A Highlander’s Homecoming (6 page)

“Other rumors?” Robert had read of them in history
books. He knew that later they’d be persecuted as a people, driven from many places, and called by a variety of names, including gypsy.

“Aye. Many of the Tinklers are thought to have connections with the Fae.”

“Mother
 
 . . .” What could he say to her? He couldn’t very well tell her the Fae didn’t exist. Coming from him, that would be a lie she’d see through all too easily.

After a moment of silence, she picked up the thread of her story as if it had never been interrupted. “To appease me, my father looked for the woman. Though we searched down many alleys that day, we never found any sign of her. And even at that age, even without having heard the rumors, I kenned the truth of what she was.”

“What she was?” he echoed quietly, knowing before she spoke what his mother would say next.

“She was Fae, Robbie. Telling me of my future. Sending me safely back to my family that day that I might fulfill some purpose for the Fae later in my life. She protected me.” His mother straightened in her chair with another smile. “As, of course, we’ll help you protect yer Leah.”

“Divine luck was with you that day, my lady, that the Fae you met was kindly. No all of them are. Some who walk this world are fair evil and dangerous to their core.”

“As with Mortals, no? You find yer good and yer bad in everything.” Margery tilted her head to the side, appearing to study her son. “I always believed you to be the reason the Faerie saved me that day.”

“What?” His mother’s words caught him off guard.

“From the moment I first felt you move within my belly, I believed you to be the one the Fae awaited. It’s why I was so sure you had to be alive, no matter what they told me. No matter how long you’d been gone. I kenned the Fae had a purpose for you, Robbie.”

His mother was wrong, of course. The Fae hadn’t enough care for him to allow him to return to the proper time to keep his oath to a dying friend. Not enough care to allow him to rescue a small lass waiting for a father who would never return. It was obvious they had no more use for him than as a delivery boy.

“It’s no me, mother. It’s Leah. The Fae she encountered were no the kindly ones. They ill-used the poor lass in many a horrendous way. I felt she’d be safe here. Safe to grow and recover with yer gentle help, if you’ll give it now that you ken the truth.”

“If?” His mother’s eyes widened with her indignant disbelief. “Robert. You should no have the least bit of doubt in this matter. Especially now that I do ken the truth. For all the world to see, she’s yer daughter, and we’ll raise her as such. She’ll be cared for all her days, Fae or no.”

“I’m not Fae!” Leah stood in the doorway, her face red in her anger. “I won’t be. I renounce that part of me. I refuse to be something so horrible.”

As tears trickled down the girl’s cheeks, his mother hurried to her side, wrapping her arms around Leah.

“There, there, lass,” she soothed. “Dinna you fash yerself over it. It matters no in the least. Yer home with us now. Yer a daughter of the House MacQuarrie and you’ve nothing to fear ever again.”

Robert rose from his chair and headed toward the
door, intending to leave the two women to bond in the way of women. His mother’s voice caught him just before he made his escape.

“You’ll want to speak to yer father, Robbie. He’s much to tell you. You’ll want to know about Richard as well.”

He looked back to see his mother leading Leah toward a chair by the fire, her low voice a reassuring murmur.

Though he felt as if half the weight of the world had been slipped from his shoulders, unease still rode him as he made his way down to find his father.

Now he faced the uncomfortable task of sharing with his parents that he was about to leave again on his quest to find his friend’s child. No, he caught himself in that thought. Isabella wouldn’t be a child any longer. He was twenty years too late to help the child Isabella. He could only pray he wasn’t too late to help the adult she’d become.

From the conversation he’d just had with his mother, he sincerely doubted he’d be able to do that without telling them everything. Though
everything
would be a large bite for them to swallow.

Still, he could hardly expect their assistance if he didn’t plan to offer them his honesty.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Leah anymore. His mother, amazing woman that she is, would handle that from now on. The girl couldn’t ask for better from her own mother.

One female settled in safely, one more to find. Only when he could assure himself of Isabella MacGahan’s well-being would he feel truly at peace.

Chapter 5
 

Blood and slime spattered her dress, her face, her hair. It covered her arms from elbow to fingertips.

Isabella MacGahan couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy.

When she’d first stumbled upon the young ewe trapped in the drop-off between the rocky outcroppings, she hadn’t known the animal was so near giving birth. That realization had come only after she’d freed the sheep and it had followed her home.

Obviously her grandfather’s shepherds hadn’t cared enough for one missing ewe to bother after this poor creature. They’d abandoned her to make her own way, much as Isa’s grandfather had absolved himself of any responsibility for her.

Their loss, her gain. Though whether her thought was to the sheep’s situation or her own, Isa refused to explore.

“No matter. You’ve a home here now, dearling, and you’ll have a name, too, as soon as I think on it a bit. You and yer wee bairn both.” Isa smiled down at the tired ewe, busily cleaning her wobbly-legged babe.

Come to think of it, she could do with some cleaning up herself.

With a satisfied smile, she left the animal shed and headed around the building to her own tiny home. A good soak in a hot tub would be lovely for her tired muscles, too. She could feel the strain of the last few hours’ hard work in her shoulders even now.

The ewe was lucky to be alive. She might be small but her babe certainly wasn’t. Everything about the birth had appeared normal at the start of her labor. The nose and two black hooves had emerged first, but then one leg had gone crooked and Isa had been forced to pull the lamb’s shoulders free. With what Isa had convinced herself was a grateful look from the exhausted ewe, the mother had managed the rest of the delivery on her own.

Still, Isa felt a marvelous exultation at the role she’d played in the event. She’d helped bring a new life into the world this day.

How could she not be happy? Spring was in the air with the smell of warming earth rising around her. As she followed the muddy dirt path around to the entrance of her little cabin, the sun burst from behind the clouds that had blanketed the sky for the past several days.

Isa turned her face up, halting her steps for a moment to bathe in the heated glow. A tiny shard of guilt flickered through her mind but she determinedly batted it away as she might a pesky midge.

If it was supposed to rain, the clouds would return soon. Besides, it had already rained for days. Her
barrels were full. There was no lack of water. Whatever the cause of the sun’s hasty appearance, she welcomed it.

With a sigh, she made her way to her front door, stopping to scoop up the wooden bucket she’d need for carrying water in to heat for the bath she planned. She eyed the little bench in front of her home longingly, considering a small rest might be in order in spite of the dried mess on her body and clothing.

Until she heard the slow, steady step of an approaching horse.

“Bollocks,” she muttered under her breath as she dived through her front door, slamming it shut behind her.

Quickly she searched her memory. Could she have lost track of the days this badly? No, she wasn’t wrong. It had barely been a fortnight since her grandfather’s lad had been here last, delivering such goods as her grandfather decided to send.

She nudged a small wooden stool closer to the door and climbed up on it, lifting back the cloth that covered the tiny square hole cut high into her door. Through this opening she watched as the big horse carrying a small boy slowly made its way up her path.

“Mistress Isa?” the child called out, clearly searching for her. “Are you about?”

Isa leaned her forehead against the heavy door, an irritated sigh on her lips. Though she had no complaints about the lad himself, she thoroughly resented the interruption to her life he represented.

Why couldn’t the old laird leave her in peace? He’d never once hidden the fact that he had no use for her. He’d been overjoyed when she’d broached the subject of moving from the castle to live out here in this little cottage on her own. It had taken him no time at all to have his men build an animal shed and provide her with her own chickens and goats. Granted, he sent someone to check on her each month, but it was obvious to her he did so only to collect the goods she had to sell. Or perhaps out of a sense of guilt.

“Mistress Isa?” the lad yelled, his voice rising on what sounded like desperation as the first fat raindrops started to fall.

The weather had turned again. Isa climbed off her stool and kicked it to one side before opening the door a tiny crack, struggling to calm her irritation. Whatever the child’s purpose in being here, he’d certainly done nothing to justify her ire.

“Quite yer noise, Jamie,” she called, her eye fixed to the small opening. “You’ll frighten my animals and I’ll have no eggs or milk from them for days. What brings you out here?”

The boy rolled to his belly on the big horse’s back, sliding off to hit the ground feetfirst at a loping run, stopping only when he reached her door.

“His lairdship bids me bring you to the castle.” The child spoke almost in a whisper. As always, he tried so hard to please.

She would say no to any other who carried her grandfather’s bidding. Likely the laird understood this and sent the lad to ensure her compliance.

Before someone had decided Jamie was old enough
to make the trek from the castle on his own, he’d accompanied his grandmother, Auld Annie. This in itself was something Isa had planned to bring to his grandmother’s attention the next time she spoke to her. The lad still seemed awfully small to be sent out alone on such a long trip.

“Please come, Isa.” His voice quivered and he turned wide eyes to her before jerking his head away, keeping his face turned from her in a manner that broke her heart. “Master Roland says I’ll have a beating if I dinna bring you in front of the laird today.”

“Master Roland says that, does he?”

Isa felt her temper spike anew. Roland Lardiner, her grandfather’s right hand and a distant cousin to her own father, overstepped his bounds with a threat such as that. It wouldn’t surprise her one little bit to learn that weasel of man was behind the decision to start sending this wee child off on his own. She didn’t trust Roland and, worse, didn’t doubt for one moment he’d do exactly as he threatened if she didn’t return with Jamie.

“Very well,” she sighed, opening the door to allow the boy inside as thunder rumbled threateningly through the valley. “Sit yerself down by the fire while I prepare meself. Are you hungry?”

As if she needed to ask. The child was always starved. If she were ever blessed with such a son, he’d never go hungry. She’d see to that.

She pushed away the silly thought. A child of her own was naught but a dream, destined never to come to pass.

She poured a glass of milk fresh from this morning and set it in front of him, along with a large hunk of
bread and piece of cheese. He smiled up at her, forgetting for a moment to shield his face from her.

The ugly burn scar marring the entire right side of Jamie’s rosy face all but closed off the vision in his eye.

How could anyone treat a child so ill, especially a child who had suffered as much as this one had in his short life?

As if she needed to ask that question. They were men of the MacGahan, after all. Men so unlike her own father had been it was hard to accept her birthright to the clan.

She turned from the boy, yanking the ties from her hair and pulling it from its neat braid. A crazed woman would never take such care with her appearance. Free of their binding, her curls sprang wild, covering her face and spreading about her shoulders like a bright cape.

The mess dried on her hands and arms itched and pulled at her skin, but it would be best to leave it rather than clean it off. It suited her purpose all too well.

Still not quite enough, though.

She marched over to the fireplace, lifting a double handful of cooled ashes from the metal bucket she kept there. After sprinkling them into her hair, she wiped her hands over her face and turned to Jamie.

“Well? How do I look?”

“As you always do when you go to them,” he responded around a mouthful. “Mayhap even worse than most times.”

“Good. Slow yerself down there, lad,” she cautioned as the boy stuffed another large bite into his already stuffed mouth. “We’ve no a need for you to rush through yer food. I’m no of a mind to leave until yer completely finished.”

“Is there time for me to visit the goats?”