A Highlander’s Homecoming (30 page)

The fantasy she’d allowed herself to construct, the cozy home with Robbie and Jamie and maybe even a baby one day—none of it would come to pass now.

He’d hidden a daughter and a wife from her.

Even in her misery, her conscience wouldn’t let her be.

Who was she to hold him accountable for keeping secrets when she hadn’t bothered to tell him her own? They’d walked for hours together on that long road. She’d had nothing
but
opportunity to tell Robbie what she’d done.

And who was she to blame him for shattering the fantasy she’d never had any right to create from the beginning? She herself had done that by her own actions. Even if no wife waited for Robbie at the end of their travels, it made no difference.

A husband waited for her back at Castle MacGahan.

Her husband.

The bone-jarring movement of the wagon rolled to a
stop, the lack of motion unsettling after so long a ride. As discreetly as possible, Isa wiped her eyes and then pushed herself up to sit. She might as well make herself useful because she certainly wasn’t going to get any more rest.

Beside her, Jamie stirred and opened his eyes. The bandage Esther had applied to his cheek earlier hung askew and Isa could see at once that the child’s injuries were worse. The skin was swollen and red.

“Have we arrived?” he asked, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I dinna think so. No yet. I’d guess we’re stopping for the night, lad.”

“I’ll see.” Jamie turned over, crawling on all fours to the flap, where he slid out feetfirst.

Isa followed more slowly, heading for the second wagon the moment her feet touched the ground.

Robbie lay in the second wagon.

“Mistress Isabella.”

The man who’d called her name, Ralph Faas, William’s older brother, hurried toward her. It was his wife, Esther, who had done all she could do to treat both Jamie and Robbie.

“William asked me to tell you no to stray too far from the wagons because we doona stop for the night. We’re only going to water the horses and give them a few hours’ rest before we start out again. My Esther says yer Guardian canna afford the delay of a full night on the road.”

Isa’s thank-you was lost on Ralph, who’d already turned his back, heading off to tend to the animals.

As she reached the second wagon, Esther was climbing down.

“That was a long ride,” she sighed, sending a tired smile back up toward Editha, who crouched at the opening, her small son in her arms. “I’ll hurry back to watch over Sean for you so you can have a stretch of yer legs as well.”

“I’ll watch him for you. Go ahead with Esther,” Isa offered, her arms fairly itching to hold the little boy.

“Are you sure? He sleeps at the moment, but he’s rare fussy with his back teeth coming in. Only being held seems to help him sleep.”

“I’m sure.”

Editha moved to the side of the opening, allowing Isa to climb inside before handing over the sleeping child. With a grateful smile, she left them.

The interior of this wagon was exactly the same as that of the other, packed with goods to sell and provisions to keep the families going on their travels. A pallet was tucked into the front, identical to the one she and Jamie had slept on.

Robbie lay very still, his chest bare save for the great bandage swathed around his ribs.

Isa made her way over to him, balancing the sleeping toddler against her shoulder as she stretched out her hand to feel his forehead.

The skin under her touch was hot and clammy. Though Isa made no claims to any knowledge of healing, she was sure this wasn’t a good thing.

The child in her arms slept soundly, his little mouth slightly open even after she’d managed to situate herself onto a spot on the floor next to Robbie.

She leaned her face down to the child’s, delighting in the soft feel of his sweet breath tickling her face.
Tracing a finger lightly over Sean’s cheek, she marveled at the soft, smooth texture of his skin.

“Quite a picture, you with that babe in yer arms. Like a natural mother, you are.”

Isa started, looking up to find Robbie’s eyes fixed on her.

“I thought you slept,” she whispered, mindful of not waking the child. “How do you feel? Is the poultice helping?”

Esther had combined a variety of herbs and powders such as Isa had never seen before into a pasty mix that she had smeared across Robbie’s wound before wrapping it tightly with a bandage.

He completely ignored her question.

“Jamie came in to see me moments ago. His injuries are no healing properly. His face shows signs of infection, and since we’ve no medicine, you must promise to have Leah see to him first.”

He was panting as he finished speaking, as if so many words had taken more than he was capable of giving. Words that obviously came from the brainsickness of his fever because they made no sense.

“Promise me,” he hissed, trying to pull himself up to one elbow.

“You have my oath on it,” she answered, fearful he’d injure himself even more if he kept this up. “I’ll have yer . . . yer Leah see to Jamie first.”
Daughter
had stuck in her throat, as if her heart would not allow her to form the word.

“Good,” he sighed, lying back down as if satisfied with her answer.

For long moments it was silent in the wagon save for
the baby’s gentle snore and Robbie’s labored breathing.

“When we reach the keep, there’s one more thing I need you to do for me.”

His voice breaking the silence startled her. She’d been so sure he’d slept, she hadn’t realized he was simply gathering his strength until he lifted his head, his eyes glassy in his determination to speak.

“Anything, Robbie. But you must save yer strength now.” She reached out a hand to him and he grabbed on, holding much tighter than she would have expected him to be capable of.

“You and Jamie are to have a home there, Isa. No matter what happens to me, you ken? Yer to stay there where you’ll be safe. When you find my mother. Tell her yer my wife, aye? They’ll look after you there.”

“You mean you dinna have a wife waiting for you?” She wanted to bite her tongue, but the words were already out there, spewed from her mouth before she had time to censor herself.

“No wife,” he panted, his head dropping back to the cushion, his eyes closed. “Only you.”

“But what of yer . . . daughter?” She forced herself to say the word, somehow made less painful by the knowledge there was no wife. “Why have you no told me of her?”

“Leah’s story is her own, no mine, to be told or no as she chooses.”

How could his daughter’s story not be his? Isa started to ask but Esther returned, with Editha following her.

The first woman carefully climbed up into the wagon so as not to spill any water from the pot she carried. When she reached them, she dipped a small cloth into
the water and wrung it out before placing it on Robbie’s forehead.

Editha took the peacefully sleeping child from Isa’s arms before sitting down beside her.

“You’d best stretch yer own legs for a bit, Mistress Isabella. The last part of our journey will carry us through the night with few stops, but William says by morning we’ll reach MacQuarrie Keep.”

Isa nodded, and climbed down from the wagon. She wandered over to the edge of the stream, scanning the area for Jamie’s whereabouts.

She found him at last, sitting on the bank, throwing rocks into the water with Ewan, Ralph and Esther’s son.

A wave of guilt washed over her as she watched the child. He needed to know what had happened to his grandmother. But not now. She couldn’t face breaking such horrible news to him after all the trauma he’d suffered. She couldn’t bear to add to his burden or to see him even sadder. Once they reached Robbie’s home, after both Robbie and Jamie were healed, there would be time. She and Robbie would tell the child together.

A shiver ran down her spine, the shock of realization slamming into her. Perhaps Robbie had felt this same way when he’d chosen not to tell
her
of Annie’s murder?

No wonder she’d fought unsuccessfully for years to learn control of her emotions. How could she hope to control what she felt when she was so blind to the feelings of others?

As she watched, Ewan brought more rocks over to where Jamie sat, as if he realized his young companion hadn’t the strength to gather them for himself.

Odd how these people, these tinklers who were scorned everywhere they went, had accepted them so easily and had shown them such kindness. She only hoped they would find this same sort of acceptance where they headed.

Jamie and her both.

Chapter 29
 

When Robert had referred to his home as MacQuarrie Keep, Isa had expected something much smaller than this imposing structure with the waters of the loch lapping at its back.

She lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the early morning sun, growing more frustrated by the minute as William argued with the guardsman on the wall denying them entrance.

“We’ve no need for tinklers here. Be on yer way!” the man yelled down for the third time.

Bollocks on this.

Isa pushed past William, her temper taking the lead.

“I’ve come to see Leah MacQuarrie,” she yelled up at him. “I’ve her father in this wagon and he’s hurt. If yer no going to open these gates, then get yer lazy arse down the backside of that wall and get her up there.”

The guardsman stood for a moment as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“Do it now, you witless worm!” she screamed, stomping her foot to emphasize her point.

Not very ladylike to be sure, but she had a dying man and a sick child to consider, so whoever wanted to could criticize her later—she simply didn’t have time for them right now.

“Well done, my lady,” William whispered, arriving at her side as the chains holding the portcullis began to scrape against the stone.

“Enter,” the guard yelled down, and from his tone, Isa was quite sure the man was none too pleased.

Isa ran along ahead of the wagons, surprised to find two women hurrying across the bailey toward her, one young and one considerably older.

“My apologies, my tinkler friends,” the older woman said, taking Isa’s hand in hers. “I am Margery MacQuarrie and I bid you welcome. The young man on the wall hasn’t been with us long enough to have learned we never turn tinklers away. He said you have my son with you?”

Robbie’s mother.

She was supposed to tell this woman she was Robbie’s wife. She’d agreed to his request to do so. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But they weren’t the words that came out.

“Aye, he’s badly hurt and in need of special care.”

The women asked no more questions, neither of them. They simply ran to the wagon where William and Ralph were helping Robbie to the ground.

“What have you done to yerself this time, lad?” Margery exclaimed, running to her son. “Hugh! Get
those men over here to help. Leah! Come with me. We’ll take them to Robbie’s chambers.”

Isa stepped back, feeling suddenly out of place. She considered climbing back into one of the wagons until a small, hot hand slipped into hers and she remembered her promise to Robbie.

“Come on, Jamie,” she urged, pulling the boy forward. “Wait. Leah?”

The girl slowed, turning back to look at her with obvious suspicion in her eyes. “Yes?”

“Yer father made me give an oath to ask you to have a look a Jamie’s injuries before you treated his own.” She pushed the boy in front of her and toward Leah.

“Before I . . .” Leah’s words trailed off. “Oh no. He did
not
think I was going to . . . well, of course he did. It is Robert, after all. I should have known.” She came to a full stop and her head dropped as if she studied the ground at her feet.

What was wrong with the girl? Did she not want to help her own father?

“Esther, the tinkler, said Robbie’s injuries were beyond her abilities. She said his only hope was a born healer. Robbie . . . yer father, that is . . . said you were one such.”

Jamie backed up against her as if he sought to hide in her skirts and she put her arms around the trembling boy, rubbing her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. To comfort herself.

Leah’s eyes darted toward the hand on Jamie’s shoulder, and for a moment Isa thought she wasn’t going to reply.

“You’re Isabella, aren’t you? You’re the one he came back for.”

Of all the things Isa expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them.

“Leah!” Margery called from the top of the stairs.

“Coming!” Leah yelled back. “Come on, you and the kid, both. We’ll sort this all out upstairs.”

One thing was certain. Though Leah MacQuarrie might not favor her father’s looks in the least, her speech was every bit as confusing as his.

Isa and Jamie followed the girl through the castle and up the stairs. By the time they reached the bedchamber, the men who’d helped get Robbie into bed were coming out of the room.

“She says Robert wanted the boy taken care of first,” Leah said to Margery as they entered.

“That sounds like something I might expect from my son,” Margery murmured, flattening out the covers over Robbie. “And who are you that he’d give you this message to deliver?”