Makyn still had not birthed her lamb, which surprised Tess somewhat. The young woman was too restless, though, to sit beside the ewe. The scent of dawn was already in the air. She pushed herself to her feet and started walking toward the rocky shores.
The sea, the air, the sky…everything seemed calmer.
But not inside of her. Without the distraction of the wind and the storm, the reality of her situation on the Isle of May was suddenly pressing harder on Tess. In all her years here, she had never once considered the possibility of leaving the island. She’d never even thought of being forced to live somewhere else. The thought was frightening.
She still had the nightmares from time to time. The fleeting images of a terrified young girl running through dark corridors and passages. And there were other memories, too, that continued to haunt her. Faces that she could put no name to.
Eleven years had passed, and she had grown less and less eager to find the answers to her childhood questions. Charlotte and Garth had protected her and cared for her, and Tess had gradually become more than happy to forget the past. She’d never thought beyond just living the rest of her life right here.
She stood on the edge of a rock and let the cold water lap up to her shoes. Looking around her, Tess realized she was standing on the same rock that she’d dragged Colin onto not so many days ago. How had everything changed so quickly?
In a storm he’d come to the May. Like a storm he’d thrown her life and what she’d always thought she needed into total disarray. Restless and confused, she pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear and braced herself against a gust of wind whipping off the gray-green sea.
Then, far to the north, she saw them riding the swells. Feeling a sense of panic rise in her chest, Tess strained her eyes to be sure.
Boats.
They were coming for him.
Colin woke with a start. He sat up, unsure for a moment if Tess had called his name or whether he’d dreamed it. He glanced immediately across the room. Her bed was empty.
She called him again. Her voice came from outside the prior’s house. In an instant he was up and reaching for his shirt when she dashed into the chamber.
“They’re coming!” she said breathlessly. She was a whirlwind of motion. Colin didn’t think that she even knew that she had pulled his shirt down over his head and was adjusting his tartan on his shoulder. “Down the east side of the island. I saw them. We must make a fire…signal them so they know you’re here.”
Tess continued to speak hurriedly. Her fingers were flying as she attempted to help him finish dressing. But she never once looked up into his face.
“‘Tis important where you set up…the fire. If you do it by the inlet, then ‘tis an invitation for them to come ashore there. If ‘tis on the high rock on the island, then you are only warning a ship of the dangers of the island reefs.”
She continued on, but Colin was in no hurry. The morning light cast a soft blue tint across the chamber. Her cheeks were flushed. The smell of the sea and fresh salt air surrounded her like the most exotic of aromas.
“Come with me,” he blurted out, surprising himself.
All her movements suddenly ceased. Dark, astounded eyes stared up at him.
“Aye. Come with me, Tess. I will take you to the Highlands. My family will welcome you. You’ll like Benmore Castle…and you can stay there as long as you wish.”
“Nay!” she whispered softly. “I cannot.”
He tried to reach for her. “Tess—”
“Don’t!” she said more firmly, taking a step back. “But you must go. Now. Please…now…Get them to take you to the mainland.”
Colin paused. His mind raced with arguments, but she’d already heard all of them.
“And please don’t tell them about me. Don’t say anything about Garth and Charlotte being dead. Please.”
He nodded, feeling no enthusiasm.
She reached down, picked up the flute, and put it in his hand. “Now go!”
She left him no choice. Frustrated. Angry. A chill of desperation settling in his belly, Colin strode out of the room and across the moor to the sea.
CHAPTER 7
I will take you to the Highlands. My family will welcome you…
Tess shook her head to clear the echo of Colin’s words from her mind. They were his family. His people. She was nothing more than a stranger that he’d run into during a storm. He didn’t need a complication like Tess in his life.
She walked as far as the ruined building of the chapel, watching him until he disappeared over the crest of hill. He never once looked back.
She stabbed away a tear. She could feel a sob rising into her throat and fought to choke it down.
Gone.
The urge to run away boiled up inside of her. The unfairness of what the rest of her life was to be was tearing at her gut. She thought of him standing by this ruined chapel, looking in. Tess could not take it any longer and turned to the western cliffs. Where could she go, though, to escape her thoughts of him?
Before she could take a step, however, Makyn’s bleating penetrated Tess’s distress.
She hurried to the animal. The pregnant ewe was still lying on the dried bedding. This was not the way the births normally went. If the ewe were not having difficulty with the lambing, she would have delivered by now. Tess immediately crouched beside Makyn and, pushing up her sleeves, tried to examine her for trouble. She had stood by many times as Makyn and the other ewes had given birth. For the most part, the sheep would simply lie down and birth a pair of lambs. Once and twice, though, she had watched Garth try to help a mother having difficulties.
Tess put a tight leash on her emotions and focused on the struggling ewe.
“Come on, mother. What is wrong?”
Makyn continued to cry out, but didn’t move when Tess began checking her. It didn’t take long to discover the cause of the sheep’s trouble. She could feel the head, but there was only one leg of the lamb in the birth canal. The other leg must be stopping the birth from proceeding. And if Tess didn’t do something, Makyn and the lamb could both die.
An instant of panic took hold of her, as suddenly she couldn’t remember what to do. None of the births she’d witnessed had involved trouble like this. A complaints of the ewe penetrated her thoughts again, though, and she forced herself to focus on the laboring animal.
“We need to put this right, now, don’t we?”
Tess tried to not think about the large amounts of mucus tinged pink with blood that were darkening the dried seaweed bedding. She forced herself to ignore Makyn’s pained cries and futile struggles. Instead, she closed her eyes and, feeling with one hand, physically pushed the lamb back up the birth canal. It was hard going, but when there was space, she slipped her fingers around the shoulder, trying to find the missing leg.
Her fingers wrapped around the thin leg. Somehow, it must have caught on the rim of the ewe’s pelvis. Working carefully, she started pulling it into the birth canal.
Her efforts had an immediate effect. As soon as the leg was free, Makyn took charge. Two feet appeared first. With the knees came the lamb’s nose. She held her breath as Makyn paused before pushing again. And then the head and shoulders were out, with the rest of the lamb following.
Tears were coursing down Tess’s face, and she sat back on her heels in awe as a second lamb slipped out with none of the trouble of the first one.
Makyn acted as if nothing were amiss and started cleaning both of her lambs. One of them was white and the other nearly black.
Her laughter mixed with her tears as Tess watched the new family. Animals were so much more resilient than people, she thought a few short moments later as the lambs tried to push themselves to their feet. The ewe stood up and shook herself before lying down again a few feet off.
“You’re welcome,” Tess whispered, letting out a breath of relief.
Clouds were racing overhead, though the wind was barely a breeze now. The morning sun was shining in its
full glory. Thoughts of Colin pierced the moment, and she looked with a frown at the hill to the east. The weight in her chest returned instantly. Tess started to wipe away her tears, but she noticed her hands and arms and sleeve were a mess. She rose to her feet and found the front of her dress soaked and stained, too.
Tess turned to go inside and change, but stopped dead in her tracks
“And I thought you’d be spending the day pining over me leaving!”
Colin saw her blink once, twice, as if she couldn’t really believe what she was seeing. He pushed away from the wall of the old church and took a step toward her.
“Well, is this the only welcome I get?”
“You…you’re still here.”
He cast a quick eye over her soiled dress and tearstained face. She was a mess, to be sure. But a beautiful one.
“Why? Why didn’t you go?”
“I decided the sea was still too rough.” He came nearer. “And there was the problem of not knowing who it might be that I was entrusting my life with. And then the question of which village these fishermen were going back to. And then the hardship of finding a way back to Benmore Castle.”
“Those are not very good reasons.”
“Aye.” He touched the flute at his belt. “The truth is, lass, no one had ever complimented me on my musical talent before you. How could I go?”
She smiled, but shook her head.
He halted only a breath away. Their clothes didn’t touch, but he could almost feel the heat emanating from her body. He reached out and looped a finger around dancing tendrils of her hair. Tess’s face was lifted up to his.
“Why did you come back?” she pressed.
“I couldn’t go, Tess. Not without you.”
Fresh tears dropped onto her cheeks, and a world of hope shone in the dark jewels of her eyes.
Colin glanced quickly toward the animals. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed. How you helped her! I felt such…I don’t know how to say it! Nothing has ever made me feel the way I did watching you. Watching them.”
Her cheeks were flushed prettily. “I didn’t do much. ‘Twas Makyn’s doing. ‘Twas only nature at work.”
They both looked at the lambs, who were now nursing. Everything seemed so perfectly normal.
“Well, those wee beasties are contented enough. You, on the other hand, lass, are the one who needs some tending.” Colin began leading her toward the house. Stopping at the well, he drew a large bucket of water.
“You should have gone with those fishermen. You’ve only made it more difficult for both of us by staying,” she said softly as they entered the house. “You belong out there. Among real people. Your own people. And I belong here.”
“I don’t believe you belong here, Tess. The people who cared for you are dead. The churchmen that own this island will think of you only as a nuisance.”
This time she didn’t argue. He put the water near the hearth and built up the fire until the room started losing some of its chill.
She finished washing her hands and face and reached for the dress hanging on a peg—the same one she had been wearing that first night. “Turn around.”
“Let me help you, Tess.”
“I’d do better to dress myself.”
“I was talking about helping you with your past.”
“Oh!”
“And the dress.” He couldn’t help himself.
She put her hands on his shoulders and physically turned him. He suppressed his smile and walked to the window. In the distance, Colin could see the white caps on the sea.
There had been more than the birthing of a pair of lambs that he’d witnessed outside. Watching her, he had seen her self-reliance and her readiness to act, but he’d also seen her frustration, her fears, and her unhappiness when she’d looked off in the direction that he’d gone. For an old hermit—or even a husband and wife—to choose this lonely life was one thing. It was not right for someone Tess’s age—it was not right for Tess—to be all alone.
“Are we friends, Tess?” He had to ask.
“I…have never had a friend before you. So I suppose we are.”
“Then do you trust me?” he asked without turning around. “Do you believe me when I say I genuinely care about your safety…about you as a …a friend?”
“I do.”
Her immediate answer gave Colin the confidence he needed. “Then why don’t you tell me how you came to be living on Isle of May? And why is it that you are so determined to stay here?”
There was a long pause before she spoke. “I am needed here.”
“Tess, this island does not need you.” There was no sound of movement behind him, so Colin turned around. She had changed her dress and was standing beside the hearth, quietly braiding her hair. “I don’t mean to belittle the feat you accomplished today or anything else that you do here. But for centuries these buildings have stood—such as they are—and for centuries more they will stand, too. What you cannot ignore, though, is the very real risk that you take living on this island alone.”
She would not look up at him. Colin let his frustration show in his voice. “There are hundreds of ships that sail past here every year…more of them all the time. And there are many men who are…well, not so honorable as I am. Tess, you cannot even guess how low some of these men are, or how unspeakably they might behave if they were to find you here alone.”
She turned her back to him.
Colin closed the distance between them and turned her around. “Give up this stubbornness. I plead with you as a friend to talk to me. To let me help you.”
“I cannot go back with you to your people.” Her dark eyes were determined.
“And why not?”
“Because…I am not helpless. I can take care of myself.”
He fought the urge to shake her. “And you will. But you don’t have to stay here to prove that. And no one would think you are helpless just because you come back with me.”
She shrugged off his touch and backed away. “It has been so long,” she murmured. “I don’t even know how to live among people anymore.”
“Garth and Charlotte were people. I’m people.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
She pressed her fingers to her temples and turned her back to him again.
“I am not giving up, Tess.” He approached her again. This time he took her hand in his and held it until she turned to him. “Make me understand.”
Silence hung in the room like the mists over Loch Ness. Colin didn’t let go of her—but didn’t speak either—as her struggles inside showed plainly on her face.
“We belong to places, Colin,” she finally cried out. “You belong to…to Benmore Castle. I belong…”
“Don’t start that again.” The words spewed out more harshly than he’d intended. “People move to new places and fashion new lives for themselves all the time.”
“But these people have someone they can go to…or travel with. They are not totally alone.” She tugged her hand free and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “I have no one, Colin. No one. And I am dreadfully afraid of losing what I have here. As perilous as living on the May seems to you, ‘tis all I have.”
She hastily moved to the ladder leading up to the loft area above. He watched in silence as she climbed the rungs and disappeared.
He turned and looked into the fire, fighting the urge to go after her.
By the devil, he’d only just finished at the university. Now was the time for him to live recklessly. To pursue his dreams of sailing the high seas. To live the life of a pirate. To take what he wanted. When he wanted. This was his time to have a hundred women in a hundred ports…without a whit of worry or regret.
At the same time, another voice argued, he had made a choice less than an hour ago not to leave this island when he’d had the opportunity. He’d chosen not to leave without Tess. By St. Andrew, everything was becoming too comp
licated.
Colin quickly realized that his own confusion was a separate battle—one that he would need to fight some other time. He climbed the ladder after her. Reaching the top, he found her sitting cross-legged beside the old sea chest—the same one he’d opened the last time he came up here. She had the top open, and she was touching something inside.
“This is where I might be able to help you,” he said reassuringly. “Perhaps you are not as alone as you think! It may be that there are people out there who are kin to you. I mean, perhaps if you could at least tell me when it was that you came to Isle of May, then I can…”
“Six.” Her attention was completely focused on something she was holding in her hand. “I was six years old.”
Colin saw her lift a child’s dress from the chest and lay it in her lap. He remembered the one he had found in a mending pile downstairs. She took out the cap next, then the shoes. And then he saw her take out the jeweled cross. She stared down at it.
“There was a shipwreck. I don’t know if there were any other survivors. But I was the only one who washed ashore here on the May.”
He came nearer and knelt down on the floor next to her. “Were your parents in the same shipwreck?”
“I wish I knew.” She hastily stabbed at her tears. “There are so few things that I remember from before coming here. My name, my age—those I recall. Everything else, though, is hidden in a thick fog.”
“But there are things that you do remember. Last night when I was playing music for you, the songs tickled something in your memory. You had heard that music before.”
“Aye. Sometimes there are recollections that rush back to me. Faces that I cannot put a name to, or places that I cannot identify. Then there are other times when my mind brings a scene into life and I feel myself watching it. ‘Tis like a dream, as if I’m on the outside of it, looking in. But then it becomes a muddle again, and none of it makes any sense.” Her voice quivered. “And then, there are the nightmares. There is one in particular that comes back over and over.”
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