Journey with Joe (Middlemarch Capture Book 5) Page 6

  “Take a quick bath while the water is hot. I will organize food packed and a group of men to help ye with Mungo,” Reilynn said.

  “Reilynn.”

  “Aye?”

  “Thank ye for the joyous news. We will celebrate once we’ve delivered the lass, and she is out of our hair.”

  “Aye.” Reilynn closed the space between them and wound her arms around her husband’s neck, allowing herself one passionate kiss before she stepped back. “Carry that with ye.”

  “I will, lass.”

  Reilynn swished from the chamber, not allowing her temper to show until she was out of Aengus’s sight. She stamped down the staircase and made the necessary arrangements for her husband.

  Blast Mungo. Once, just once, couldnae the contrary lass follow orders?

  * * * * *

  Mungo dawdled. The slower she sauntered, the quicker her brother could catch the herd. Her father and other brothers might have arrived home. Her stomach swooped, and an icy cold shiver tiptoed down her spine. Perhaps she wouldnae receive a punishment for this wee mishap. She whispered a short prayer, focusing on her father’s mood.

  Meanwhile, she needed the cat-men to relax before she risked an escape. Stealing her herd back on her own wasn’t feasible. She kenned that now. But as soon as reinforcements arrived, she’d liberate her coos. Then, once she reached home, she’d spirit them away to the secret valley for safety. And if her father sold her coos to another once she’d recovered them, she’d stealthily reave one or two of her father’s beasts in retribution. Sneakiness was the key.

  She couldnae trust her younger brothers any more than she did the cat-men. Her best weapon—sly intelligence to best the simple-minded males.

  Mungo stepped onto the track and spied Joe waiting for her.

  “I’d almost decided you were making a break for freedom.”

  Mungo didn’t reply. She raised her nose in the air and trudged away from the confusing cat-man, following the hoof prints of her coos while her mind fashioned a plan.

  “Are you sulking?” He sounded interested.

  “I dinnae sulk.”

  “So if we argue and I win, you will continue to speak to me.”

  “When I win the argument,” she countered, “I willnae have any need to brood.”

  Joe barked out a laugh, and she gaped at the faint crinkles around his eyes, the flash of white teeth. His chuckle apprised her of her staring, and mortified, she ripped away her gaze, her heart racing, and her stomach hollowing. Heat collected in her cheeks.

  “What are your hobbies?” he asked.

  “Hobbies?”

  “The things you enjoy doing during your day,” he explained.

  “Oh.” Mungo considered her cycles at the keep. “When I must stay inside, I work in the kitchen with our cook, Janeet.”

  “Is the food you cook tasty?”

  “Aye.” Mungo lifted her chin. “Janeet says I am a natural. She taught me from a young age.”

  “My mother is an excellent cook,” Joe said. “As is Eva, Saber’s mate. Eva owns restaurants on Dalcon.”

  Mungo had heard tales of Dalcon, their nearest planet, but no one in her clan had visited since they lacked the means of transport. “Have ye seen Dalcon?”

  “Yes, several times, and we lived there before we moved to Ione Island.”

  “Father said there is a spaceport on the west coast of the Tiraq mainland, but the journey to the spaceport is at least thirty cycles from our keep.”

  “We have our own ships and spaceport,” Joe said.

  She gawped at him, her mind unable to calculate the wealth required for such things. “Ye must have much currency.”

  “Not really,” Joe said. “The port was there when we arrived since the previous owners of the resort required a way for guests to come and go. After we arrived, we repaired the buildings and cleared the paths and spaceport. It took many months of work before we reopened the resort. Have you visited Ione Island? It’s different from the mainland.”

  “Nay, this is the farthest I’ve traveled from Caimbeulach keep.” Interested despite herself, she glanced at him. Their gazes connected and that weird, troubling heat sped to her cheeks.

  “Should I tell you more of the island?”

  “Aye,” she agreed, glad of the distraction.

  “Ione Island is large as islands go. The Middlemarch resort is on the eastern side. The coastline is perfect to attract tourists. We have beaches with white sand and jade-green waters safe for swimming. The resort has a tropical atmosphere with paths winding between gardens full of plants and flowers. The guests stay in bungalows with thatched roofs. We have special dinners and social mixers during the evenings. Sometimes barbecues. During the day, guests can swim at the beach or lounge around the swimming pool. They can relax in the spa and get a skin treatment or a massage. Many of the women enjoy visiting our shop for clothes or shoes or jewelry, and they use the holo rooms and other activities on offer.”

  Mungo listened to him describe his home. He used words and terms she dinnae ken.

  “Saber, my oldest brother, is in charge. Thanks to him, we have a safe place to live. It was his idea to leave Earth after the feline virus hit. Many of our people succumbed to the virus before we left New Zealand. Leaving was a risk, and it has taken time for us to settle, but I believe it was the right decision.”

  “What did ye do on Earth?”

  Joe’s face creased into a frown but the expression smoothed out to enthusiasm. “Sly and I owned land. We raised cattle and sheep and had discussed purchasing alpacas. We grew crops and grapes.”

  “Ye left yer farm?”

  “Saber proposed his plan to everyone who’d survived the virus. Most of us lost friends and family. My brothers and sister were fine, but Saber’s fiancée died. Those of us who wished to leave Earth pooled our resources, and that’s why we all own a share of the resort. Sly and I sold our animals and farm equipment. There wasn’t time to find a purchaser for our land, so we walked away. It was a difficult decision.”

  “Do ye have regrets?” Mungo couldnae imagine willingly leaving her coos. They were the reason she’d ended up in this mess, yet if she made the decision again, her actions wouldnae differ.

  “Of course we have misgivings. We’ve all made sacrifices to start this new life.”

  They caught the coos that wandered at an easy pace. The animals snatched mouthfuls of grass and shrubs on the move.

  Halfway through the cycle, the cat-men halted by a grassy clearing. A stream cut through the open land, and they allowed her coos to graze and drink their fill.

  “Swim first or eat?” Joe asked.

  Sam and Duncan were already naked and splashing in the water while Max and Kenan watched over her coos, chasing back any who drifted too far from the herd.

  Sweat trickled down her back, but she couldnae take off her clothes in front of the cat-men. It wasnae respectable.

  Joe grinned. “You can strip down to your underwear or jump in with your clothes. They will dry in this heat.”

  Her tunic reeked of mud and bore grass stains, which made her decision easy. “I’ll wash in my clothes.”

  Joe tugged his tight shirt over his head and dropped it on a clean patch of grass. “I have a clean T-shirt in my pack. You can borrow that if you want dry clothes after your swim.”

  Mungo nodded. “Is that a T-shirt?”

  “Yes.” He removed his boots, unfastened his trews and tugged them down his legs to reveal an unusual tight garment beneath. He removed that as well and naked, he held out his hand. “Mungo, are you ready?”

  Ach! Nay, he’d caught her staring. Instead of scolding, he smiled—a secretive grin that raised her curiosity. Then, he winked. Nonplussed, she clasped her fingers with his and averted her gaze from his naked body. Sometimes, the Scothage men removed their tunics while they trained. Few of them resembled Joe or his friends. The cat-men possessed many muscles and easy strength yet they had patience too.

  Whil
e her mind should focus on escape, she thought about Joe. Wondering.

  Shameful! Her father would snarl his disapproval, and she imagined her jeering brothers. Mayhap Reilynn and Janeet would share her fascination before the men chided them for their unseemly interest in the strangers.

  Joe tugged her closer to the stream.

  “Let me take off my boots,” she said.

  He nodded and with a whoop, leaped and landed in the water beside Sam with a huge splash. Shouts and laughter rang out as they cavorted in the stream.

  Envy seeped through Mungo at their unrestrained fun. Her brothers played this way, but she’d never had the chance.

  “Mungo, aren’t you coming in?” Joe shouted.

  “She’s too busy staring at your backside,” Duncan said.

  The warmth that struck her cheeks journeyed down her neck. Her breasts prickled weirdly as she yanked off her boots. Barefooted, she straightened and approached the water. She winced at the wee stones with their rough edges, biting into the soles of her feet.

  Sam cocked his head. “Mungo, are you swimming in your clothes?”

  “Aye. ’Tis not respectable for me to strip in front of others.”

  Sam shot a quick glance at Joe who grinned. “Did she call us indecent?”

  Mungo ignored them to step cautiously into the water, which bore a faint pink tinge. “’Tis cold!” she shrieked.

  Joe swam closer. “It’s not so bad once you’re under the surface. Wade in deeper, hold your breath and dip.”

  Mungo kenned he spoke the truth. The water came directly from the mountains and, if it was like the ones near the Caimbeulach keep, the temperature remained icy. Holding her breath, she waded deeper, the current stronger away from the bank. She slipped, her feet shot from under her, and she sat with a surprised squeak. The nippy water soaked through her clothing, chilling her to the bone.

  “I saw soapweed farther down the bank,” Sam said. “Should I get you some so you can wash your clothes?”

  Mungo blinked at the cat-man, speechless at his thoughtful offer. Once again, she contrasted these strangers with her siblings. Her brothers came up lacking.

  “Mungo? You have a strange expression on your face,” Joe said. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nay, of course not. Aye, please,” she said to Sam. “My clothes require a scrub. I had other trews and tunics, but my father ordered them burned. These were the ones I was wearing and I dinnae want to have them disappear when I sent them to the washerwoman.”

  Joe regarded her, watchful and alert. “Why did he do that?”

  “I dinnae ken. He’s never minded me wearing trews before.” Her father had never cared enough to pay attention to her routine. She picked up a handful of wee stones and rubbed them along the legs of her trews to clear the worst of the mud.

  Sam returned with the soapweed, and the subject changed.

  “You think we will arrive at the coast tomorrow?” Duncan asked.

  “Late tomorrow,” Joe said. “We’ll need to wait for the following day, for the moons to align and the tides to lower.”

  Mungo scoured her tunic and wriggled her hands under the wet fabric to wash under her arms and her breasts. She rejoiced at the cleanness of her skin, and as Joe had predicted, she no longer minded the water temperature.

  The cat-men discussed their plan and the condition of the coos, and she followed the conversation as best she could, some of their words unfamiliar.

  “I examined the cows this morning,” Sam said. “As far as I can see, only one is not in-calf. Our timing is perfect. Any later in the season, and I’d worry about swimming them between the end of the causeway and the island. They’re feeding well and not one beast is lagging.” Sam turned to Mungo. “What do you use to keep them free from worms? The other animals at the keep were skinny in comparison.”

  “The local healer helped me to make a mix of herbs. We grind the plants into a powder and I sprinkle it on grain meal.”

  “Why haven’t you informed your father? He could treat his cattle too,” Sam said.

  Mungo glanced at Joe and almost forgot to breathe such was the power of his green gaze. He wore interest and curiosity, and she got the sense he’d seek advice from male or female. He and his friends dinnae seem to disdain her because she was a lass. “I…” She cleared her throat. “My input is nay considered necessary. I am best suited to work within the keep.”

  “If your family treat you so badly why do you wish to return to them?” Joe demanded.

  “Reilynn and Janeet will worry,” Mungo said. Nothing less than the truth.

  “Both women,” Duncan noted. “What of your father? Your brothers? The men at the keep?”

  Mungo’s defenses shot up and her hands clenched a stalk of soapweed so hard it shot from her grip. She glared at Duncan. “Ye have no right to judge.”

  “I’m not judging. I’m asking for information to form my opinions.” Duncan finished his statement with a broad grin.

  Mungo gritted her teeth. “Reilynn is my stepmother. I love her verra much. Janeet is our cook. She taught me how to cook when I was young.”

  “Do you truly enjoy cooking?” Joe asked.

  “Aye. It fills the hours when I cannae be outdoors.”

  “What about friends?” Sam asked.

  Mungo waded from the water, eager for the whitelight on her skin and sopping clothes. Friends. The truth. She dinnae have any true friends. Reilynn spoke of traveling to visit other clans but her father forbade the journey, citing the uneasy peace as too fragile for safety. If he and her brothers and the neighboring clans ceased their reaving the Highlands might settle to peace.

  “What other treatments do you give your cows?” Joe asked, steering the conversation to something less challenging.

  “The healer helped me make a spray to kill the biting insects during the warmer weather. I have a salve for hooves and another to help heal cuts and grazes.”

  “What do you do if you have calving problems?” Sam asked.

  Mungo frowned, unsure of his meaning.

  “If your cows—coos—have trouble birthing,” Joe explained.

  “I saved my coos as newborns, and they havenae birthed before. The farmers give me the sick ones. The bull…” She trailed off with a shrug and attempted to contain her smugness.

  “That’s an evil grin, sweetheart,” Joe said. “Where did you get the bull?”

  She lifted her chin. “I freed him from my father’s herd. I heard my father say he wasnae doing well, and they might as well butcher him for the table.”

  Duncan laughed.

  “How did your brother claim your herd?” Joe asked. “He told us they belonged to him.”

  “I believe the other crofters spoke of my coos, saying how bonnie they were. It aroused curiosity. My guess is Father gave Adair permission to sell my coos.” It hurt her throat and pushed an ache through her heart to admit her family had conspired against her. Mayhap, the bull’s theft had shoved at her father’s pride. “I havenae asked directly.”

  “I’m sorry your father sold your cattle without your permission, sweetheart,” Joe said.

  Eagerness rose, pushing away her dour mood. “Will ye give them back?”

  Joe met her gaze without a flinch, and she read his answer before he spoke. “No, I promised my brother I’d get the cattle for both of us. He’s counting on me.”

  And that was that. Yet again, men took from her and her hard work was for naught.

  The cheerfulness of the group shifted after their swim. Joe handed her more dried strips, and she ate while she mulled over her life. No matter which option she chose she’d remain under the control of a man. Her father and brothers or Joe and his friends.

  Neither option suited her.

  She must escape and return home.

  From there, she’d plan a future that suited her better.

  Sam and Duncan washed the steed and groomed the striped creature while she, Joe, Max, and Kenan pushed the coos toward the coast
. Her coos behaved like bairns intent on impressing their parents, having quickly become used to the cat-men. She never glimpsed a cat-man beating the coos. They treated the steed with kindness as well while they all hunted to feed the owl they’d named Roly. These cat-men confused her, but that didnae mean she wished to remain their prisoner.

  The vegetation changed as they neared the coast. No longer did the trees tower above their heads. The forests gave way to more open ground while the landscape grew flatter. Mungo imagined the air bore different scents too. The glimpses of the sea came more often, and Mungo worried about her coos.

  She was running out of time. Tonight, she’d escape, and hopefully, her brother had followed to steal them back.

  Joe scrutinized Mungo, attuned to her introspection and scowls. The mood change had started after they’d discussed her father, her brothers, her family.

  Joe growled under his breath. He hadn’t liked her answers nor the picture he’d formed of her life. While she bore courage, her family was a constraint to her wellbeing. And because of her history, she didn’t understand all he offered her. A future full of freedom and love.

  The light faded, muting the bright landscape with darkness, but they pushed the herd on until they reached the clearing where he’d stashed materials to contain the cattle overnight.

  As was his habit, he checked each of his cows. They were coming to recognize him and stretched their necks toward him for a scratch or rub. Admiration filled him at Mungo’s achievement. She was a natural farmer, and it was obvious her father and brothers ignored her talent. The idiots didn’t see value in a woman.

  With the cattle settled for the evening, Joe made a fire while Max, Kenan, Duncan, and Sam went hunting for one or two of the rabbitlike creatures that lived on the coast. No doubt they’d search for micelets too.

  Less than an hour later, they sat around the fire and ate the roasted rabbit. Mungo ate in silence. After washing her hands in the nearby stream, she wrapped herself in her cloak and pretended to sleep.

  He chatted with his cousins before they settled for the evening. An hour passed. Two. Three.