nathan did not smile. On the contrary, his concern seemed to increase. “How long has this been going on?”

  She sighed and toyed with her plait a little. “Years. I don’t remember when they began, but they come every night. ”

  “Are they always the same?”

  She shook her head. “I dream about my parents most of the time, but I also dream about Robbie. And Charles. Sometimes I dream of being back in that dark, cramped closet and no one can hear me. Other times I am lost and have no idea which way to go, and I cannot find anyone to help me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan said softly.

  “This is why I was so glad to sleep separately,” she told him, giving an apologetic smile. “It was not so much that I had to sleep in the stables, but because I didn’t want you to know about the nightmares. I usually wake up on my own and once I have calmed myself down, I can go back to sleep without any trouble.” She swallowed harshly and her voice turned raw. “But sometimes I can’t. Sometimes it is too real, and I am too scared. All of my fears come to life every night. The worst of it is that when I wake up, I am still alone, and all I have are my nightmares.”

  “And me,” Nathan added, his eyes warm and friendly.

  She smiled faintly, her heart burning with pleasure and pain. “Yes, and you. While it lasts.” Then she sighed, and forced back the gloom. “So now you know my biggest fears.”

  He seemed to consider that, and Moira wished he would say something, anything, to ease the tension in the room.

  “I have a terrible fear of public settings,” Nathan suddenly said aloud, still watching her.

  Her brow furrowed in confusion, and then she understood and allowed herself a small smile. “Have you?”

  He nodded. “I become very anxious when I must be a part of a large gathering, or when I am expected to perform in some way or another in front of people that I don’t know. I am quite good at conversing with people one on one, but when it comes to groups…” He trailed off and shuddered. “I will take working on a farm any day over a crowded ballroom.”

  “You fear being on display?” Moira asked, touched that he was sharing his fears with her now.

  “I suppose you could say that,” he allowed. “If I had to put a name to it, I would say that I have a fear of saying or doing something that will be perceived as wrong by those who don’t know me. I fear public opinion.” He paused for a moment, and then sighed reluctantly. “And spiders.”

  Moira stared at him for a heartbeat, and then quirked a brow. “Seriously? Spiders?”

  He shrugged. “Give me snakes or ghouls or rats, and I am fine, completely unperturbed. But if you put a little spider into my line of sight, I will break out in a cold sweat.”

  “Do you scream?” she asked with a devious grin.

  “Never,” he said firmly with an emphatic shake of his head.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t believe you,” she said finally. “I think you scream.”

  “You are never allowed to meet Geoff,” he muttered, standing up from the bed and rubbing his hands on his trousers.

  “Why not?” Moira asked
with a laugh as she went back to pinning up her hair.

  “Now telling you that would be counterproductive, and give you far too many ideas, and I refused to be baited by you,” he scolded with a smile. “Shall we go down to breakfast?”

  She nodded and walked over to the door, where he escorted her out and took her hand. “If you tell anybody about you-know-what…” he warned in a low voice.

  “Oh, really, who am I going to tell, Nathan?” she interrupted with a hiss.

  He gave her a look. “Knowing you, anybody you can find.”

  She laughed out loud and tugged on his hand, pulling him into the room where a good many patrons already sat eating.

  Well, there would hardly be a need for convincing the public of their proper relationship, Moira thought as they sat down themselves. The way Nathan was laughing, the way their hands were linked, combined with the ring on their fingers, told everybody exactly what they already suspected.

  If only it was the truth.

  “I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Nathan said some time later, after they had been riding a while.

  Moira looked where he was indicating, and shrugged. “They don’t look too terribly imposing to me. Don’t worry about the clouds.” She flashed him a teasing grin. “Unless you are also secretly afraid of thunderstorms.”

  He glared at her in what he hoped was a menacing manner. “No, I just don’t want to be caught out here in the middle of a storm. We are not near any shelter, and it would hardly be an easy thing to get our horses to behave if it storms.”

  That sobered Moira slightly, but she still smiled. “I think it will pass us by, Nathan. We had that large storm yesterday. I don’t think we will have another one. Now, stop worrying and ride!” She took off suddenly at a mad gallop, laughing just as wildly.

  He had no choice except to follow after her, but he grumbled about her lack of concern. Just because a storm had come yesterday did not mean that they would not get one today, and if she honestly thought that weather patterns actually followed a pattern, then she was not nearly as intelligent as he thought she was.