Summer Of Love Part 14

"But I saw you two, Robert," the boy insisted, "and later on I saw Helen come back from the lochan."

The grin left Robert's face. His eyes narrowed. "What did you say, boy?" he asked threateningly.

Frightened, the boy took a few steps back. "I saw you and Helen swim naked in the lake." And then he ran away.

Betty overheard the exchange and quickly dashed into the hut. "Robert's here and Donald told him that he saw you swimming with a man in the lochan."

Helen blanched.

"You met Andrew again. Helen, what did you do?"

Before she could answer, Robert's angry face appeared at the hut opening.

"Get out!" he growled at Betty.

She left with a last worried look at Helen. He brushed past her and took Helen's wrists in an iron grip, shaking her. "With whom did you swim in the lochan, la.s.s?"

"With n.o.body... Robert, let go! You're hurting me."

She struggled to free herself. He tightened his grip.

"You're lying. Donald saw you with a man."

"Donald is wrong. I was alone... Robert, this hurts!"

He pushed her roughly against the wall. She screamed frightened, as her head hit the rough wood. "Robert, stop it! You've no right to treat me like this."

"I've all the rights. We're betrothed, and you're cheating on me even before we're married," he scowled, advancing again.

She tried to slip past him. He grabbed her arm, shoving her again sharply against the wall. Her face betrayed her fear and increasing anger. This seemed to stir him on even more.

"Who was it? Or do I have to beat it out of you?"

"You dare touch me and our wedding is off for good!" she hissed.

"Ha, your father's sure to back me up on this! You want me to tell him about you swimming with another man in the lochan? Naked? Did he have you?"

"I told you. I was alone. Donald is wrong. He was probably too excited to see me naked."

"You're a liar!" he shouted. "You can't fool me that easily. I know you saw another man, the same one you met at the dance. That's why you've been so strange lately." He went to the hut opening, where he turned briefly. "I'll find out. His days are numbered as surely as my name is Robert MacGregor. n.o.body steals my woman."

He stormed out. Helen watched him hurry away in the direction of the clachan. Betty joined her again.

"Helen, why did you see Andrew again? And what did you two do at the lochan?" Betty looked at her reproachfully. Helen just stood there, her eyes empty, her hands hanging down, her body trembling. "What are you going to do now? Robert is sure going to tell father."

"Nothing," murmured Helen. "Andrew isn't coming back. They'll never find out." Her voice sounded unsure in spite of the words.

"And what about you and Robert?"

Helen shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you love him at all?"

Again, Helen answered with a shrug. "I thought I was fond of him, before Andrew came back... Now, I don't know anymore. All I know is that he frightens me when he has one of his bad tempers."

"Oh, Helen! What have you done?"

Betty rushed to her and took into her arms. In the security of the embrace, Helen let go and sobbed.

Early next morning, Mary appeared on the shielings, her face somber, closed off. She did not greet her two daughters and her youngest son. Her only words were to order Helen to come with her to the clachan. On their way down, she questioned her daughter. But Helen insisted on her story.

"La.s.s, I know that you're lying. You've met with master Andrew up there again. One of the men has seen a lone rider heading into the hills each day, ever since Sunday. They'll be watching, and if he goes to the lochan again there will be a killing."

He won't come again. They won't catch him, Helen tried to rea.s.sure herself, but deep down lingered the nagging fear that he might anyway. What then? Mother said there will be a killing. Oh no! Her heart was all of a sudden pounding away high in her chest. She said a silent prayer that he wouldn't come again. It did little to calm her fears.

She was ordered into the fields with the other women. They all seemed to watch her closely. Midmorning, her father dropped by. Helen braced herself mentally to be taken to task, but he only stared with a dark frown and told Mary that he and the boys were off. He did not say where, but there was a fierce look in his eyes.

Andrew was back at the lochan on Friday in spite of Helen's promise that she wouldn't come again. It didn't matter to him. Just knowing that she was close was soothing. He tried to read, but found it hard to keep with it. His mind tended to drift. At noon he took a few bites from the generous lunch the inn keeper had prepared -enough for two people. He read some more.

The faint noise of running feet made him p.r.i.c.k his ears. Helen? Was she coming anyway? He got up to meet her. As he came to the corner where he could see the path from the lochan, he stopped in disarray. Four men were running up-in front the young man who had put his hand so possessively on Helen's shoulder. He held a pistol. Close behind were Helen's two brothers and Dougal MacGregor. When they saw him, they yelled.

"Hoy, we caught him!"

"It's master Andrew!"

"A Campbell of Argyle. Get the b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

They were after him! It couldn't still be Dougal's oath to kill him? All at once, it dawned on him that they must have discovered his secret meetings with Helen. That's why her betrothed was here! Cold fear shot into his guts. He dropped the book and quickly retreated, looking for a speedy escape from the promontory. The boulders and loose scree on the steep slope behind the rock was tricky to negotiate, and the four would be upon him before he could reach the ridge above. He rushed to the edge of the rock jutting into the lake. The water was fifty feet below, dark, cold, ominous. Even if he survived the jump, he would never make it to his horse. They would catch him easily. He had no pistols to defend himself, not even his dagger. There was little else left but to let them take him. They would hardly kill me... or would they? fleetingly crossed his mind.

And then the first one came running around the corner, sneering: "I've got you, you Sa.s.senach traitor! Messing with my woman!"

He raised his pistol and took aim. Andrew stared helplessly. The bullet hit his left thigh, and he staggered backward under its impact, an excruciating pain shooting down his leg. Dougal had his pistol out by then too. "Jump" screamed his mind, and he went over the edge, while another shot rang out.

It felt eerie, as he tumbled head over heels through the air. Time seemed to have stopped. The shock of hitting the water was like jumping onto a hard rock surface from ten feet up. And then cold darkness engulfed him. He had forgotten to fill his lungs and almost immediately felt the pressure to breathe. He gasped. A few air bubbles escaped. Calm now he forced his mind as panic threatened to swallow him. He tried to push himself up to the surface, but the intense stab of pain in his left thigh made him freeze. The weight of his wet clothing pulled him down into the murky water at the bottom. The increasing urge to breathe burned like fire in his lungs. Frantically, he pushed himself up with his arms alone. Suddenly, the underwater entrance to the cave opened in front of him. Hanging on with a last effort of will, he pulled himself through and broke the surface with a desperate gasp. How sweet the air tasted in his lungs! He held on to the ledge in the cave, recovering his breath slowly. After a minute or two he dragged himself up and lay on the smooth rock, watching in dismay the blood ooze slowly through the hole of his leather breeches.

Shortly after midday, Dougal returned to the clachan, riding a horse. Instantly, Helen recognized Andrew's steed. She stared in disbelief, her heart cramped into a knot; she could hardly breathe. Each painful heart beat reverberated in her ears like the sound of drums. Why did he go back? He promised not to. Then she corrected herself. I asked him to promise me. He never did. Desperate, she needed to cling to hope. Father came back alone. Maybe he got away, or were the others digging his grave right now?

"Who was it," asked Mary as her husband approached.

"Master Andrew-He must have returned to Killin, the traitor." He stared at Helen with an angry frown. "My own daughter secretly meeting with a Campbell of Argyle. Have you no sense of honor, child?"

Helen averted her gaze.

"Did you kill him?" questioned Mary.

"We don't know-he simply disappeared in the lochan. We surprised him on that rock high above the water. Robert shot him, and he fell over the edge. We never saw him again. All we saw were a few bubbles of air coming to the surface. He probably drowned himself, wounded and all. It's a mighty drop down to the water, enough to knock a man out or even kill him. The others are watching the lochan. In a day or two his body will float to the surface. Then, we can fish him out and dig him into the ground somewhere. n.o.body will ever know."

"Unless they find his horse here," retorted Mary sarcastically.

"I will exchange it with one of our cousins in Balquhidder. I will also send one of the boys to Killin to watch the inn."

As Dougal gave his account, Helen's hope rose. He made it to the cave. n.o.body but she knew about it. He must be hiding there. He was wounded. She must help him. But how could she without giving him away? At another level, she was disturbed by her mother's apparent complete lack of emotion about hearing of the death-the man she believed to be her own son. Did she have no motherly feelings?

The only remark her mother made after her father left was: "Now you see what you have done."

All afternoon, Helen looked out for her brothers and Robert to return, dreading it at the same time. What if they discover the entrance to the cave? What if Andrew didn't make it and drowned as father said? Robert shot him. Even if he made it into the cave, he might be bleeding to death. Her thoughts went in circles. She felt a frantic need to run up to the lochan, to search for Andrew. But she knew that this would only give him away. She was going crazy. Her eyes constantly strayed to the path to the shielings, expecting the others to appear any moment, hoping they wouldn't.

The three young men returned for the evening meal without having found any sign of their quarry. It gave Helen's hope a needed boost.

Robert boasted: "Your lover boy's done with. I shot him. Tomorrow or the day after we'll fish his bloated carca.s.s from the water." He seemed to relish painting a gruesome picture.

She made no response, ignored him, and avoided his presence. Over these last two days she had gradually come to the conclusion that she couldn't marry this man, that it would be a constant h.e.l.l. He wouldn't forgo any opportunity to remind her that she had cheated on him. She had never been really sure about becoming his wife. It was only her parents' pressure, and particularly her mother's, that had made her agree in the end. But now her body revolted at the thought of him touching her. She had to find a way to call it all off. But then, why couldn't she marry Andrew. Because he was a Campbell of Argyle-her father's stinging words like a barb in her throat.

While Alasdair went into Killin to keep a watch on the inn, Dougal, Robert, and Robin climbed up to the lochan early next morning. They carefully searched the surface of the lake and combed the sh.o.r.e. But there was no sign of a body. Helen's hope that Andrew was still alive grew, although Alasdair's report that he didn't return to the inn fueled her worry that he might be seriously wounded. She racked her brain for ways to sneak away to the lochan, but no opportunity offered itself. Her mother and the other women watched her constantly.

In the middle of the night she got up noiselessly from her straw mattress. As she tried to tiptoe past the part.i.tion in the cottage, her mother raised herself and whispered: "Helen, what are you doing?"

"I need to relieve myself."

"Wait, I want to come with you."

For an instant, Helen was tempted to simply run off, but then abandoned the thought quickly. All men would be looking for her within minutes. So, she waited for her mother to join her, and then returned to her mattress, unable to find sleep. She began to curse herself for having met Andrew a second time. This wouldn't have happened if she had been strong enough.

The men returned to the lochan the next day and the day after. There was still no body, nor any report of Andrew's return to the inn. Helen was getting more and more desperate. She needed to know what had happened to him.

On the fourth day, Mary ordered Helen to return to the shielings. She was glad to get away from her mother and the other women. Every glance of theirs conveyed an accusation, a reproach, disdain. But more importantly, she finally saw an opportunity to check if Andrew was still in the cave. So, rather than go directly to the shielings, she went first to the lochan. Not a ripple broke the water's smooth surface, which mirrored their rock in its stark beauty. Carefully, she scanned the ridges surrounding the glen. There was no soul in sight. She quickly ran around the lake to the hidden entrance of the cave. Another check to a.s.sure herself that she wasn't followed, and she ducked behind the bushes and crawled into the pa.s.sage. It was blocked by a rock. For a moment she was confused. Then she recognized it as one of the shelves. Andrew must have placed it there. So, he was still inside. Softly, she called his name. No answer. She called again.

"Wait, Helen. I'll open up," came his m.u.f.fled response.

The rock was slowly moved away an inch and then toppled onto its side, freeing the entrance. She crawled through. For a moment she could only see bright beams of light slicing through the darkness in the cave. Then slowly her eyes adjusted and she saw him kneeling in front of her. He wanted to embrace her.

"No, Andrew. I've to hurry. I only brought you a bite to eat, and want to warn you that father has somebody watching the inn. You must get away quickly!"

"Helen, I can't walk that far. I got a bullet wound in my thigh."

"Show me! Is it festering?" she asked anxiously. Only then did she notice that he wasn't wearing his leather breeches, but only short cloth pants, a kind she had never seen before.

"No, I don't think so. I took the bullet out and cleaned the wound with the brandy I had in my little flask."

She removed the primitive bandage. "It looks ugly, but thank G.o.d there's no reddening."

She wrapped her own kerchief tightly around the wound. Suddenly, she heard a noise from the entrance. They turned and faced a grinning Robert, his pistol trained on Andrew.

"Your mother was right when she said you would lead me straight to your lover boy," he sneered.

Helen moved to shield Andrew. Robert growled: "Move away, la.s.s, or you'll get it too. You deserve it!"

Helen faced him defiantly. "Then you have to kill us both!"

"Helen, do as he tells you, please!" urged Andrew. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yes, listen to your lover boy, la.s.s!"

Reluctantly, Helen rose, grabbing a handful of fine sand.

"So I didn't get you last time. I won't fail this time." He raised his pistol for better aim. "This is to avenge my father."

"No!" she shouted while throwing the sand into Robert's face. He swore and, half-blinded, fired the pistol. Andrew immediately dropped to the side and the bullet hissed harmlessly past him, ricocheting on the wall behind. Helen threw another handful of sand, while Andrew lunged for Robert. Filling the cave with his swearing, Robert quickly overpowered the weakened and injured Andrew despite his impaired sight. His hands closed around Andrew's throat. The latter frantically tried to pull them away, but the grip slowly tightened. Helen saw his face begin to redden and bloat, as he gagged. She grabbed the nearest rock and hit Robert on the back of his head. His grip loosened and he collapsed slowly on top of Andrew. Coughing, Andrew pushed him away.

"Did I kill him?" Helen whispered hoa.r.s.ely, still holding the rock in both her hands.

Andrew checked Robert's pulse. "No, you only stunned him... Helen, you saved my life."

He tried to take her in his arms, but she resisted, pushing him away.

"No, Andrew, don't. He may not be alone."

Her call brought a timely reminder of their danger. Not only might Robert regain consciousness any time, but they could still be trapped if he hadn't come alone. Andrew removed Robert's kerchief and tied his hands tightly behind his back. He used the cord of Roberts trews to tie his legs. In the meantime, Helen cautiously went outside to check.

"He came alone," she said after crawling back in. "Andrew, you have to flee. If Robert doesn't return to the clachan, they'll surely search for him."

"I can't walk back to Killin-not yet. Where's my horse?"

"It's at the clachan."

"Do you think that you could bring it to me?"

She hesitated for a moment. There was no way she could get it away during the day. "I'll try to bring it tonight... Andrew, why didn't you leave? Why did you come back?"

"Because I love you. Life without you isn't worth living. I only regret that I now put you into danger too... Helen, come with me! Come with me to America!"

She didn't want to answer. What could she say that she hadn't said before? He reached for her, but she quickly ducked into the cave entrance, saying: "I'll be back tonight." And then she left.

She was jumpy and apprehensive all day. Would she be able to get Andrew's horse away from the clachan without anybody noticing it? The dogs might raise the alarm, unless they recognized her, but she would rather not get that close to the cottages. And what about Robert? She would have to free him after Andrew was away safely. He might harm her. Maybe it would be better to tell her father where to find him.

But what would her father do to her when he found out? He had a violent streak, and it wasn't beyond him to harm her. He might even kill her. Would mother protect her? A shudder went up her spine when she thought of her mother's betrayal. Was she willing to have her own son killed, even help in his killing? Should she tell her he was not her son or would it only make things worse?

The day pa.s.sed slowly. She didn't confide in Betty, who wanted to know if Andrew had been found yet, saying that she hoped he got away safely.