Kilted Sin: Brethren of Stone

by Andresen, Tammy

  Will pressed his lips together. He shouldn’t be surprised. What man would leave Gemma? Worse, he was beginning to think, deep down, she blamed herself. “If ye want to go, once the crop is settled, I’ll deliver ye myself.” He set Sean back down.

  “I’d like that.” She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank ye for helping us. I ken ye didn’t have to and I appreciate yer efforts more than ye’ll ever ken.”

  “You’re welcome, Mary.” He headed for the door. “Begin packing. We’ll likely leave in a few days’ time.”

  He headed for the door and out to saddle his horse. Maybe with Mary gone, he and Gemma could begin to build something that could last.

  * * *

  Gemma sat in the kitchen pressing clothes. Ewan was asleep, and Fiona sat practicing her letters while Gemma worked.

  Mrs. Cleary walked in carrying a bundle of clothing. “Thank ye kindly, Gemma.”

  “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Cleary. I don’t mind ironing a bit. The work soothes me.”

  The other woman gave her a smile. “Ye’re a hard worker. No doubt about that. But I suppose you have to be when you’re a woman alone in the world.”

  Mrs. Cleary’s words touched the raw spot on her heart. “Are ye glad to be alone? Do ye wish ye married?”

  Mrs. Cleary shrugged. “Never tell him I said so, but if I’d met a man like our laird, I think I might have settled down.”

  “Laird Sinclair?” Gemma blinked several times before setting down the iron and turning to the other woman. “Forgive me but I didn’t get the impression you were terribly fond of him.”

  Shrugging, Mrs. Cleary began laying out the clothes. “He’s got a good heart and a strong work ethic. I fell in love once, but he wasn’t anything like our laird.” Mrs. Cleary looked down at her hands. “A bad man can ruin ye so that yer heart is too broken when a good one comes along.”

  Gemma didn’t answer. Was it really that simple? Had Sean just been a bad egg who’d broken her heart?

  She finished the ironing and began to deliver the clothes. She hurried as Fiona skipped behind her. The halls were growing dark and the candles hadn’t been lit. She’d have to let her own skirts out a bit, she was putting on weight already with all the regular meals she was eating. As she sat to work, Fiona began to play with some blocks that Will had fashioned for the children. He was a good man. The best.

  Rising from her chair, she slipped into her room and opened her desk drawer. There, in the middle, was the letter from Sean. Maybe he would know if she was to blame for their failed marriage.

  Before she could lose her courage, she slipped open the seal and pulled out the single sheet of parchment.

  Unfolding it, her hand trembled as she quickly scanned the words.

  Dear Gemma,

  I know I haven’t written in some time. I’ve thought to nearly every day for a while now. I know you won’t be surprised by this, but I’ve landed myself in a bit of trouble. Never could stay out of it.

  I met a woman, and I was lonely without you. Anyway, she’s with child and even I can’t leave a woman with a baby. I have to stay, Gemma.

  I know it makes me terrible but I also know you’re strong and you’ll be fine. Make up with your mother. She was right. I’m no good at all.

  Goodbye,

  Sean

  Carefully, she set the paper back down on her desk, her fingers numb. It was all there. Every answer she’d been waiting three years for. Why didn’t she feel anything?

  Her fingers shook, and slowly she rubbed them up and down her legs.

  “Gemma,” Will called. She turned to see him in the open doorway. He wasn’t looking at her but at the paper on the desk. “Are ye all right?”

  “Read it,” she whispered.

  He crossed the room and picked up the sheet of parchment. His eyes quickly scanned the contents and then he set the letter back down. Then he reached for her, wrapping her firmly in a hug.

  She didn’t want to say anything and he seemed to understand that as he held her tight. “Can I stay with you tonight?” She tipped her chin back to look up into his eyes. The warm brown had a touch of amber, she’d never noticed before and they were framed by thick, dark lashes. Her fingers came up to his cheek. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Of course you can.” He brought his hands up to either side of her face, cradling it in his grasp. “Whatever you need, Gemma.”

  Sean had admitted he was no good. That gave her a great measure of comfort. But he also revealed that Mary’s baby had been the reason he’d stayed away. Even a man like Sean wanted a child.

  She was being selfish, staying in Will’s room. He’d surely want children beyond the two he had adopted. She should let him go, let him find a woman who could be a real wife and begin the process of building her life again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will held her in his arms, wondering what she’d been thinking. It was late and he should be asleep.

  They’d made love, Gemma desperate to touch him. Even now, in her sleep, she was pressed to his side, an arm and a leg thrown about him.

  But she’d also been silent. He didn’t understand. He’d been worried that Gemma blamed herself but Sean had admitted to being the guilty party. Why was she so quiet?

  He didn’t want to ask. Instead he kissed her, held her close, and waited. It was all he could do.

  Soon, he’d know that the winter crop was growing. Then they could begin to really build a life. With money, he could buy her new clothes. Hire a tutor and a nursemaid. He’d show Gemma that she didn’t need to worry. He’d care for her.

  With that in mind, he began to fall asleep. His eyes drifted closed as his thoughts softened, lengthened, changed direction. That was until he heard a noise. A soft pitter-patter on the ledge. Then louder.

  He opened his eyes. Rain. It started to fall louder, faster, beating at the windows. Sitting up, he crossed the room to see that the window was already soaked.

  “Hell and damnation.” He clutched at the sill. His crops. They weren’t ready for this type of rain. The seed would wash away.

  “What’s wrong?” Gemma called from the bed partially sitting up. Then she gasped. “Oh no.”

  “It can’t take this kind of rain. Weeks of work will be lost.” He held the wood tighter, his head resting against the glass. “I’ll fail Gemma. I’ll have to sell the land. How will I care for the children? For you?”

  “Stop,” she soothed, coming to stand next to him. “You don’t have to take care of me, Will. That’s the thing about living on my own for three years. I can take care of myself.”

  He didn’t want her to take care of herself. Irritation prickled along his skin. Was she trying to make him feel better? She hadn’t made him promises but in his heart, he’d already committed to her and it hurt that she hadn’t done the same.

  She slid her hands down his back. “We can take care of the children together. I can take in laundry and you can farm.”

  He spun around then, looking into her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes like new grass or ocean foam. “You wouldn’t leave me if I’m not a success?”

  “Leave ye?” She held his arms. “Yer the most successful man I ken. And I don’t mean farming. Ye are building a life for me and those children one brick at a time.”

  He kissed her then. He needed the comfort in this moment. “I don’t want to fail, Gemma. Try as I might, I’ve never been as successful as Blair or Stone.”

  “Will,” she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “I can’t believe they didn’t fail a few times along the way. And even if they didn’t, I certainly have. All we can do is get up tomorrow and try to put everything back together.”

  He took a deep breath. She was right. What was more, much as he hated to admit it, he had to do more than just try to put it all back together. It was time to ask for a little help.

  “Get back in bed. I’ll be right there.” Then he crossed the room and, taking out a piece of parchment, h
e began penning a note to Blair. Without more men, he’d never get the seed in on time.

  * * *

  Gemma watched Will writing. She had inadvertently made him promises just now. Not tonight and certainly not tomorrow. But once they got the fields sorted, she needed to tell him the truth. She couldn’t bear him children.

  She swallowed a lump even thinking about saying those words. Would he be angry? End their relationship? Or would he say it didn’t matter even if it did. That would be just like him to take on her burden and suffer the consequences of it. Would she be able to forgive herself if she couldn’t provide him with a family?

  Dusting the paper, he returned to bed. “I’ll send it first thing in the morning.” He pulled her tight against him. “There is nothing else I can do now.”

  “It will all work out,” she said as she gently ran her hands through his hair.

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “What if it doesn’t? What if I can’t give ye a good life, Gemma?”

  Her heart beat faster. She was beginning to understand what made this man worry. What hurt him. “Hush.” She kept her strokes even and light. “I’ll take you to my old cottage someday and then you can put all this worry to rest.”

  He relaxed at those words, his body pressing more closely to hers. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Thank you for letting me, Will.” She brushed her cheek along his. “I want ye to know that it doesn’t matter where we are or how the crop comes out. You need to understand, Will, you are a man that provides. It’s obvious to anyone who meets you. I’ve known it from the first day…well the second day I’d met you.” She continued lightly touching him. “So try not to worry so much and let me help you with this one. I can.”

  He leaned back, looking into her eyes. “Can you really? It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I am honestly struggling to understand how.”

  He didn’t mean it as insult. “I’ve worked hard my entire life. As soon as the rain stops, I’ll join you in the field.”

  “The children. What would we do with them?” he asked.

  She took a breath, the words hard to push out. “They’ll stay with Mary while I work.” She knew it was a sensible plan but it meant she’d have to see the woman. Will needed her and if she was going to prove to him she could be relied upon, give him what he needed, she’d have to swallow her pride. It was time.

  “Mary?” He propped up on one elbow, his gaze unblinking. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’ll do it for you, Will.” She rose up too. “This isn’t about my past.” She took a deep breath. “It’s about your future.”

  “It’s about our future.” He pressed his mouth to hers. “Together.”

  “Will.” Her tone was clipped. She didn’t want to say the truth but if she lied now, telling him the truth would only be more painful. “I’ve already told you. I’m not the woman you want. I can’t give you a future.”

  “Not tonight, Gemma,” he lay back down. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

  She nodded. She was going to have to tell him soon. “Whom did you write to?”

  “Blair.” He covered his eyes with his arm. “I need help and it’s time I asked fer it.” Then he pulled down his arm, his jaw tense. “Because our future is important to me.”

  Gemma lay down too, her stomach roiling with emotion. He didn’t understand but he would. His future was important to her too. More important, in all honesty, than her own.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, they headed out to the fields. On their way, Will sent his only stable worker to deliver the message to Blair. “He says that I have a hard time asking for help and I guess he’s right.” Will grimaced, his mouth pulling down as the man rode away. “Feels like I’ve failed.”

  “You haven’t. Not yet and not by asking for help, Will.” She took his hand. He was a strong man but he didn’t have to be everything to everyone. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the more we’ll get done.”

  He gave her a smile. “Thank ye, love.”

  Love. The word washed over her making her heart swell in her chest. She loaded Ewan and Fiona in the wagon and they set out for Mary’s croft.

  Her feelings held her until the little farmhouse came into view. Then she caught her breath. Sean had lived there with his other wife. Somehow, though, the same feelings of resentment didn’t surface. If Sean hadn’t left, she never would have ended up here. She’d never have met someone who really loved her.

  That made her blink with surprise. Looking over at Will, she reached for his hand.

  “Are ye all right?” he asked, his baritone warming her further.

  “I’m absolutely fine. Better than that even.” She gave him a nod.

  His eyebrows rose up. “I didn’t expect to hear that.”

  Leaning close to him, she placed her cheek on his shoulder. “If not for what Sean did, I would never have met you.”

  “When you talk like that, it makes me think that ye’re considering a future with me after all.”

  She sat up then. “Will, it’s not that I don’t want you for my own…” But her words died as a woman stepped out on the porch holding a babe on her hip and a little one by the hand. “Mary.”

  “Aye,” Will replied. “That’s Mary.”

  As they moved closer, she could see the woman’s brown hair and classic features. She was a beauty, there was no doubt, but dark circles under her eyes made her look tired and beaten down.

  “Hello,” Mary called stepping down off the porch. “I’m so glad ye’re here.” Her voice caught on the words. “I was afraid the rain would wash all the seed away and then we’d have nothing.” Gemma watched as she clutched the baby closer.

  “Mary, it’s all right.” Will gave the woman a smile. “Blair, my brother, is coming to help. Ye can leave with him when he goes if ye’d like. But I told ye, ye and yer boys will be taken care of.”

  Gemma watched a tear streak down Mary’s face. “Thank ye.”

  She didn’t feel angry, or jealous in this moment. A wave of regret washed over her, squeezing her heart. She felt sorry for Mary. “Hi Mary, I’m Gemma.” She didn’t reach out her hand. “I was wondering if you could watch Fiona and Ewan today so that I might help in the field.”

  Mary gave a tight nod. “Of course,” she answered.

  Gemma climbed down and plucked Ewan out of the wagon, then helped Fiona down. Fiona notched her chin. “I don’t need to be taken care of with the babies. I want to help.”

  Gemma looked to Will who nodded. “All right then,” she answered. “Let me help you get Ewan settled.”

  Mary jerked her chin in response and turned back toward the house. When they stepped inside, Gemma couldn’t help but look around. How many times had she wondered what this place would be like?

  It was small, clean, and very tidy. Pots hung on their hooks from the ceiling, and every surface was wiped clean. She searched for a single bit of evidence Sean ever lived there but found nothing. Not one stitch of clothing, or item that she recognized, could be seen.

  “I heard about your husband. I’m sorry for your loss.” Gemma looked to the other woman, whose eyes were fixed on the floor.

  “Thank ye,” she replied. “Did I hear that you are a widow as well?”

  Gemma tried to control her racing pulse. Did Mary know who she was? “Yes. But I wasn’t left with children to care for.”

  Mary’s gaze snapped up to hers. “These babies are the only good thing Sean ever did. The man was good for little else.”

  Gemma attempted to keep her mouth from falling open but she wasn’t sure she was successful. “My husband was the same. Spent more time in the pub than he ever did working.”

  “Maybe they were related,” Mary’s lip curled. “I let a handsome face and a smooth tongue trick me.”

  Gemma nodded. She understood why the magistrate and Will were trying to help Mary. She was a good woman who had just chosen the wrong man and learned h
er lesson. “You’ll never make that mistake again. I promise you that.”

  Mary gave her a small smile. “I’d say I wish I hadn’t made it the first time but then I wouldn’t have them.”

  Her heart constricted in her chest. That made Gemma ache. Mary was right. Babies were a gift. Gemma hugged Ewan a little closer as she thought about the past and the future. Sean had taught her many lessons. The worst of the lot, though, was that she couldn’t make a baby. “Mary,” she took a tentative step closer to the other woman. “If ye want to stay here, I’m sure I can talk to Laird Sinclair.”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t, but thank ye. I think a fresh start might be just what we need.”

  Gemma nodded. Mary had figured that out a lot sooner than Gemma had. Leaving her old home and coming here had finally allowed her heart to heal.

  The whinny of another horse had Mary cross the room and look out the tiny window. “Who is it?”

  “Mr. McLean,” Mary answered.

  Gemma started. The magistrate? Here? What if he told Mary who she was? Gemma had come to grips with their shared history, but Mary might not have. “Why?”

  “He stops in to check on us,” Mary answered as she smoothed her hair.

  Gemma raised a brow. “Are ye certain ye want to leave?”

  Mary turned back to her, a mischievous smile touching her lips. “Some men prefer the chase.”

  Gemma stepped next to her. Mary was going to be just fine. “Mary, about your husband…”

  “I already ken,” the other woman answered. “Let’s agree that neither of us is to blame.”