A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 20

Micara found herself stealing glances at Calen as they travelled. When by chance their eyes met if he happened to be looking in her direction, there was a slight hitch in her breath. It was as wonderful as it was alarming. She would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the confusing sensation his attention caused, but her delight was followed closely by a faint touch of panic.

Calen, at least the side of him that he had shown her, was rude, arrogant, temperamental, and stubborn. He had shown contempt towards her upbringing, her lifestyle, and her general personality. As of late, his behaviour towards her had changed, but Micara kept herself prepared for the next hostile remark that would inevitably come from him. It was not human nature to change their manner so completely unless there was a specific reason for it, and she was not prepared to accept such a change blindly, nor search for the reason for it.

And so, they went on as routine. They travelled the days and camped the nights. Cara kept the knowledge of Calen's compliment to herself, and he continued to surprise her with his kind behaviour. As determined as she was to keep her guard in place, on several occasions she had to bolster her will to keep it from slipping before his charming smile.

It was a relief when they reached Montréal. Micara spent the day with Christian exploring the town while Will and Calen dealt with the trading posts, selling their furs. Christian led her around the growing town, pointing out its sights and soon to be buildings that were under construction. It would be Christian's last day with their group, for now that Calen was able to handle his own canoe again, Christian's help was unnecessary and he was free to pursue his contract with the new trading company.

Cara regretted that they were losing him, for she had grown to like him, and enjoyed his company on their voyage.

When Calen and Will concluded their business, they all four left the town. They camped within sight of it, just far enough away that they would not have to deal with the busyness contained within its limits.

When the fire had burned low and they had finished their supper, Calen took out his whistle. He began to play a lively tune, the melody reflecting the happy sentiments brought on from a successful and profitable day in trade.

Christian approached Micara, his hand outstretched in offering, "I am inspired to dance. Will you join me?"

Cara accepted his hand and allowed herself to be pulled alongside him in an unfamiliar set of steps. Calen continued to play and Will stepped in beside Christian, the two of them taking turns twirling her in time with the music.

By the time the music stopped, Cara was breathless, the fast tempo of the dance and her own merriment taking their toll on her. Before she could sit and rest, a new tune began. It was slower and more rhythmic that Calen's other songs. When Cara looked, she was surprised to see that it was not Calen at all that was playing, but Will.

Calen stood from his seat beyond the fire and crossed the campsite. He stopped in front of her and bowed slightly, his hand outstretched towards her.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, looking into his eyes, his voice low and calming.

Micara searched for words but none came to her. Her hand rose as if on its own accord and placed itself into his awaiting palm. He curled his fingers over her own and stepped closer. His other hand found her waist and they began to move in the firelight.

He did not pull and tug as Christian and Will had done, did not twirl or twist, or jig. He guided her as effortlessly and gracefully as he handled a canoe. They glided lightly as if they danced on a lake of still water. Calen seemed to know the camp's layout by heart. His eyes did not leave Micara's for even a single moment. Cara was glad he was leading, for she found herself as equally lost in his gaze. His stormy grey eyes seemed to hold her captive. She could not look away, and in fact found that she did not want to.