The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6) Read online

  Shouts from the crenellated wall heralded their arrival that by the time they’d crossed the bridge and entered the courtyard through the lifted gate, the door to the keep had been thrown open and his parents waited his return. Others gathered as well, come from the keep or the outbuildings, the stables and the bakehouse, that a grand cheer greeted them.

  Alec crossed the wide bailey quickly, reining in sharply and leaping off his horse to stand before both his mother and father.

  “Oh, but there’s my prayers answered,” his mother cried, taking his hand, touching his midsection.

  His father, the great Alexander MacBriar, stood as tall as his son and circled his arms around both Alec and his wife. “Bluidy bollocks, but ye’ve made my day, lad!” His voice boomed. Always. In sorrow or joy, in contemplation or when sour, Alexander MacBriar’s deep voice rumbled about the air as if God himself were speaking.

  Magdalena MacBriar pushed her husband’s arms away from her, getting her first look at her son in almost a year. “No holes anywhere,” she noted, her little blue eyes watery, “all your limbs yet attached. Oh, what a marvelous day.” She reached her hand up to Alec’s cheek. “Are you hungry, dear?” Her voice was scratchy and thin, wispy even, always had been.

  Alec smiled down at her. “We’re all hungry, ma’am, and hoping you’ll provide a feast as we haven’t seen in months.”

  “We can,” she assured him with delight. “We will.”

  Alexander MacBriar took his son by the shoulders then, meeting him eye to eye, measuring his well-being with a steady gaze into hazel eyes so like his own. He asked no questions, found all the answers he needed in Alec’s happy grin. “I missed you, lad.”

  “Aye, sir. But home now, no plans to leave anytime soon.”

  “Your mother will be pleased.”

  Alec nodded and he and his father watched Magdalena MacBriar greet all the soldiers individually while others inside the bailey made welcome to their friends and family as well, so long gone.

  Malcolm approached and was embraced by the elder MacBriar, Malcolm having been Alexander’s personal pick for Alec’s captain years ago, having fought beside his father in more battles than Alec and Malcolm had yet seen.

  Alec took in all the reunions, proud to have delivered this unit wholly intact, if a bit roughed up. With his hands on his hips, his smile unbroken, he scanned the yard, seeing the kitchen maid, Elsa, rush into Aymer’s arms and the smithy, Kyle, greet his son, Fergus. People rushed in through the gate on foot, coming from the village or the closer group of cottages to greet the group.

  In two corners of the yard, two women stood, one contentedly aloof, the other biting her lip and holding her son’s hand. Eleanor was Eleanor and had no need of succor, but Alec supposed he should introduce Katie and Henry to his mother, at least. He began moving that way, across the wide bailey but saw that his mother had already spied the newcomers and was headed toward them. He arrived behind her, just in time to hear his mam say, “But you’re not a soldier, a wee bit short on the years, I should say.” She tweaked Henry’s cheek.

  Henry showed a hopeful grin. “No, ma’am.”

  “And’s who’s this pretty lass you’ve brought with you?”

  “It’s my mam, she’s a healer. Are you Alec’s mom?”

  “I am,” she answered, folding her hands over her thick middle. “The laird’s wife, Maddie. It’s Magdalena properly, of course, but what a millstone to hang ‘round my neck, a name like that.”

  She’d lifted her button gaze to Katie, including her in the introduction.

  “Katie Oliver, ma’am, and this is Henry. I’m pleased to meet you and I think Magdalena is a very fine name.”

  “For a horse, mayhap,” his mother quipped.

  Quite sure that Katie Oliver was aware of his approach but politely kept her attention with his mother, Alec placed his hands on his mother’s shoulders and said, “Katie lent her aid to Malcolm, ma’am, that it seemed only right to invite her to Swordmair, as her situation down near Rutherglen needed improvement.” He thought to ask, “Is ol’ Morven still practicing?”

  “Morven? Oh, but Alec, he passed last winter,” she said over her shoulder. Then, to Henry, in a manner to which they would swiftly grow accustomed, she expounded, “Hard as a rock, he was, frozen in his cart just outside the village.” She shrugged under Alec’s hands. “Might’ve been dead a day, mayhap more, no one seems to ken. Or care. One foot’d been chewed off by a—”

  Katie’s eyes widened dramatically.

  “Aye, ma’am,” Alec cut in, “then Katie’s coming is fortunate, indeed.”

  “What? Oh, yes. Do you ken about the healing, lass?” His mother asked, a wee hint of doubt in her airy tone. “You seem fairly young, a mite too bonny for all that blood and gore.”

  Katie smiled. “I am older than I look. I’ve been healing for more than a decade now, trained by a great woman.”

  Alec listened, realizing he knew so little about her. She’d been healing then, mayhap, before she was wed. He suddenly wondered what her life’s tale was, how she came upon her occupation so early in life.

  “Very well, and have you a husband to go with this lad?” The mistress of Swordmair asked.

  “My husband is dead.” Katie answered, apparently unoffended by his mother’s bluntness.

  “Mayhap that’s why Alec picked you up, then. He always liked the bonny ones.” Before Alec could express any indignation to this, his mam grabbed up Henry’s hand. “Come along, Henry, you can help me in the kitchens while my son figures out what he’s going to do with you and your mam. We’ve a feast to prepare.”

  The pair walked away, Henry nearly bouncing on his feet with excitement, not too many inches shorter than Magdalena. Alec gave Katie an apologetic grimace while she showed a hint of a grin, possibly charmed by his mother’s habit of saying whatever came to mind.

  “She’s...” he began, but recalled he never knew quite how to explain his mam to strangers.

  “Delightful,” Katie surprised him by supplying.

  Somehow, he might have suspected that she gave praise neither often nor so openly.

  “What shall I do?” She asked then. “Will I take over Morven’s cottage? Shall I start unpacking?”

  Throwing a rueful glance toward the keep, where his mother had disappeared, having hoped she’d have dealt with just this issue, he said with a sigh, “I dinna want you at Morven’s old place. It’s too far and, in all likelihood, derelict. C’mon inside the keep. I’ll need to see what’s available.”

  KATIE WAITED JUST INSIDE the hall, while Alec went to find someone named Edric. She’d been inside Dalserf Castle on a few occasions, had been awed by the splendor of the main hall even while she’d wondered if English loyalties or good old fashioned hard work had decorated that keep with so much finery.

  Swordmair’s main hall was possibly longer and wider than that of Dalserf, and mayhap grander for its simplicity. Slim windows, high upon the two story walls, were clean and without glass but offered a sufficient amount of morning light to brighten the room. The farthest wall was white-washed and decorated with family crests and shields and a variety of weapons. There was no decoration aside from those implements and the grouping was haphazard at best, and yet there was a charm to how simply the MacBriar pride was displayed, neither framed in gold nor cased in glass. The wide planks of the floor were clean and surprisingly bereft of the rushes that hid so much dirt and odors. The hall was large enough to accommodate three rows of trestle tables and boasted two huge hearths. The tables were matched only by the uniformly faded wood as each had its own design. Some were surrounded by mismatched chairs and stools and others flanked by low and crude benches. Tempering the patchwork atmosphere of the room were a few well-placed, soft and womanly touches; atop each table, a strip of tattered lace stretched from one end to the other; there was no massive chandelier suspended from the cavernous planked ceiling, but upon every table sat a round metal trencher, each holding two or three can
dles, of different widths and heights; no great and ancient tapestries hung on any of the walls, but over the doorways and in one corner of the room, long gauzy swags of linen softened the starkness; one table, sitting solitary at the far end of the room, was draped with a crisp white cotton cloth, and upon the metal where sat those candles, little sprigs of thistles and greens had been set.

  ’Twas all very pretty, with an eye for charm and not ostentation.

  Katie removed her threadbare cloak then, hoping the day improved and that she might be warm again. She folded it over her good arm just as Eleanor stepped into the hall from somewhere deeper inside the keep.

  The woman’s expression showed yet no hint of thawing, and her greeting, such as it was, hinted that a melting might never come.

  “Just idling? Ye have no work to be getting at? Or have ye smiled pretty and the lads are managing your affairs again?”

  Supposing her lack of surprise spoke more about what she’d learned about Eleanor’s manner than anything else, Katie sighed and dared to stride closer to the giant woman, effectively stepping into her path as she crossed the hall. Eleanor halted, seeming to understand her own hostility must receive some form of retaliation.

  “Eleanor, I’m thinking we’ll have very little need for any interaction now so that I don’t care that you do not like me, but do you really have to behave so boorishly? Just ignore me, and I’ll do the same. There’s no need to assert your dominance at every meeting.”

  Eleanor only smirked with no small amount of nastiness and stepped around Katie.

  “But, Eleanor,” Katie called after her, “If you ever mistreat my son, I will slit your throat.”

  Eleanor hadn’t turned back around, kept right on walking away, shouting out a bark of laughter in answer to Katie’s threat.

  Katie watched her disappear through the door and out into the courtyard and shook her head with lingering frustration. “I might better poison her slowly,” Katie decided.

  “Poison who?”

  Katie whirled and found Alec striding from the same corridor through which Eleanor had come.

  With a sigh and nothing to hide, she confessed, “Eleanor.”

  He blew out a short and humorless chuckle. “You dinna wanna poke that beast, lass.”

  “She’s impossibly sullen. But to only me? Or is she like that with everyone?”

  Alec stopped when he reached her. Casually, he plucked at a thin little twig that had fastened onto her cloak. He did not discard it carelessly onto the clean floor but walked over to the hearth and tossed it within, saying, “She’s actually no’ usually verra crusty. No’ sure what’s eating at her, but she’ll get over it.” When he returned, he slid his hand into the bend of Katie’s elbow and led her outside. “Edric said one of the nearby cottages is empty.”

  “But Henry...?”

  “Is happily eating his fill in the kitchens, charming one and all. We’ll be back ’fore he misses you.”

  The two wagons that had carted the Olivers and all their belongings had been abandoned inside the bailey. Alec helped Katie to climb up into the one which held their personal items, directing her onto the seat rather than the wagon bed. He perched next to her and snapped the reins against the palfrey’s back, circling in the yard to turn the vehicle around and then passing through the gate and along the well-worn road until they came upon six similar houses, all neatly thatched with white-washed walls. They stopped at the fourth one.

  Locking the brake and stowing the reins, Alec hopped down and turned to fetch Katie. She didn’t need assistance, truly, as she had one good arm and might have used the seat to push off from, but thought there was no need to be rude and ignore his outstretched hand.

  When her two feet hit the ground, she followed him as far as the door. They might have gone right in, but that the door was wedged and refused to respond to Alec’s persuasion until he was forced to put his shoulder into it. It gave way with a loud groan, spewing a cloud of dust at them.

  They were immediately assaulted with an unpleasant odor, the likes of which suggested more than poor housekeeping and something closer to decomposition.

  “Whew!” Alec exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his face.

  “Good heavens,” Katie said, her eyes watering almost instantly. The first thing she noticed after the smell was the shaft of light spilling onto the middle of the floor. “Oh, my,” she said, regarding the large irregular hole in the roof, and the thatch that hung in or had fallen down to the floor.

  When Alec blew out a disgruntled breath and sent her an apologetic grimace, Katie sought to be optimistic and said, “Nothing a good scrubbing cannot fix. Once the roof is repaired, I’m sure it will be...just fine.” Glancing around showed that the former tenants had left the cottage in shambles. Household items lay all around the floor, two timbers at the far end were dropped from the roof and leaned across the width of the house, and a great portion of the wattle and daub of the wall at the rear was missing. Biting her lip, she decided it would take her several days at least just to make it livable. “It will be fine,” she said again, not wanting to be or sound ungrateful. On the bright side, “It’s certainly much larger than where we’ve come from.”

  She tried to smile at Alec.

  He shook his head and grabbed her hand, turning her around, leading her outside. “You’re no’ living there.”

  She was shuttled back in to the wagon and they drove across the picturesque bridge by which they’d come into Swordmair, but now turned right at the far side of the loch and followed a narrow trail into a beautiful grove of silver birch trees.

  Alec explained, “The village is beyond the trees. Two empty cottages there. I’d wanted you closer to the castle.” At Katie’s speculative glance, he clarified, “Thought you might feel safer if your house were closer.”

  “Oh.” She was just about to ask if the village was very far when the trees thinned and were left behind. The village lie just ahead. With some excitement for this happy circumstance, she announced, “Oh, it’s so close!” She’d not have to trek so long in inclement weather if needed at the castle. How lovely. She counted mayhap twenty different cottages, rather grouped upon a few meandering roads, forming somewhat of a circle, the outskirts of the village being barren fields, harvest gone now, and a bright green meadow where sheep and goats lazed.

  Alec steered the wagon around the first wide corner and halted in front of a cottage tucked between several others, the door curiously painted a bright blue. Katie glanced around but saw no persons milling about. She hoped her neighbors were friendly, her stomach suddenly knotting.

  “I’ll have words for Edric if this one proves to be anywhere near as awful as the first,” Alec said as he helped her alight once again.

  It was not awful at all. Dark and dusty, true, but the roof and walls were intact, the entire home empty of any remnants of the previous residents, save for a few pieces of useful furniture. It was easily twice the size of the home Katie had known for nearly a decade. The hearth stood against the middle of the long back wall, flanked by uneven but secure stones.

  Alec, in front of her, assessing the cottage as well, turned with some expectation at her.

  She smiled happily, not adverse to allowing her excitement to show.

  He seemed to relax then and walked back outside while Katie spun around and considered all that she might do with so much space. Alec returned shortly, bearing baskets and crates of her belongings, stacked and crowded in his strong arms.

  This prompted Katie to move. Ten minutes later, the wagon was empty, and her new home was filled with most of her meager possessions, stacked along the front wall until she settled them properly.

  Alec straightened, having set down the last bit of goods, and pointed to the far end of the room. “Mayhap we can build a few walls, make two bedchambers here at this end.”

  “Two bedchambers?” She stepped forward, considering.

  “Henry won’t be seven forever, lass.”

  T
here wasn’t any part of her that liked to admit when he was right, but the truth was, she’d had similar thoughts not too long ago. “Aye,” she said with some dejection. She didn’t want Henry to grow up.

  With a melancholy sigh for this thought, Katie bent and plucked something from the hard earth floor. ’Twas only a large stone, she realized, and then took one step to remove another, which had come loose from the packed earth. When she straightened and turned, she nearly bumped into Alec.

  She went completely still, closing her mouth against the quick breath that wanted to come. He seemed in no hurry to move himself out of her way, seemed quite pleased to trouble her with such closeness. She wished he wouldn’t, couldn’t imagine she’d done anything to warrant it, to attract his notice. She hadn’t stared overlong at his gorgeous mouth, she was sure, or looked longingly upon his plaid and tunic, recalling what beauty was hidden beneath. She hadn’t set her gaze on him with any admiration, none that was visible, that she recollected. She hadn’t even—

  “Do I disturb you, lass?”

  She swallowed and nodded, whispered, “You bring...chaos.” And he knew he did. It twirled in her belly and lodged in her chest and he liked doing that to her, she somehow knew.

  “Chaos is good though, aye?”

  “Is it?” She thought not.

  “Aye. It is. It forces you to think and be in a way you secretly find splendid. Be honest, lass. You like my chaos.”

  “I do not—cannot—trust it.”

  “Dinna trust it? Or its purpose? Or...dinna trust me?”

  “Aye. All of it.” She closed her eyes for just a moment, reveled in the feel of his hot breath on her cheek, let it linger, and then she forced herself away. Raising her face, she took several steps out of his reach and turned on him, sorry that there was nothing she could do about her hands, nervously tripping over each other at her waist. In a stronger voice, she told him, “I simply do not understand your motives. What’s the point of all this?”