Though tired, she knew he had to be even more exhausted. Given her fear of being caught, she was not even tempted to fall asleep. Besides, her hands ached from gripping his mane so tightly.
Hours later, she noticed dawn light shimmering at the horizon.
He headed for a copse of trees and stopped. Though stiff and achy, she dismounted. When she stepped away from him, she felt she'd suddenly slipped through a crack in the ice of a frozen loch. A severe shiver convulsed her body, and she shrieked from the cold.
He moved his head toward her as if he wanted to be petted. When she touched him, the bitter cold evaporated. "Saints, Torr. What magic do you hold?"
She stroked his muzzle and his forehead. He watched her, his green eyes glowing in the predawn dimness.
The wind that had passed swiftly over them had dried his mane and coat. Her hair was mostly dry, but her clothing was still damp.
He nickered and trotted away toward the wood.
At the sudden chill, she sucked in a hissing breath. "Where are you going? I'm freezing!"
He stopped a short distance away, behind low-growing gorse bushes, shook himself, then reared and neighed. Green light glowed around him. It grew so blinding and intense she squinted, then closed her eyes against it.
At the sound of a man's groan, she opened her eyes but did not see him at first.
"Torr?" she whispered.
He arose, the bushes hiding part of his nude human form.
"Can you toss me my plaid?" he asked. His upper body was glorious with all those honed muscles.
Forcing her gaze away from him, she snapped her mouth closed. "Aye." After removing his sheathed sword from the bag, she strode forward, closer to the prickly bush, and lobbed the satchel containing his clothing toward him.
He caught it and pulled out his shirt, plaid, and belt. "I hope we lost my cousins. I took a different route. If they show up at my brother's, I've nay inkling what he'll tell them."
Torr pulled the long shirt over his head, then flicked a glance at Cat, silent for once. A slight blush stained her cheeks. Had his shifting distressed her, or was her discomfort because he was unclothed? At least she couldn't see his whole naked body. He was certain that would've shocked her speechless since she was an innocent. 'Twas why he'd made sure a bush was partially hiding him.
"Is aught amiss?" he asked. "Why are you so quiet?"
She cleared her throat. "I am... well... um, just trying to figure out how I feel about you being a horse all night and my use of you for transportation."
"Kelpie," he corrected.
"Aye, but a kelpie is a horse, right?"
"If you say so." He belted his plaid about his waist.
"Did your clothing get wet in the satchel?"
"Damp, but 'twill suffice." He emerged from behind the bush, took his sporran and boots from the satchel, and put them on. Then, he donned his baldric and the sheathed basket-hilt sword. "Come, there's an inn nearby where we can rest. Since we must travel at night, this will be better. Besides, the MacAuleys will nay find us here so easily."
Her brow furrowed. "Do you think they will keep trying to capture me?"
"I'll tell them 'twas one of Finnian's harmless potions. Or, if necessary, I'll have my brother speak with them."
"Do they ken you're a kelpie?"
"Some of them know about the curse—the chief, for instance—but never speak of it. My cousins keep it quiet to protect themselves as well as me."
He took her hand, and she gasped.
She stared up at him in wonder. "How do you do that?"
Not knowing what she was talking about, he frowned. "Do what?"
