The Promise of Peace (28 page)

Relief filled her as if a weight had been lifted from her heart. She smiled at him, felt genuine affection despite—or perhaps because of—their past. “And have you? Found someone?”

“Not yet. But I'd like to think I've grown up a bit.”

She stared at him. “I believe you have. Thank you, Will.”

They stood, and Will put his finger under her chin, making it jut out in the way she knew she did when she was determined. “That's better, ”Will said. “I'll talk to him.”

NINETEEN

K
EIFER HEARD THE DOOR TO HIS ROOM OPEN. Now who had come to disturb him? Why couldn't they just let him go to his rest without all the fuss?

He sensed someone standing over the bed. It wasn't Nola—he could tell with his eyes closed that this person smelled of saddles and leather. Why didn't they say something? Minutes passed, and Keifer grew tired of pretending to sleep. He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Will Macpherson sitting in the chair by the bed.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“Hello, Keifer.”

“Say your piece and leave me alone. You've got what you wanted.”

Will looked surprised but said nothing.

Was the man that thick-headed that he didn't understand Keifer's meaning? “You'll soon have Nola.” Keifer closed his eyes, hoping the man would go away.

“Really,” Will said mildly. “That's going to present a problem since I no longer want her.”

Keifer opened his eyes. “Of course you do.”

“Why are you trying to push your wife off on me, Macnab?”

Will's behavior was confusing. He should be jumping at the opportunity to call Nola his. “I want to know that Nola will be taken care of when I'm gone.”

“Where are you planning to go? You can't walk.”

Keifer sat up, angry, and then in pain from the quick movement.

He leaned on an elbow. “Come to rub it in, did you?”

“No, you fool. I came to tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Don't count on me to take care of your wife. I don't want someone else's woman. I want one who loves me the way Nola loves you, you blind, pig-headed fool!” Will jumped to his feet, and Keifer could see the man was genuinely angry.

Then Will walked to the end of the bed and touched Keifer's big toe. “Can you move your toes, Keifer? Have you even tried?”

Keifer refused to try to move the digit. Hadn't he laid here in the dark and tried to do so in vain? It was better to simply give in to death than live as a cripple. “Go away, Will.”

“Fine. I will. But Nola is your responsibility, not mine. Not her father's. Be a man, Keifer, and accept what you cannot change.”

“And what would you know about acceptance of such things?”

Keifer shouted.

Will came around the bed and stood close, so close Keifer felt himself shrink back into the bedding.

“I learned it well the day the woman I loved married another man.” Will spun on his heel and strode out of the room, banging the door just as Nola had before him.

Keifer wept. Wept for the future that would no longer be his.

Wept for the pain he would cause Nola. Wept for being a coward who would rather die than face whatever God had planned for him.

Exhausted from the tears and the emotions of the past few hours, Keifer fell into a troubled asleep.

IN A PIQUE OF TEMPER Nola stayed away from Keifer's room the rest of the day and all of the next. She would not go to him unless he sent for her. Furthermore, she considered returning home to Moy with her father.

She said as much to Owyn when she sat next to him to break her fast.

“Ye mustn't do that, my lady.”

“Give me one good reason to stay.”

Owyn stood up. “Stay right here and I will bring ye a reason.”

Puzzled, she said, “All right.”

In a few minutes Owyn returned carrying something in his hands. He put it in her hands and sat down beside her.

“Keifer's treasure box! Where has it been?”

“I left it here with Lady Kathryn for safekeeping.” He handed her the key, still laced on the faded ribbon she had taken from her hair.

As she took the key, she stared at the box. “This is the reason I should not go to Moy?”

“Ye will find the reason inside, my lady.” And with that he stood and walked away.

Curious, Nola placed the key in the lock. The mechanism stuck, and she had to use force to make the key turn. She undid the lock and opened the lid. There lay the Macnab laird's ring, encrusted with mud. Why wasn't Keifer wearing it? And what did it have to do with . . . ?

Her vision blurred as she gazed at the item laying beneath the ring. There next to the wooden horse lay the bracelet, Nola's favor. Keifer had kept it! Had worn it until it was faded and frayed.

It had been new once, just as their love was new. Just as their love would one day be old and frayed, so long as they didn't throw it away.

She clutched the braided twine in her hands, knowing what she must do. She made her way to the chapel. Once there, she dropped to her knees in prayer. She asked that Keifer would live, crippled or not. And asked for God's guidance in how to be the wife he needed in their changed circumstances.

As she left the chapel she felt stronger, more resolute, and ready to face her husband. Lady Kathryn informed Nola that Keifer was definitely getting stronger. But still he did not ask for her. Nola wandered Homelea's gardens and soon found herself among Lady Kathryn's roses.

The late summer blooms perfumed the air as she paced the walkway. Keifer would live. But he didn't want her to be part of his life. Even the beauty of the roses could not lift the weight from her heart.

She swiped away tears. Did Keifer think so little of her that he thought she wouldn't or couldn't love him now that he lay injured? What did he think would happen when his hair turned gray and fell out? Would he not love her if she proved to be barren?

She sank onto a stone bench, crying in earnest. How could she explain her feelings if he didn't want to see her?

Her father found her there, and Nola turned away when he sat down next to her. But she couldn't cry forever, and Da seemed patient enough to wait her out. She reached into the
ciorbholg
at her waist and found a shivereen of cloth, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

Then Nola turned to face her father, and he folded her into his arms. The gesture of sympathy should have brought more tears, but his comfort soothed her spirit. She rested her head on his broad shoulder.

“Crying doesn't help, you know,” Adam said.

“No, but I've prayed until I'm sure God is thinking,
Enough already.
” She smiled weakly and sat up.

“Keifer needs you to be strong.”

“Ah, there is the problem, Da. Keifer says he doesn't need me at all. Doesn't want me or our marriage.”

Adam studied her. “And how do you feel about that?”

“At first I was so angry, I went to my room and started gathering my things,” she admitted.

“Angry or hurt?”

“Hurt. Then as I prayed, I saw clearly that his reaction is to be expected.”

“How is that?”

“Keifer feels he has been abandoned over and over again.”

“Since his father and brother died when he was so young, it's understandable.”

“Aye. And he felt like his family deserted him when he came to Moy.”

“He was troubled. I thought he'd gotten over it.” He sighed. “So now he sends you away before you can do the same to him.”

“So it would seem. And I almost did it. But I'm not going. I don't care what he says, I'm his wife and his friend . . .” The tears threatened again.

Adam held her close and patted her back. “Good for you, Nola.”

When she composed herself, she drew away. “It occurs to me that he could learn some things from your experience with being wounded.

Would you talk to him?”

“Keifer knows of my injury and my struggle to overcome it. But just now he's not going to believe me or anyone else. He will have to learn on his own. With his wife's help, as I did.”

Nola smiled. “As mother helped you.”

His smile was tender. “Aye. Just so.”

“Do I go to him or wait?”

“Give him some time.”

She hugged him. “I love you, Da.”

“And I love you, Daughter.”

“You must be anxious to go home. When will you leave?”

“I miss your mother and brothers.” He paused. “But I believe I'll stay to see Keifer's reaction when he finds out you intend to stick like a cocklebur.”

They laughed, and Nola knew that just as God had seen her father and mother through their difficulties, he would not abandon her or Keifer.

SIR BRYAN MACKINTOSH glanced about at the colorful autumn English countryside. A warm sun beat down as he rode beside Robert the Bruce, his father and his king. Twenty-one years had passed since that awful day in Carrick when Bruce had learned the fate of his family. Twenty-one years of near ceaseless warfare with England and the three kings named Edward who ruled there.

Though Bruce would not admit it, Bryan could see that age was catching up to the older warrior. It showed in the lines on his face and the gray in his hair. And in the bouts of the mysterious disease that laid the king low from time to time. Bryan said a quick prayer for Bruce's continued good health.

Today though, Bruce was in fine form, and well he should be. Both he and Bryan had their favorite hunting hawks on their arms, riding leisurely though northern England at will, uncontested by the English army.

Bryan chuckled.

Bruce turned in his saddle, a rare smile on his familiar face. “Will you share your amusement?”

“I was just mentally thumbing my nose at Edward III. And his father and grandfather.”

“Ah, yes. 'Tis a beautiful day to hunt on another man's land, is it not?”

They both laughed.

“Do you think your bluff will work?” Bryan asked.

“When young Edward and his keepers hear that I am roaming his northern counties, exacting tribute from his people, and claiming the land for Scotland, he will have to act.”

“You expect him to mount another war?”

Bruce's hawk ruffled its feathers, and he calmed the bird before answering. “I expect he will try. But this last pitiful expedition has taxed his treasury to the limit. I don't think his parliament will pay for another campaign.”

Randolph and Bruce and their cat-and-mouse tactics had successfully exhausted and demoralized the English army. The expensive Flemish mercenaries with their great war horses had been decimated by the forced marches and insufficient food.

After a lifetime of struggle, Bruce was about to see the completion of his plan for a united and free Scotland. Peace was in the air, from here in the north of England all the way to Homelea, where Keifer lay struggling to overcome his wounds.

Bryan said another prayer, this time for the young man's healing and for the many who had lost homes, fortunes, loved ones, or their very lives in this conflict. They were so close to the promise; surely God would not turn his back now!

The words of the Declaration of Arbroath came back to him.
For it is not glory, it is not riches, neither is it honor, but it is freedom alone that we fight and contend for, which no honest man will lose but with his life.

“God grant us freedom,” Bryan said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he watched his hawk climb high in the sky.

“Aye, God grant us freedom,” Bruce repeated.

Homelea

KEIFER GREW STRONGER EVERY DAY and soon realized that he would not die from his injury. Lady Kathryn said to be patient, to wait for the swelling to go down some more and the bruising to heal. Only then could he know the full extent of the damage to his back and its impact on the use of his legs.

Just as surprising as the news that he was healing was the way Will had spoken to him. Keifer had expected the man to be anxious for Keifer's demise. But on reflection Keifer had to admit, to himself if no one else, that Will was thinking of Nola, putting her heart and dreams ahead of his own. Will must truly care about her to do that. Which in comparison, didn't speak too well of Keifer's recent behavior.

Still, it had to be easier to be noble when you weren't faced with being crippled, unable to care for yourself or your loved ones. What kind of husband would he be if he was unable to protect his wife? Unable to fulfill her dreams? But then, he'd given her Paris. Keifer smiled, remembering their time in France. And their precious few weeks as man and wife.

Keifer missed Nola and regretted chasing her off. He daydreamed constantly about her smile, her laugh, and her eagerness as a wife.

He hadn't believed her when she said she would stay with him, so he'd pushed her away. But he missed her. If he was going to live, and that seemed more and more likely, did he really want to live without her? His life would be difficult enough. Without Nola . . . it didn't bear thinking.

What if Nola was with child? The thought filled him with fear and exhilaration. All his life Keifer had vowed not to marry, not to abandon a wife and children as his father had done. But Ian had not left of his own accord. How could Keifer do such a thing?

He could not.

“I want it to be the way it was when you loved me.”
Her words haunted him. He still loved her—would always love her, no matter what. Why didn't she come to him, his stubborn, wonderful wife? He needed her. Didn't she realize that it was only his pride that had sent her away?

His pride had also kept him from seeking God's forgiveness. But he was done feeling sorry for himself. Done wishing for death, for release from this life.

Forgive me, Father. I will accept the cup, no matter how bitter, if you will but let me have Nola's love for the rest of my life. I don't deserve it, but you already know that.