The Scot's Angel

by Keira Montclair

  “Nari and I both have. He’s there now.”

  His sire sat down in a chair, looking more defeated than excited to see him. “All these years I’ve waited for word of you. First I was told you were taken in by a clan, then someone told me you were dead. ‘Twas then I gave up looking. Dead or alive in the Highlands, I thought never to hear from you again. I’d lost my sight enough that I knew I’d never be able to identify you.” He shook his head as if fighting to understand what he’d just learned, trying to make it fit with all that took place so many years ago. “’Tis when I came here. I thought if I came to work at the abbey, the Lord would forgive me for how badly I had failed you. Decided to finish my life being of use to someone. Forgive me, Thorn. Please.”

  “Papa, how did you go blind?”

  “Och, it started on the ship. Happens to many sailors who spend time in the sun. The orb is too strong.” He hung his head, the tears lessening, although they still glistened in the glow of the fire. “The Highlands. You lads are happy? They were good to you? Kept your bellies full?”

  “Aye, Papa. Verra good to us.”

  “Are you married? Have I any grandbairns?”

  “Nay.”

  “Why not? You were always a good-looking lad. Find yourself a sweet lass and marry her, have some bairns. ’Tis the most important part of life. It pleases me that I have found you, lad. It gives me a better understanding of all that happened.”

  “What do you mean, Papa?”

  “Some things happen for reasons you never understand until years later. Now I understand why I didn’t return in time to find you. ’Twas the Lord’s plan for you.”

  “What?” Thorn asked, shocked. “That makes no sense.”

  His father sighed and stood up. “I didn’t have the coin to keep your belly full. The Grants did. They taught you things I could never teach you. They made you into a warrior. Going to the Grants also allowed you to stay with Nari, and his sire did pass away out to sea. I couldn’t have fed you both.” He patted his son’s shoulder. “Now I understand and I can go in peace when my time comes. I was willing to take my punishment for the wicked things I’d done or allowed to be done, but I wanted you to be safe and happy…and you were.”

  “Papa, I still love you. I always will.” His own eyes misted at his father’s words. Had this truly been the Lord’s plan for them?

  “I’ll always love you, lad. Remember that. You were my pride and joy, and you still are.” His father nodded, as if still considering all he’d learned, but then said, “I have my chores to complete. Mayhap we can talk for longer on the morrow?”

  “I would like that.”

  The old man shuffled off down the passageway, the tap of his wooden stick telling Thorn exactly how far away he’d gotten. He sat on a stool close to the hearth, his mind churning steadily.

  He thought of all that had just happened, from Sela’s accident to the urge he’d felt to ride off in search of his father. Had those things happened for a reason, too? Was he meant to find his sire to give the old man peace? To give himself some peace? He stared up at the cross hanging over the hearth, and a delicious sense of clarity came over him.

  He knew what he had to do.

  He had to return to Clan Grant and make Claray his wife, if she’d still have him. Claray Grant was his purpose in life, and he’d been foolish not to realize it long, long ago.

  An old blind man had opened his eyes in just one night.

  He was so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the approach of the man nearby until a clatter drew his attention to the door. Two men stepped into the chamber, their faces red from cold.

  Henry stepped into the doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. “Thought you’d run away, aye? I don’t think so. There’s a price for running off, and you’ll be paying it after we get you away from here. You promised to help us find the wealth, and now you’ll lead us straight to the coffers.”

  Thorn startled at the sight of them. “Where is Umfrey?”

  “Umfrey didn’t make it. He fell off his horse and snapped his leg nearly in two. We had to end his misery. That makes more coin for Ewan and me.” Henry grabbed Thorn by the arm and shoved him, pressing his dagger to Thorn’s back. “Now lead the way.”

  Thorn quickly thought through what he knew about the abbey. Although some aspects of the building may have changed over the years, the maze of passageways and dark stairs had not. Claray had hated the dark, and so he’d always volunteered to explore with her.

  They’d found a locked chamber in the cellars once, and one of the helpers had told them to stay away.

  Of course, he and Nari had come back to that locked door on another occasion and tried yanking the door open, but to no avail. One needed a key to get inside. If any wealth was kept in the abbey, it was kept there, but the last thing he intended to do was give these men what they wanted, even if he’d had a key.

  But he knew every chamber along that passageway, including the one where many tools were kept. If he could get the two daft fools to follow him down, he’d find a way to get inside and find a tool, any tool, he could use against them.

  “If I help you here, will you return my sword?” If they gave him enough to go on, he’d be able to find the sword Connor had given him. He had to try to get it back.

  “Ewan has it,” Henry said dismissively. “Tis too heavy for me. Ewan, once we find all the coin, you’ll give him back his sword. You can buy a new one.”

  “Fair enough, but only once I get the coin.”

  Thorn sighed and indicated for them to follow him. He went the back way, grabbing a torch off the wall, and leading them through a maze of staircases and passageways into the deepest trenches of the abbey. When he reached the end of the passageway, he guided them to the door of the locked chamber. “This is where the coffers are located, but we need the key. It’s in the next chamber, hidden behind all the tools.”

  He pointed to the door, then pushed past them to get to the chamber he knew to be full of shovels, armor, daggers, metal statues, and other paraphernalia. His plan was to move a shovel, pretending he was clearing the spot where the key was hidden, and then swing around, catching both of the would-be thieves in the face.

  Ewan said, “We’re about to be rich, Henry. I knew it would happen someday.”

  “Shut up, Ewan,” Henry said. “We don’t need anyone coming down to investigate.”

  “We’re in the bowels of the building. No one will hear us down here,” Thorn said, and he believed it to be true. One time he’d fallen and yelled for Nari, but his friend hadn’t heard him until he nearly arrived at the door.

  He was within a few horse lengths of finishing this, and his pulse sped up in anticipation. Worried his eyes might give him away, he stared down at the floor in the dark chamber.

  Which was probably why he didn’t notice the fourth person arrive until he heard the sound of metal cracking a skull.

  Ewan’s.

  He spun around, surprised to see his father swinging a large piece of metal, catching Ewan first and then aiming for Henry. Ewan crumpled to the floor, but Henry caught the movement an instant before it happened, so he turned and grabbed the makeshift weapon, dodging it and yanking it out of Thorn’s sire’s hands.

  “Run, Thorn!” he yelled. “Do not worry about me.”

  “I’ll not run.” No way was he leaving his father to fight this battle alone. He grabbed a small sword off the wall and whirled, catching Henry’s arm before the man could strike his father, then plunged it into Henry’s belly, the shocked expression on his face—one that gave him a strong sense of satisfaction.

  Ewan pulled himself up slowly, going for Thorn’s sword, but before he could unsheathe it, Thorn’s father pulled out a dagger and struck him in his flank, a wound that dropped him to the ground instantly. His aim was impeccable, even more so because he could not see anything.

  “Is that the last of them, son?”

  “Aye, Papa,” he said, reaching over to clasp his si
re’s shoulders and hugging him close. “Many thanks to you.”

  “I knew they were trouble as soon as they came inside.”

  “How could you tell?” He couldn’t help but wonder how a blind man had managed to follow them all the way down here, let alone attack them so ably.

  “Evil men give off a stench I don’t like. As I said, I know this area verra well, so ’twas easy for me to follow their voices. When I heard them go after you, I waited in the alcove until you passed me.”

  “You had excellent timing.” He put his arm around his sire’s shoulders and they walked slowly back down the passageway.

  His father said, “I’ll send some guards down to take care of the survivor. We’ll hold him in a cell until the storm is over, then bring the magistrate in to take care of him.”

  “How did you learn to use a dagger so well? I can hardly believe how quickly you made it down here.”

  His father stopped and turned to face him. “Well, I owed you. I hope I’ve made up for some of the foolish choices I made when I was younger. I wasn’t the greatest father, but I did try.”

  Thorn wrapped his father in his embrace, hoping the action would tell his sire more than any words could do. He heard him sigh as he returned the hug. Thorn stood back and patted his father’s shoulder. “You have, Papa. And you’ve helped me to make a big decision.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a lass I need to go after. I love her verra much, and I’ll not wait any longer. I wish to ask her to marry me.”

  “Wise choice, Thorn. ’Twas the happiest time in my life, when I was married to your mother and we had a wee one in our home.”

  Thorn, suddenly confused, asked, “But you always said Mama died when she birthed me. She didn’t?”

  His father turned and continued to lead the way down the passage to the staircase. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth because ’twas too painful. Your mother lived nearly a year after you were born, but the fever took her. The healer said it was from a complication of birthing you, it just took a long time.” His shoulders slumped at the memory.

  Thorn wasn’t ready to let go of his father, so he followed him up the poorly lit staircase until they stepped into the main passageway. “Papa, do you wish to travel with me? I’m headed back to the Highlands.”

  His sire stopped in his tracks, looking at him unseeingly. “Nay, while it pleases me to find you, I don’t think I could handle that journey at this time of the year. But I hope you’ll visit me sometime.”

  “Of course. How about if I promise to bring my wife back in the spring?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dyna woke up the next morn in a strange bed, and it took her a few minutes to recall all that had transpired. She stared up at the beams in the ceiling, her arm going to the other side of the bed, confirming what she already knew to be true. Derric had already gone belowstairs.

  A sudden memory caught her. She bolted up in bed, sitting as tall as possible, as a powerful memory stole over her. Tears in her eyes, she whispered, “Claray. Grandmama.”

  In the dream, her grandmother had come to her bed and sat down beside her. She’d startled awake, and her grandmama had smiled, patted her hand, and said, “Do not worry. Grandpapa and I took care of Claray. She’ll be fine until the storm ends. Then you’ll find her in your favorite cave.”

  She reached for her grandmother’s hand and said, “Stay. Where’s Grandsire?”

  A voice in the distance called to her, and she turned to find him standing at the end of her bed, a much younger version of the grandfather she so loved. In fact, he bore an amazing resemblance to her sire with his long, dark hair. “We left Claray with plenty of food, so don’t go after her until the storm ends.”

  “But I can go get her now… Just tell me where.”

  “Nay,” his booming voice carried. “We don’t need to find you in a snow drift either. Tamp down that stubborn streak of yours, granddaughter. Leave me to enjoy my wife in peace. When the storm ends, you’ll have plenty of time to go after her. And since I know you are stubborn, Granddaughter, I’ll remind you that we are both watching you. And please stop grieving for me. You have a wonderful husband and two beautiful lassies to enjoy.” A mischievous look lit in his eyes. “Might I add I had to go to some lengths to get that lad to accept all of your faults, lass.”

  She’d scowled at that, an expression that had deepened as the two faded from view. “Nay, don’t go,” she’d whispered…and then she’d awoken to an empty room.

  Dyna stared at the end of the bed, hoping to lock the image of her younger grandfather in her mind forever. She found herself smiling at his jest about Derric. His comment had brought her back to the deserted cottage where a daft man had held her and her grandsire captive. The situation had been dangerous and frightening in the beginning, but it had somehow ended in hilarity. “I love you, too, Grandpapa,” she said in a soft whisper.

  Then, because she really didn’t care to wait, she threw the furs back and hopped out of bed, looking for something to wear on her feet. When she was finally ready, she raced out the door, flying down the stairs so quickly she nearly lost her footing and went airborne.

  An eerie quiet hung in the hall, everyone seemingly lost to their thoughts. Derric sat across from Uncle Aedan, Tara, and Riley at one of the trestle tables. Brin was just entering.

  But it was the other guests who shocked her. Aunt Brenna was there, along with Aunt Gwyneth and Uncle Logan, and Sorcha and Cailean. “What are you all doing here?” she asked, frozen in place at the end of their table. On a different table sat Alasdair and Emmalin with their bairns along with Els, Joya, and family. “Els? Alasdair? What’s this about?”

  Derric took her hand and tugged her down into the empty seat next to him. “Leave them be for a few moments. ’Tis too early. They have good reason for being here.”

  Dyna couldn’t wait patiently for an explanation, not after what she’d just experienced. “Why? Did something happen?”

  Logan got up and began to pace in front of the hearth. “Dreams, we’re all having dreams. I dreamed of Alex, Gwynie dreamed of Maddie, Brenna dreamed of her brother. We’ve all had different dreams of one of them or the other. We headed straight for Grant land, but the blasted storm forced us to take a different route. I had to make sure we had beds for Gwynie and Brenna.”

  Alasdair muttered, “He was there! Directly in front of me. It was almost as if I could touch Grandsire. And he was young again. Young! Standing at the end of my bed, and I swear my sire was standing behind him.”

  Emmalin nodded in agreement, but said nothing, a haunted expression on her face.

  Els mumbled in short sentences, “His hair was so dark. He stood in front of me. He looked just like you and Connor.” He stared at Alasdair as if in shock.

  Dyna turned to Derric, who was staring at his porridge, stirring and stirring and stirring…

  She grabbed his hand and said, “You, too?”

  His gaze shot up to hers, and he whispered, “I didn’t say that.” He yanked his hand away and took a mouthful of porridge.

  “But you did. You all did. Uncle Aedan?”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “Both of them standing at the end of my bed.”

  Derric tossed his utensil down and said, “Enough. Stop trying to make us all daft. It can’t mean anything. Dyna, what the hell does it mean? Joya? Tell them all they’re daft. Nay, don’t say anything, just tell me… Nay, don’t tell me.”

  Dyna leaned over and kissed her husband’s cheek. “You’re talking in circles, love.”

  He sighed, so deeply everyone heard him. “I know. I don’t believe in ghosts, but what else could it be?”

  “Spirits. They’re just spirits who have come for two reasons. One, to let you know Claray is safe until the storm ends. And secondly, they wish to let us all know they are happy where they are,” Riley said. “Grandsire knows how hard this Yule will be without him. And I think
he’s especially sensitive to how his death has impacted Dyna and Claray.”

  “Did anyone see anything different?” Tara asked.

  Dyna mopped up the wetness on her cheek with her sleeve. “Nay, they looked verra happy. Grandsire especially. And he was young again.” She giggled through her tears. “Called me stubborn. He said to stop grieving for him, but I… Actually, after some of the things he said, mayhap I can.” Then she reached over to her husband, kissed the top of his head, and said, “He mentioned how fond he was of you, you big oaf.”

  “I’m going outside to check on the storm,” Derric said, giving her hand a squeeze.

  Alasdair jumped. “I’ll go with you.”

  Els said, “I’ll be behind you.”

  Both followed Derric out the door without a backward glance, passing Brin at the door.

  Brin said, “I’ve been out to the stables. We should be able to look for Claray by high sun. The wind is slowing and so is the snow, but ’tis still mighty deep. ’Twill make for slow movement over to the abbey. When we leave after a storm, we always stop there to check on them. We’ll search for Claray from there.”

  “She could be perfectly safe inside the abbey.” Aedan got out of his chair and brought over another loaf of bread from the side table, slicing it for the group.

  “Grandsire said she’s in a cave.” Dyna didn’t even look at anyone as she said it. “He said ’tis my favorite one, so it must be the one closest to the abbey.”

  “Aye, I believe you’re correct, Dyna,” Uncle Logan said. “We’ll go check it.”

  “Poor Claray. It must be mighty cold in that cave.” She couldn’t help but feel an ache in her heart, for her sister and her grandparents.

  “Nay,” Riley said. “She has angels protecting her.”

  How she prayed Riley was right.

  The door flew open, shocking them all to attention. Derric entered, then stepped aside for everyone to see the newly arrived guest. “Look who I found outside.”

  “Come in, Thorn,” Dyna called out, waving him over. “You won’t like what you’re about to learn, but you can surely help us. Fill your belly, we have traveling to do if the storm is done.”