Page 19 of Forever My Lass

“I wasn’t on that ship. At least not the one out there on the rocks. I was on a sailboat called Destiny’s Dream. It was supposed to—”

“Where did you board Destiny’s Dream?” Iain’s abrupt question startled her, but it was the abrasive sound of his voice that made her jump. Rigid in his seat, Iain’s features were no longer open and pleasant. His face now looked as if someone had chiseled it out of stone.

“In Aberdeen.”

“Aberdeen?” Although his features were still grim, there was a bewilderment in his voice as he continued to mutter to himself. “Why would McLeod sail down the coast instead of making port in Aberdeen?”

“Who’s McLeod?” Madeline frowned in confusion.

“The captain of Destiny’s Dream.”

Clearly distracted, he continued to talk to himself in a quiet rumble of sound. She had no idea why he was so upset, but she knew good and well the captain’s name of the boat she’d been on hadn’t been McLeod.

“The captain of the sailboat I was on was Captain Mury.”

“That’s not possible.” He dismissed her statement with a sharp gesture of his hand, his eyes narrowing in anger at her. “Captain McLeod has been the master of Destiny’s Dream for the past five years.”

“Well, the captain of the ship I was on was Captain Mury.”

Iain sprang to his feet at her fierce rebuttal. He shook his head as his mouth thinned into a tight line. Startled by his reaction, Madeline stiffened as he leaned over her until there were mere inches between them. She didn’t like that he intimidated her, but there was a ferocity about his anger that said he wasn’t a man to be crossed. Madeline quickly pressed herself back into the bed’s headboard in an attempt to put some distance between them. It only gained her an inch.

“Either your memory is failing or ye are lying, and I dinnae tolerate liars, woman.”

The abrasive accusation astonished Madeline, and she stared at him in stunned silence for a moment as she came to grips with the fact that he’d just called her a liar. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed his brogue had thickened a great deal more than when he had been calm and quiet. It was a mere blip on her radar as she clenched her jaw in anger and leaned forward slightly to put her face closer to his. It was a pitiful attempt at intimidation, but it demonstrated she intended to stand her ground.

“I am not a liar,” she bit out fiercely. “And my memory is not failing. I distinctly remember Captain Mury spelling out his last name M-U-R-Y.”

The sudden, vivid image of the captain’s gray features and slack-jawed look of horror as he’d stared over her shoulder filled Madeline’s head. He must have seen the huge wave headed straight for them and realized the boat would not be able to remain upright on the water.

Instantly, all the memories of her terrifying ordeal came rushing back at her, and an icy chill coated her skin. Madeline closed her eyes and shuddered as those last moments on the Destiny’s Dream replayed in her head in graphic detail.

It was as if some cruel part of her brain was taunting her by showing her the events in slow motion. The giant wave crashing down on her before it rolled the boat over, as if it were a toy. The way her arms had flailed, trying to find something to hold on to as she’d gone sliding across the deck toward the sea.

The fleeting sensation of cold metal brushing across her fingertips before she was tossed into the freezing water mocked her. As the churning water engulfed her, the icy temperature made her gasp in shock. Looking upward, she saw the wood planks of the deck heading toward her as the sailboat flipped over.

The moment her head slammed into the deck. She cried out in pain, only to have the sea rush in and steal her breath away. Plunged back into that horrifying moment, Madeline found herself choking and gasping for air, while her body became as cold as the water she’d been pulled from. Still caught up in the horror of those traumatic moments, she barely heard Iain’s sharp oath pierce the air.

A shiver streaked through her as the terror of the accident sent her heart racing out of control. Her tremor was quickly followed by another and another until she was shuddering violently. In seconds, Iain removed the dinner tray from her bed and seated himself beside her.

“It’s all right, lass. It’s over now. You’re safe.”

The gentle reassurance in his voice was accompanied by a sinewy arm wrapped around her. A second later, the hard warmth of his body engulfed her. Despite the soothing note in his voice, she continued to tremble against him. The heat of Iain’s body penetrated her clothing and sank into her pores until her tremors slowly eased.

But his warmth wasn’t enough to push aside the memory of how desperately she’d prayed to live, as she had breathed in the dank air in that pitch-black pocket beneath the ship. Then there had been the battle with the waves as she’d struggled to reach the rocks, only to be pushed back down below the water, one wave after another.

If not for him pulling her out of the water, she would have drowned. Quickly following on the heels of that thought was a tendril of something darker that whispered in the back of her head. Madeline quickly buried it. The possibility was too horrible to even consider. Unable to hold back the tears pushing against her eyelids, she sobbed into a broad shoulder. Immediately, Iain’s strong arm tightened around her.

“It will be all right, Madeline. I promise you that, lass.” The soft reassurance in his voice was a quiet, sturdy sound. “Everything will be all right.”

She’d known the man for less than a day, but his comfort and silent understanding made her cling to him as she pressed her face into his jacket. Madeline had never had a man console her like this before, not even Martin, who’d said he loved her. The entire time they’d been together, she’d learned to comfort herself because she couldn’t rely on Martin for moral support of any kind.

Madeline started to sob harder as she remembered her grandmother was the reason she was in Scotland in the first place. After several moments, her tears subsided, and Madeline pushed herself away from Iain’s chest to sit up straight. A moment later, a handkerchief was pressed into her hand. Madeline wiped her tears away as she met Iain’s dark blue eyes.

“Lord, I’m not usually such a crybaby,” she sniffled.

“A what?” The puzzlement on his face tugged a small smile to Madeline’s mouth as she sniffed again.

“Someone who cries all the time, wanting attention.” Her explanation made him nod with understanding as he slowly moved from the mattress to the chair he’d been sitting in earlier.