Highland Chieftain (5 page)

She also smelled cinnamon. It was a heady smell that filled her lungs and warmed her. She realized it came from his desire and that was a heady knowledge. When he left her, his mouth moving to her neck, she sighed for that smell began to fade.

“That was, mayhap, nay the smartest thing I have done,” he said as he lifted his head to look at her, catching a look of embarrassment suddenly sweep over her. “Because,” he said quickly, “I have a broken leg.” He was relieved when she suddenly looked confused.

“I am nay touching it,” she murmured.

“Lass, kissing leads to more and I am in no state to do anything more.” He grinned when she blushed.

Bethoc pulled away from him. “I ne'er, I mean I wasnae expecting . . .” She shut up when he gave her a quick hard kiss.

“I rather suspicioned that. I was but referring to me and what I was feeling.”

She was not entirely sure what he meant but did not want to say so. It would also explain his scent. What occurred between men and women was a bit of a mystery to her. She knew of desire but not of what it entailed or what was done about it. It was enough to know the ending of the kiss was nothing to do with her, or, worse, how she kissed. She rather hoped she did well enough that he would wish to do it again soon.

“I had best leave as it must be near sunset by now.” She stood up and brushed down her skirts. “'Tis nay a good idea to be caught out after dark when ye are near the river.”

“I have heard a few things at night. Feared it was the men who had attacked me but the sounds never left the river.”

“Aye, smugglers most like.” She shrugged. “I am nay sure what some of them are doing but I suspicion most of it is illegal.”

“True enough. Mayhap e'en some poaching. Be careful, Bethoc, and nay just because it would be awkward if I didnae have your help any longer.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Bethoc was just wondering what he would do if she flung herself in his arms and asked for another kiss when Margaret suddenly ran up to him and stuck out her hand. Laughing when she gave it a little shake, Callum gently kissed the child's hand. As she picked up Margaret Bethoc shook her head.

“Weel, are ye nay the little flirt,” she said as she put Margaret in the sling and settled her on her back.

Callum dragged himself to his feet and followed them to the opening. He leaned against the rock and watched them as they left, then did a quick survey of the area before ducking back inside and putting the covering over the opening. He hated the fact that he could not escort her home. He suspected soon he could manage such a walk, slowly, but his leg would ensure he could offer little help if an attack came. The only thing that would be served was his pride.

Moving back to his pallet, he grimaced. Sitting and doing nothing was beginning to drive him mad. He was going to have to think of something to keep himself busy. Glancing at his rough, unadorned walking stick, he smiled. No need for a man not to decorate the tools he used. He pulled out a knife from his pocket, grabbed the stick, and began to work.

* * *

Bethoc slipped into the house and breathed a sigh of relief. Kerr was not at home. She was not sure where he was or what he was doing except drinking when he spent so much time in the village, but life was easier with his absence. Putting away the basket, and her cloak, she went looking for Margaret who had only just been set down. She found the little girl sitting beneath the tree with Cathan. She went and sat down with them.

“Are ye done for the day then, Cathan?” Bethoc asked.

“Aye,” he muttered.

“Ouch,” said Margaret, and grabbed his hand, ignoring his attempts to get it free as she showed it to Bethoc.

“'Tis all right. Colin tended it.”

Seeing the bandage and smelling the herbal scent of the cream she put on such injuries, she had to nod. He had done well, which told her he watched every time she tended their injuries. She took Cathan's hand in hers and carefully examined the whole thing before letting go.

“Aye, he did a verra fine job as weel. I will change the bandage after we sup.”

“I dinnae ken why he made me come sit here. I can still work with this hand.”

Bethoc looked at the hand he held up and winced as it was filthy. “Nay, ye cannae and that is that.”

Cathan looked at his hand and frowned. “It is nay hurt so I can.”

“It is dirty. If ye get any dirt on your hurt hand it could be bad.”

“Why?”

“I really dinnae ken but I do ken that clean is better. Mayhap ye can come in, wash that hand, and give me some help with the meal.”

He did not look very happy about it, but he followed her inside along with Margaret. She started another stew using the meat left from the other night. Soon, as she fell into the rhythm of preparing the meal, her thoughts began to wander.

Thinking of Callum brought a flush to her cheeks. She knew she should not allow him to kiss her but she also knew she could not wait for him to do so again. He was a handsome fellow and there was a kindness in him that was hard to resist. So hard, she knew she would be slipping back there as soon as she could.

She wondered if this was what her mother had felt. If so, it was rather easy to see how she could have become lost in dreams as her real life had worsened. Bethoc just wished the woman had had the strength to recall that there were children around her that needed help. She knew she never would, never could, forget.

The boys sat at the table once they had washed up. Her father had arrived and was sullenly drinking ale. Bethoc always got tense when she saw him drinking as she could never be sure what might stir his anger then. The boys watched him carefully as they waited for their meal. It was evident that they understood the danger that came with Kerr drinking.

It occurred to Bethoc that this was how all their mealtimes went. There were times when it was better but they grew fewer and fewer as time slipped by. She wondered what it would be like to simply sit and have a meal filled with talk, laughter, and good companionship. It would be wondrous, she thought. Perhaps, if she was very fortunate, she would have that.

If she married, she thought, and suddenly frowned. She was more than old enough to be married yet her father had never made an effort to match her up with anyone. While she was pleased he had not done so with the friends he occasionally brought round, it was curious. It could have brought him some money as some men were more than ready to pay for a young wife. It was odd that her father, who was always on the hunt for a way to get money without working for it, would not think to use his own daughter. She doubted she would make him rich but she was sure she would add a fair number of coins to his purse.

Shaking away such thoughts, she began to serve the food. As she sat down to eat and help young Margaret eat her food, she wondered about asking her father why he had not seen to her marriage. Just as quickly she decided not to say a word. Now that she had met Callum, even if he was not the man for her, she could not envision marrying anyone her father picked out. It was better if he never had a thought about it, she decided, and shook away the faint image of Callum that still lingered in her mind.

Chapter Five

“I will watch Margaret for ye if ye are eager to get out,” said Colin as he stepped up beside her in the doorway.

Bethoc turned from watching Kerr disappear down the road and looked at Colin. He was badly bruised, even after a week of healing, but the swelling had gone down a bit. It would be a long time before he completely healed and she was still concerned about the bad bruise on his temple. It was also a wonder that nothing had been broken.

It had been a very long week since she had seen Callum and she truly missed him. She had not been able to do more than hastily deliver some food to him and then hurry back home. It seemed odd to her that she should be feeling such a need to see the man. He was very handsome with his dark red hair and green eyes, and grew more so as each bruise faded away. But all they had done was talk some as she had tended to his injuries. Even that kiss was but one time. It seemed hardly enough to cause her such a need to go and see him.

“Nay, Colin, I cannae leave Margaret,” she said, not able to hide all her reluctance. “I promised my mother I would ne'er leave her.” At times that promise felt like a chain around her neck but then she would feel guilty for having such a thought for she adored Margaret.

“And we ken why now, didnae we? He got rid of them. Probably brought her one of us to make up for it. But I doubt she meant for ye to keep her attached to your side as ye do.”

“Odd though it is, I believe she did.”

“Ye want to go and see your mon.”

“Colin! I dinnae have a mon.”

He laughed. “Och, aye, ye do, though I dinnae ken why ye are keeping him in a cave.”

She gaped at him. “What cave?” she asked weakly.

“Do ye really think we would let ye just wander off all the time? Nay. We followed. After the first time it was always just me or Bean. Did think we might have to do something when those men approached you.” He grinned. “But our wee Margaret put on a fine show, didnae she. I wouldnae have wanted to touch a child who could screech like that either. Sounded possessed.”

“Aye, she did weel. Ye have always kenned where I have gone?”

“Always.”

She slowly sat down in the doorway. A moment later, Colin sat down beside her. Bethoc did not know what to say or do. The cave had been her secret place for so long. It had been what she loved about it, the fact that it was her place and no one knew where she was. She had been slowly making it more comfortable, more livable. She did not know what she should do now that she realized it had not been much of a secret at all. And what should she do about Callum? He needed to be hidden. It was alarming to know that he was not.

“Does Kerr ken?” she asked quietly, suspecting her father could make money by telling the men where Callum was and that would be too sore a temptation for him to resist.

“Nay. Why would we e'er tell him?” Colin shook his head. “Ye dinnae need to look so afraid. We would ne'er let him find out. And I dinnae think
he
believes any of us go anywhere. If we had somewhere to go the whole lot of us could have left by now. I think he believes his fists are enough to hold us. Fool. 'Tis just that we have naught else and whether we like to admit it or nay, we are all too young to be just out on the street. Hard to get a bed or food. Also ye are easy prey for any mon who wants to beat on something or the like.”

Bethoc thought about that for a moment and nodded. Kerr felt he had them all cowed, that they would never leave because they were afraid of what he would do once he caught them again. He believed they had built their own cages and kept them filled with a bed and just enough food to make them stay. It was also a trap she had no idea of how to escape.

She sighed as Margaret toddled up and sat on her lap. The little girl handed her a brush and then sat up very straight. Bethoc decided she had just been given a chore.

“Fix,” said Margaret.

“Demanding wee thing, arenae ye?” teased Colin as he tickled her and she squealed with laughter. “Ye should be talking by now, pet. Ye dinnae think she is a wee bit . . .”

Brushing Margaret's wild curls, ones so much like their mother's or her own, Bethoc said before he could finish his sentence, “Nay. I think wee Margaret just doesnae say a word until she is sure she can say it exactly as she hears it and ye can understand her, until she has it just right. And I was told that children raised in a house like this quickly learn the value of being verra, verra quiet. That could be part of it.”

Colin nodded. “Aye. Wish I had remembered that lesson the other night. I was just too angry to think. Even as the words leapt from my mouth, I was telling myself to hush.” He laughed bitterly. “Truly wish I had listened to that voice.”

“I have a bad feeling he actually could have killed you. He has ne'er done ye like that before.”

“He was trying and, aye, he wasnae quite sane. 'Tis because he feared what we might find. Found it anyway though, didnae we.” He shook his head. “We buried the bairns next to Mother and then wrote on a stone and set it over the grave. He saw the stone, too. Now he kens we found them. If he hadnae lost his mind, we ne'er would have. Put the bushes back in as weel. Some are a wee bit sad, but I think they will recover. Then ye willnae have to walk all over the countryside to get some berries.”

She thought of what the boys had painstakingly etched into the stone.
Four angels laid to rest with their mother at last. May she hold them in her arms forever.
It brought tears to her eyes, even though she scolded herself for being so sentimental. Despite Kerr Matheson's brutality, her boys were growing up to be good men. She prayed she could soon find them something better than being Kerr's workers or something he could punch when the anger in him got too much to hold in. They deserved a much better life than that.

“Thank ye, although I ne'er minded. I was so afraid when he saw that stone, too, but he hasnae done a thing,” she said in wonder.

“Dinnae think he will,” Colin replied. “He needs us to work his fields. Needs ye to cook and clean. Knock the life out of any of us now and he loses his whole kingdom. I dinnae think he worries about any of us at the moment. What I want to ken is, what is he watching for?”

“What do ye mean?”

“I have followed him into the village.”

“How do I keep missing all this sneaking about ye are doing?”

“Because I am verra good at it?” He grinned, then said seriously, “He stays to the shadows and is always looking around. E'en when he goes into the tavern. He sits in a shadowy corner, drinks, and watches everyone.”

“Ye went into the tavern?”

“Aye, they dinnae pay attention. Da didnae either. Too busy watching his own back.”

“It sounds as if he fears some trouble is headed his way.”

Colin grunted softly. “A lot of it, I am thinking. Nay sure he kens how to escape it either. He asked me yester eve if me and the lads had a good place to hide. I said, ‘Aye,' even as I tried to think of a way to nay tell him where it is or then wondered if I should. He didnae e'en ask. Just told me, ‘Run for it when the trouble comes.' Then he left. Didnae give me a chance to ask what he was talking about.”

“He ne'er asked me that,” Bethoc said, and realized she was not surprised that Kerr gave no thought to the safety of his daughters.

“I ken it. Was getting madder and madder about that but now ye ken. Ye and Margaret will run with us. Ye may as weel. We mean to go to your cave and hide.”

“Huh. Silly of me to think I had a wondrous secret place to go to.”

He laughed, stood up, and picked up Margaret with barely a wince, which she saw as a good sign. “Go. I will keep her with me and ne'er let her out of my sight. Go on now. Your mon probably needs some food by now.”

“He is nay my mon!” she said but Colin just laughed.

Bethoc stood for a whole minute before she gave up trying to resist the urge to run to the cave. It was clear to see that whatever shyness Margaret had suffered from had vanished and the child was happy to be with Colin. She went and gathered up some food, putting as much as she could spare into the basket and bag in case she could not get out of the house again for a while. With a last look to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be, she headed out. This time she kept a close eye out for any sign of the men looking for Callum. She was especially careful as she entered the clearing.

Deciding it was all clear she hurried up the path to the cave. As she moved the brush, she frowned. Someone else had moved it. A tickle of fear entered her heart and she hurried inside. Callum sat on his pallet and smiled at her.

“Ah, ye are here,” she said, then blushed and turned to put the brush back in place.

“Aye. Where did ye think I might be?” he asked, still smiling.

She went over and sat down in front of him. “For a moment, I feared someone had found ye. I saw that the brush had been moved.”

“Ah. Nay. I emptied the slop buckets and cleaned up after Stormcloud.”

“I have brought ye more food. I am sorry I havenae been here much. Colin was”—she hesitated—“ill.”

He grasped her hands, stopping her fussing about with the food. “Tell me what happened. That time ye did run in before, I could sense something had happened, but ye gave me no time to ask. What has happened, Bethoc?”

“My mother had more babies,” she burst out, and then took a few steadying breaths. “Four over the years. The boys were planting some bushes and Kerr went mad. Truly mad. He tore them all up, screaming all the while, and when Colin complained, he beat him. If we hadnae all pulled him off I fear he would have killed Colin. I have ne'er seen him so maddened.”

“Over bushes?”

She suddenly stood up, tearing her hands free, and began to pace. “It wasnae the bushes. It was where they were digging. I always wondered how my mother could go so long without having a child. Grieved for her, thinking she may have nay carried some to birth, mayhap e'en because Kerr hit her and that brought on her loss. But, nay, she had babies. She had four and they were all buried in the area where the boys had planted the bushes. That is why Kerr went so mad o'er the planting of them. He was terrified of what they may have dug up. And then, after he left, Colin wanted to see what was buried there.”

“What made Colin think there was something buried out there?”

“Because Kerr wasnae sane when he attacked Colin. There truly was a madness to it, and he said something about ne'er digging there. He also seemed intent on killing Colin, which he has ne'er done before. In truth, Colin ne'er usually got more than a hard slap because he cannae always watch his tongue.

“Colin said there had to be something there that he didnae want them to find. So, after Kerr left, Colin wanted to see what was buried there e'en though he could barely stand. They propped him up against a tree out in the garden. The other boys then dug up all around the area and they found the four wee bodies.” She took a deep breath but it did nothing to stem the flow of tears.

“Come here, lass,” Callum said, and held out his hand.

Bethoc looked at that hand and she knew she ought not to take it even as she put her hand in his. He tugged her down next to him, on the side of his good leg. When he put his arm around her shoulders, she slumped against him. It was weak, she thought, but it was good to have the sympathy. Being held so close to him was enough to ease some of the ache in her heart.

“Four bodies?” he asked, giving in to temptation and resting his cheek against her hair.

“Aye. My sisters.”

“Ye are certain they are all girls?”

“Kerr wouldnae kill a boy. E'en Colin said that. Aye, they are all girls. And, save for one, I think they were all born alive. One was too small. It could have died simply because it was born too early. But it explains why my mother insisted I stay with her when she labored with Margaret. She clung to my hand. She knew. He knew too. He hung about until he kenned I was going nowhere and then left. He was angry, too. Mother was pleased.”

“So, no midwife.”

“Nay. He ne'er allowed one. Said women were made to have bairns. They didnae need any help.”

“I am sorry, Bethoc. Sorry that ye can ne'er be certain, either.”

She nodded. The uncertainty over how the babies had died would probably always trouble her. Each had stolen a piece of her mother's heart and mind. All she could do was pray that, if they had been born alive, Kerr had killed them before burying them.

“Ye realize ye dinnae call him Father any longer.” Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked up at him. She knew she had constantly told herself she should stop calling him Father. Yet she was not sure exactly when she had stopped. At some time even the habit of it had just stopped. He had simply become Kerr in her mind, and her heart. The few times she spoke to him she did not call him by any name at all.

“Aye, I suppose I have. Sad, isnae it.”

“Aye”—he brushed a kiss over her temple—“but ye have made the family he didnae give you. Ye have been the mother to all those lads dragged off the streets.”

“Nay a verra good one,” she muttered. “They still got hit.”

“What did I say about this guilt ye wish to carry?” He tilted her face up to his and kissed the tip of her nose.

“That I am a wee lass who couldnae stop him,” she said, and grimaced. “I ken it. I do and ye are right in all ye say. Yet I cannae stop thinking that I should have been able to do something about it all. It just doesnae seem right that one mon can hold so many others with just the power of his fists.”