The Saint

by Allison Butler

  The sun began its downward arc. Cal drew Mungo to a halt and stared across a grassy field at the tower belonging to Restenneth Priory. A heaviness settled deep inside his chest. His arm tightened about Isla.

  Chapter 14

  Though the man sitting mounted behind Isla said naught, the stillness and the sense of relief and safety that replaced the snap and sizzle separating them like a solid stone wall were more than enough to prove they’d arrived at their destination.

  She wanted to ask him to describe what he saw, to paint a picture of the priory in her mind. Anything to avoid admitting, even to herself, how unhappy she was they’d finally arrived. She’d foolishly allowed her mind to imagine what life would be like if Callum was a permanent part of her every day. She’d begun to wish for things that could never be. The strength and determination that had held her upright since they’d set out from Aberdeen seemed to have deserted her now, abandoned her when they’d left Aggie at the kirk in Aberlemno. To speak would risk revealing her great disappointment now their journey together was at an end.

  Her disappointment wasn’t restricted to knowing they’d soon part ways, but was also to do with not knowing what had happened to Callum’s mother. His search had become hers. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was he hadn’t found all the answers he’d been looking for, but to voice such sentiments aloud would somehow give added weight to the defeat she was certain he was already carrying.

  ‘We have arrived.’

  Three simple words that should have sent her heart soaring with relief but instead sent her heart plummeting to the soles of her feet. Isla swallowed and nodded to acknowledge she’d heard what he’d said.

  ‘Will your uncle be expecting you?’

  ‘I dinnae believe so.’ How would her uncle take the news of his brother’s passing? ‘Once he fell ill, Father never left the cottage. He last visited his brother more than five summers past.’ Isla doubted her uncle even knew his brother had been sick.

  ‘Come, we shall find him.’

  Mungo moved beneath them, holding a steady walking pace. It was times like these, when her uncertainty about everything was high, that she wished she could see. Her curiosity regarding what the priory looked like grew with each step. She wanted to ask Callum what he saw, but he’d done so much for her already and she loathed asking him for anything more.

  ‘Restenneth Priory is larger than I expected. ’Tis built from stone, but some of the buildings, like the tower, appear older than others.’

  Isla straightened in the saddle as a feeling of warmth settled in her heart. She took each of Callum’s low-voiced descriptions and pieced them together to create a picture of the priory in her mind.

  ‘The surrounding lands are vast and green. There are several sheep and cattle in the field to our left. I see nae one about, but the day is near ending and the priests are likely at prayer.’

  How would her uncle react to her being here? Would he see her arrival as a welcome surprise? He’d be saddened by the loss of his brother, but she hoped he wouldn’t see her as a hindrance. How could he not. She was blind for pity’s sake. Now she’d arrived, what would the rest of her life be like?

  Where would she live? What would she be expected to do with her time? Would she be happy dedicating her life to God’s work? She’d have to be, for she had nowhere else to go. She had no choice.

  All movement ceased. Birds chirped from a distance and there was a freshness about the air that made her think of open spaces. Isla’s heartbeat doubled.

  ‘Wait here while I ask for your uncle.’

  Isla nodded and tightened her grip on the pommel as Callum dismounted. The sound of his booted footfalls altered as he walked across grass and onto stone before stopping and knocking on a solid timber door. Mungo was obviously more accustomed to waiting than she was, as he stood unmoving while they waited for someone to answer. Isla clenched her hands tighter still as the skin across her shoulders and up her neck seemed to shrink and mould more closely to her bones.

  Perhaps the priory had closed and the priests, including her uncle, had moved on to somewhere else. Having no one and nowhere else to go, she’d have to remain with Callum and go wherever he did. Her pounding heart leapt at the thought, but the instant her mind wondered how Callum would feel having her stay with him caused her heart to fall hard and awkwardly.

  His repeated knock sounded both harder and longer and answered her unspoken question. He was desperate for someone to answer. She wasn’t his responsibility, should never really have been, yet he’d fulfilled his promise and got her here safely. Despite not discovering anything more about his family after finding the cross he’d been searching for, he was returning to the Borders and resuming the life he’d been living before he set out to find his origins. He had friends and a purpose and didn’t need the added weight of a blind woman lingering about his neck. He’d done so much for her, risked everything, for naught in return. Was he a saint?

  A saint whose kisses turned her knees to water and awakened wants and desires she’d only ever spoken of before. He kissed her like there was more between them than a promise to her father. Or was that how all men kissed?

  A grating noise shot prickling awareness down her nape and across her shoulders. The sound of metal gouging wood paused a moment before resuming, quickly followed by the sharp creak of a heavy door straining open.

  ‘We are here to see Father Beaton.’

  ‘We?’

  From the single word the stranger spoke, Isla imagined a man of twenty or so years taking a step out through the doorway to peer around for whoever else made up the ‘we’ in Callum’s enquiry.

  ‘Everyone is at vespers.’

  It wasn’t difficult to tell the man was annoyed at being disturbed from evening prayers. Perhaps they should leave and come back tomorrow.

  ‘We will wait.’

  Callum’s reply flushed Isla’s hopeful thought out of her head.

  A resigned sigh followed. ‘Very well.’

  Booted footsteps hastened closer to where Isla remained in the saddle.

  ‘We will await your uncle inside,’ Callum said quietly. ‘I’ll help you dismount.’

  Isla released the pommel, turned to her left, and lifting her arms, waited for his large hands to settle at her waist. The moment they did, she leaned out away from where she sat to assist Callum as he helped her. Just as they’d done for what seemed a thousand times in less than a week. Had their time together truly been less than a week? It seemed so much longer yet not long enough.

  Something strong and good and permanent had developed over a short time. Isla didn’t want it to end, but was she alone in her thinking?

  Her feet touched the ground and like a long-wedded couple, their hands found each other and settled into place. Callum guided her across the grass onto the harder stone and then into the coolness inside.

  ‘I am Brother Marcas.’

  ‘This is Isla and I am Callum.’

  Only a slight hesitation, then, ‘Please, come this way.’

  Three sets of footsteps hastened and echoed off the walls of a long stone passageway, before they changed direction and entered another corridor Isla suspected was only half enclosed. They drew to a halt.

  ‘Please, sit. I will let Father Beaton know he has callers. He will be with you once prayers are complete.’

  ‘My thanks.’

  Brother Marcas’s footfalls hurried away and Callum steered her to the bench seat behind where they stood. The moment she sat he made to withdraw his hand, but Isla wasn’t ready to let go of him yet.

  ‘May I?’ She asked cupping her fingers about his wrist.

  ‘Aye,’ he said and sat beside her, tentatively covering the back of her hand with his other. ‘When was the last time you … spoke with your uncle?’

  Isla knew Callum had changed the words he spoke due to her blindness. ‘I last saw my uncle when I was ten summers. He’d come to Aberdeen for Mother’s burial.’

  ‘Does h
e know of your condition?’

  ‘Father mentioned the blurring I’d been experiencing, but I dinnae believe he is aware I have fully lost my sight.’

  ‘Are you afraid of him finding out?’

  ‘Nae.’

  ‘Isla?’

  ‘Perhaps a little.’

  Silence.

  ‘Aye.’ It was then Isla realised her fingers were clenching and unclenching on Callum’s arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You have naught to be sorry for.’ His palm closed more firmly about the back of her hand.

  ‘Perhaps, but I have much to be grateful for and I have ye to thank for much of it.’

  He said nothing more, but his arm stayed beneath hers and his palm didn’t pull away.

  He knew most things about her, and while she was concerned at how her uncle would react to being responsible for his blind niece, her agitation stemmed from how much she dreaded being separated from Callum. But of course she’d never say. He had a life to go back to while she would learn to get on with hers.

  Purposeful footsteps hurried toward them and drove them both to their feet. Callum adjusted their hands until the forearm of her left arm and her fingers rested on top of his right arm and hand. The steps faltered briefly before marching ahead with renewed purpose and stopped only a small distance from where she stood, her heart thumping in her chest and her knees weak and shaking beneath her skirts.

  ‘Isla?’

  She recognised her uncle’s voice as if she’d heard him speak every day since.

  ‘Aye, Uncle Norval. Or should I call ye Father Beaton?’

  ‘I’d prefer Uncle Norval when nae others are about.’

  Isla smiled and hoped he couldn’t see how much her cheeks were shaking. ‘Uncle, this is Callum. He is the reason I have arrived here safely and unharmed.’

  * * *

  Callum didn’t miss how the priest’s attention fell directly to where Isla’s hand lay along his arm as he approached. It wasn’t until her uncle’s gaze lifted to hers to find her lashes lowered that some spark of memory lessened the depth of the twin ruts that appeared between his brows. Frown lines shared by niece and uncle, but the similarities didn’t end there.

  Though cropped short and showing patches of silver grey above his ears, Father Beaton’s hair was the same chestnut colour as his niece’s. Both sported a determined angle to their chin and Cal wondered if Isla’s father had looked much like his brother. It had been hard to tell what Thane had looked like due to disfiguring lumps of skin caused by his illness, but his hair too had been a reddish-brown hue. More solid than either Isla or Thane, Norval Beaton stood half a head shorter than Callum and half as wide across his black-robed-clad shoulders.

  Blue eyes like his brother’s turned to appraise Cal from head to toe at Isla’s high-praise introduction.

  ‘Thank you for protecting my niece, Callum. It is a pleasure to meet you, but I wonder why you had the need to.’

  Callum returned the priest’s bow. ‘The honour is mine, Father. I believe Isla is the one who should tell you the reasons why.’

  ‘Aye.’ Isla’s chin dipped low and Cal covered the back of her hand without thought.

  The priest’s attention momentarily shifted to Cal and then to where Brother Marcas had disappeared, before returning to his niece. ‘Come, we shall go somewhere quiet and talk.’

  Isla’s hand stayed on his arm as Father Beaton led them along several passageways, some walled in on both sides, while others were only closed in on one. At the end of a closed-in corridor, he opened a door and ushered them through into what must be the priory’s kitchen. The smell of burning wood coming from the large hearth at the far end of the good-sized room was inviting. But he watched Isla’s expression closely to ensure the heat and the wood smoke didn’t remind her of the night she was attacked. An open curiosity claimed her features, much to Cal’s relief.

  A mixture of herbs and vegetables bubbled away in a heavy iron pot hanging over the flames and dozens of brown loaves sat waiting to be eaten or given away as alms.

  ‘Please, sit,’ Father Beaton said, pulling out two timber chairs from beneath the long wooden table, closest to the fire.

  Cal guided Isla into her seat, and her uncle took his place at the head of the table to Isla’s right. Once they were settled, Cal looked at the priest, gestured to the fire with a slight nod and when he received a nod in return, he spoke quietly. ‘I will wait by the hearth.’ He lifted Isla’s hand from his arm and offered it to her uncle, who thankfully took her fingers without hesitation.

  The heat from the flames strengthened as he stood staring down at the crackling fire. The contents in the pot popped and boiled louder but not loud enough to drown out Isla’s heart-wrenching and tearful rendition of all that had happened. For the first time since he’d met the beautiful and determined young blind woman, she allowed all her pain and suffering to spill free. Isla’s anguish tore strips from his soul. From the loss of her mother and baby brother to her father’s illness, the bargain he’d made with Dalziel and finally her father’s death. Not once did she mention her own plight of losing her sight.

  He grit his teeth to fight off the urge to go to her and hold her and won. He wanted to look back at them to ensure Father Beaton still held her hand and was offering the comfort of touch Cal had grown to know she liked and needed. The man was a priest as well as her uncle for the Almighty’s sake. But he was also a stranger to her, someone she hadn’t seen since she was a young lass, when she still had the ability to see.

  Cal glanced over his shoulder and noted their hands were still joined on top of the table. But before he had the chance to peer heavenward and release the huge breath he’d been holding, he took a better look at Isla and how her shoulders were hunched and her head bowed low. He noted the white-knuckled fingers of her left hand digging into her right side and was striding back to her before his mind registered taking the first step.

  He wanted to position an empty chair behind hers and draw her upper body into the front of his as if they were still mounted. He wanted to lift her up and sit on her chair and settle her in his lap. Instead, he placed a chair close beside hers, wove his right arm with her left and linked their fingers like vines of ivy.

  The deep sigh that escaped her lips and the raising of her chin finally gave him leave to release his breath and draw another. He thought he’d been doing the right thing giving them privacy, but somewhere along the way between Aberdeen and here they’d each grown to rely on the other. Cal’s next thought shoved the last aside.

  God above, what must her uncle be thinking?

  Cal met the other man’s narrowed gaze and refused to look away. Neither he nor Isla had done anything wrong and although Father Beaton didn’t know him or of his choice to remain celibate, he needed to know Isla’s judgement was sound.

  ‘Callum was with Father when he died.’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘Father’s final words were to ask Callum to promise to see me safely here to ye at Restenneth Priory. He has kept true to his word.’

  Isla’s speech was calm but her grip remained tight on his, making Cal believe she was concerned at how her uncle would receive the news of having her as his responsibility.

  ‘Ah, lass, you have suffered much for one so young.’ Father Beaton placed his free hand over the top of hers. ‘Never fear. We will find somewhere here for you and you will be safe.’

  Despite her uncle’s reassurance, Isla’s grip on Cal’s hand did not ease.

  ‘I will fetch you something to eat and find you each appropriate lodgings for the night.’

  Father Beaton stood and made his way to the iron pot; his disapproval of them travelling alone over the last week was obvious. He was ensuring they understood they would not be spending another night together.

  Cal had fulfilled his promise and delivered Isla safely into her uncle’s keeping. There was no need for him to linger any longer. ‘Dinnae trouble yourself. I’ll nae be staying.’

  Isla’s hold on his
fingers grew impossibly tighter. ‘Stay this night. Please.’

  Two frown lines, so like her uncle’s, appeared between her shapely brows. Her lips were parted and the urge to lean close and press his mouth on hers, to soothe her worry and to ease his longing to taste her again was interrupted by the dull thud of steaming soup bowls being, none too gently, set down on the table. Isla’s frown lines looked non-existent compared to the deep ruts separating Father Beaton’s brows. His blue eyes glared down at Cal and for the first time since meeting her uncle, gave him the reassurance that he would do all in his power to protect his niece.

  But it also made him realise Isla needed to understand that too, and by the unwavering grip she still had on his hand, her uncle needed to make his protective instincts clear. Staying the night would give the priest the chance.

  ‘Very well,’ he replied, gently squeezing Isla’s hand. ‘I will leave in the morn.’

  ‘Thank ye.’ Isla’s smile lit her beautiful face and seemed to find a way to reach inside his chest and touch his heart.

  Cal looked away and found Father Beaton’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Finally, with a single no-nonsense nod, he pushed the food he’d prepared toward them. ‘Eat.’ He withdrew Isla’s hand from around Cal’s and placed a spoon made of bone into her grip. He then tore the loaf in two and set one half beside Isla’s bowl. ‘I will return soon.’

  The priest strode to the entrance, but instead of closing the door as he left, he pushed it wide and threw a last meaningful glance over his robed shoulder.

  Cal smiled inwardly and wondered what the man of the cloth would think if he knew that he’d left his niece in the safe hands of a man sworn to celibacy. He looked at the woman beside him licking droplets of broth from her soft lips and his line of thinking changed. His body hardened. To have something he’d never had or craved so powerfully, before he’d met this woman, pulsed through his veins and left his hands shaking.

  He concentrated on eating, but tasted nothing, feeling like the loaf of bread Father Beaton had torn in two. Would she miss him as much as he would miss her? Where was her uncle? The longer he sat beside her, alone, the more he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her mouth and more.