by Deb Kemper
Amalie grasped Millie’s fine worn hands in hers. “I was afraid for my husband, Millie.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Millie turned her hands over, holding Amalie’s. “Well, I’m sure Himself felt grateful fer yer thoughtfulness. I never see anythin’ in him, but love fer ye, lass. Ye don’t have to sacrifice a thin’.”
Millie lifted Amalie’s hands to her lips, kissed them, and laid them against her cheek. “I love ye like ye were my own. Now,” she rose. “Let’s get yer tea going so we’ll have ye dressed, when yer folks arrive. Granny Mae wants to take a look at ye this morning. While ye eat, I’ll fetch her.”
Chapter 39
Collin caught sight of Rabbi Solomon, his wife on his arm, and his sons in his wake. He watched them make their way across the crowded deck. The smiling rabbi stopped to speak to the captain, who offered his hand. He glanced about the multitude, on shore and spotted Collin, nodding recognition.
Collin strolled towards them, dodging heavily laden men and women’s full skirts. Their children followed in queues behind the ladies, hand in hand.
Rabbi Solomon reached for Collin’s shoulder, “Jeremy, how are you, son?”
Collin allowed the rabbi to pull him into a hug. He slapped the older man’s back. “Well, sir. How was yer voyage?”
Kay watched her cousin’s adopted child a moment, grinning. “It was lovely. Where’s our girl?” She glanced around the throng at the dock.
“Still asleep, when I left. We arrived in Inverness late last night. I’ll fetch yer trunks and we’ll be on our way. Lads, come along.” Collin waved for Amalie’s brothers to follow him. They headed for the area, where cargo unloaded.
The three boys helped Collin load trunks onto the carriage, then vied for the position on top.
“I’m oldest.” Joshua declared, his sidelocks tucked into a leather thong holding his russet hair back from his face.
“Why don’t we settle this with the toss of a coin?” Collin suggested, extracting a coin from his pocket. Before he could throw it into the air, the rabbi interfered.
“I’m the oldest and your papa. You ride in the carriage. I’ll ride atop with Collin.” He watched his three sons climb inside with his wife.
“Are you sure, sir, it may get a bit rough?”
Rabbi Solomon nodded his head. “It’s a good time to speak with you about my daughter.” He grabbed the side and pulled his tall thin, black clad frame up to the seat. Collin joined him. “Now, explain what’s going on with Amalie and tell me where her husband is, at such a time.”
****
Amalie watched from an upstairs balcony for the carriage to arrive. She waited impatiently, wondering where her husband could be. When the carriage came into view, she studied the man sitting atop with Collin. Her father’s constant companions, his black wool hat, and sidelocks were not evident. Puzzled, she turned to her room and slipped her swollen feet into the comfortable wool mules.
She eased down the grand staircase, as the front portals opened to greet her family. Millie waited, in the foyer, with Sanders until she saw Amalie waddling down the stairs.
She left her post to accompany her lady. “Wssht! What’re ye doing up, milady? Granny Mae wants ye to stay abed ’til the bairns come.” Millie held her arm and offered support.
“I know, Millie, but I’m too excited.” She held fast to Millie’s hand, as her stepmother entered the doorway. Amalie stopped in her tracks and relished the first sight of her.
Kay Solomon grinned. “There’s our girl.” Her arms opened and she made haste to envelop most of Amalie in them.
Amalie kept Millie’s hand tightly in her own.
Kay turned and took a good look at Millie, grabbing her loose hand. “You must be Millie! Amalie told us so much about you, in her letters, how you took her in and been a mam to her.” Kay shook Millie’s hand. “Her papa and I appreciate all you’ve done to make our daughter feel at home, Millie. You, madam, are a treasure.”
Millie blushed, her gaze lowered, and nodded. “Thank ye, kindly.”
Amalie smiled at Millie and finally loosed her hand. “Aye, she is, Kay-Kay.”
Rabbi Solomon cleared the door, after he set his sons to unloading the carriage. He waited for the ladies to finish their welcome, studying his daughter. When his wife stepped aside and turned to him, he took the few steps forward and wrapped his only daughter in his arms.
“Papa!” She sighed.
Amalie felt his tears slip down her neck. He shuddered and held her back at arm’s length. He considered her face and then glanced down at her great mound of belly. “You are more beautiful than ever, Amalie.” He smiled through the tears and sniffed.
She nodded her head to him. “Thank you, Papa. I feel I could spend the day just looking at you all.” She turned at a noise on the stairs.
Mallow carried Ewan on her hip. Jessica followed.
“Ah, the children!” Kay clapped her hands in delight. “They’re beautiful.”
Mallow stood Ewan on the marble floor and, keeping his hand in hers, led him to Amalie, who placed her arm across her shoulder. “Our eldest, Mallow, this is my father, Rabbi Elisha Solomon and my mam, Kay-Kay.”
Mallow dropped a curtsy and bowed her head. She swept Jessica forward.
Amalie placed a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Next eldest is Jessica, who was but a wee tot when I first came to her.”
Mallow and Jessica greeted them in unison. “Welcome, Safta. Welcome, Sabba.”
Rabbi and Kay extended their hands in turn to the girls. Ewan wrapped his arms around Mallow’s thigh and hid his face in her skirt.
“Come now, Ewan, to meet your safta and sabba.” Amalie grasped her son’s shoulder and he switched his hold from Mallow to her, burying his face in her skirt. “Well, he’s a little shy sometimes.” She ran her hands over his red gold curls.
Her brothers joined them, along with Collin, who removed gloves, after he sat the last trunk, in the foyer.
Amalie introduced Asa, Aaron, and Joshua to the girls. The lads bowed. The lasses curtsied.
Her father watched her closely and scratched his brow. “Where, may I ask, is our son?”
Amalie sighed and glanced at Collin.
“That, sir, is what I’m on my way to find out. I fear he may’ve run afoul of a devil, on his way home. So, if ye’ll excuse me, milady.” Collin offered Amalie a curt bow, turned back to the door.
“Does he often run afoul of devils?” Rabbi posed his question to Collin.
“On occasion he needs to be rescued. Not as often these days, as when we were younger.” Collin grinned and scratched his head.
“Might I accompany you?” The rabbi offered.
“Nay, sir, I fear ye might not appreciate the amount of—force it generally takes to get ’im back.” Collin waved a hand high in the air and departed.
****
Collin left Coot and Garth’s stallion, Jack, in the woods and walked towards the ruckus ahead. He crept through underbrush, cautiously alert for guards. He carried a bow in his right hand, a quiver full of arrows and a sheathed claymore, on his back. He nocked an arrow in the bow, and leaned into a rowan tree, studying the layout of the rough camp. The small clearing held a half dozen men, in the midst of a rowan and ash grove.
Three guards kept watch, their gazes occasionally wandering to the center of the site. The Mackintosh and his interrogator held everyone’s rapt attention.
The man on Collin’s right settled his back against a tree, as he watched the proceedings.
John MacGregor was furious with The Mackintosh, wildly gesturing, cursing, and raging. Sturdy men held Garth, on each side.
Collin slowly lifted the bow and arrow, sighting along the shaft and drew the string. He released the arrow and watched, as it lodged into the ear of the guard on the right, nearest him. He dropped straight down, appearing to sit against the tree.
A hair off to the left on that one. Good shot, though. He nocked another arrow, lowered the weapon, and
studied the other two guards. One man rolled his shoulders and knelt beside an ash tree.
Collin raised the bow, drew the string back to capacity. The spiked bodkin head of the arrow pierced the kneeling guard’s spine at the base of his skull. He fell forward, quietly.
That’s a better shot. I could come to like this a great deal. No heavy sweatin’, blood splatters, busted knuckles. He nocked another arrow and took out the third guard, without a sound.
Collin waited five minutes, gauging the arena, to see if anyone noticed the guards down. No one seemed interested. All eyes focused on the battle of the lairds.
“Ye slew my wife’s son, ye bastad!” MacGregor spit in Garth’s face.
“He was rude. I tried to warn ’im off. He was too stupid to heed his better. He died, as a result of his own lack o’ education, at his mam’s knee.”
MacGregor reared back and loosed a hammy fist into Garth’s face.
Garth shook it off and sucked on his bleeding lip. His gaze flicked over to Collin, moving as deadly quiet as a leopard, through the thicket towards them.
MacGregor strutted through the clearing, hands on his hips. “Ye’ll cede yer position as Lord o’ The Chattan and back me fer it.”
“I’ve told ye, nay. Ye’re not listenin’, John.” Garth braced for the next blow, keeping his weight on his feet. The men holding his arms eased their hold, ever so slightly.
MacGregor flung himself at Garth, fists flying. Garth launched his feet into MacGregor, making contact with his crotch and chest. The men, on either side of him, tumbled towards each other. Garth landed on top of them both.
Collin nocked an arrow and loosed it into the man furthest from Mackintosh. He pulled another from the quiver, ripped off a row of fletching, with his teeth, nocked it, and killed a man who glanced at him. The arrow protruded from the man’s forehead as he fell backward.
MacGregor rose to his feet and whirled, eyes searching the woods. “Andrews? Innes?” He listened for a reply he didn’t hear, and drew a pistol, from his belt.
The men, in charge of Garth, scrambled to their feet and attempted to get their hands back on him, too late.
Garth lunged for MacGregor’s back and slung his thick arm around the man’s neck. His pistol dropped to the ground as he grabbed Garth’s arm to pry it away.
“Stand back, all o’ ye or I’ll kill ’im now.” The Mackintosh finally held the upper hand.
MacGregor tried to get his feet underneath himself, but Garth snatched him round, to keep the older man’s weight hanging from his chin, caught in a death grip.
“Collin!” Garth yelled and swung MacGregor, stumbling, round again.
Collin loosed another arrow at one of Garth’s captors, who reached for a pistol. The man fell to the side and rolled forward, driving the arrow deeper into his chest. Collin trotted into the clearing. “Well, I see wha’ had ye so tied up ye couldn’t get home. Ye picked up a wee bit o’ entertainment along the way, eh?”
Garth stood MacGregor on his feet and disarmed him. He collected the weapons, in a pile. He apologized to Collin. “I’m sorry I had to put ye out to come find me.”
“Oh, well, wasn’t doing much anyway. The ladies are all achatter, like they get, ye ken. Yer father-in-law offered to accompany me, but I was concerned it may not be to his likin’, once the action picked up. I fear he would’ve attempted to negotiate, havin’ no idea how stubborn ye Scots can be.” Collin motioned to several others to unload their weapons, watching carefully that all sheaths and belts emptied and brogues checked for sghian dubhs.
The Mackintosh wiped his sleeve across his bloody mouth, one eye black and swollen. “We’ll tie him well.” He indicated MacGregor and turned to address his former taxman. “John, there’s been enough killin’. What say ye to a compromise? I’ll not kill ye today, but if my eyes ever fall on yer ugly countenance again, I reserve the right to change my mind. Ye go back to yer bride and hightail it down to yer fine friend, The Campbell, and let ’im know yer mutiny didn’t work out.”
The MacGregor slowly made his feet, shaky. He dabbed at his busted mouth with a kertch and growled his answer. “I’ll see ye in hell, Mackintosh!”
Garth leaned in close over the older man. “I think not, John.” He grasped his shoulders, turned him, and placed a brogue on MacGregor’s backside and pushed.
MacGregor fell, face first, in the dirt. Garth propped his foot on the former taxman’s neck and used his dirk to cut a piece of rope from a fetter that bound him, earlier in the morning. He lashed MacGregor’s wrists together, behind his back and hauled him up to sit, with the ends.
MacGregor moaned and shook his grisly, grey mien.
“Now, we’re done ye and me. If I never encounter ye or yer get again, tha’s very well. If ye see me, cut a wide course round me, John. I’ll not be so lenient a second time.” Garth turned away to find Collin securing another man in the same fashion.
Collin straightened. “Well, sir, it looks fine to me. Shall we hie to Inverness?”
Garth glanced around the clearing. “Collin, the dead bodies will draw wild animals.”
“Aye, it’s part of the beauty of God’s plan.” Collin nodded.
MacGregor suddenly realized the situation he faced and begged for mercy. “Fer gawd’s sake, Mackintosh, don’t leave us here, without even a weapon, to defend ourselves!”
“What do ye think, Collin?” Mackintosh frowned.
“We’ll cut the horses loose but, fer them,” Collin nodded toward the two men left alive. “I think they could use the time, to contemplate their wicked ways, and repent, don’t ye?”
“I do at that, my friend. I’ll tend the horses. Did ye see Coot when ye came in?”
“Aye, he waited off the road, smelt me and Jack comin’, and greeted us. It’s how we found ye.” Collin gathered weapons in a dead man’s cloak, wrapping the bundle and strapped it with Innes’ belt.
“Do ye ken Milligan there?” Garth asked; his back to Collin, as he untied the horses’ reins.
Collin rolled the dead man over and checked his features. “Nay, never seen ’im before. Should I?”
Garth shook his head. “Met ’im in a public house, said ye sent ’im and Andrews over there,” Garth swung a hand towards a man with an arrow protruding from his throat, “to guard my back.”
Collin sighed and glanced at MacGregor. “Ye’re a sneaky bastad, MacGregor. Ye deserve whatever heaven sends ye. I understand ravens develop a taste fer eyeballs, after they’ve cleaned the dead.”
John MacGregor’s face dissolved in tears. He hung his large grey head and wept.
Chapter 40
Garth and Collin rode, with all their might, in the direction of Inverness, arriving in just under two hours. As they rounded the stable, a groom rushed out to greet them and tend their horses.
“I’ll see ye at supper?” Garth headed for the back kitchen door.
“Aye, we’ll be there tonight. Send fer me, if yer father’s a bit too much to handle.” With a chuckle, Collin headed for the cottage he and Ceidra shared with their two sons.
Garth opened the door and found Millie, with a lovely, short busty lady, intent on whatever smelled like heaven, in the pot before them. He entered and made tracks for his chatelaine.
“What’s this then?” He spoke over Millie’s shoulder.
She spun, at the sound of his voice. He grinned.
“Wha? Master!”
He glanced at the visitor and offered his hand, took hers, bent low and kissed it. “Garth Mackintosh, at yer service, ma’am. Ye must be Kay.”
She chuckled. “Aye, that’s who I am. And you must be the father of my grandchildren, since they all favor you.”
“I am at that, madam.”
Millie shooed him away from the stove. “Ye need a bath, in a hurry. Oh, heavens, look at yer face! Ye’re bound to be starved. Get yerself up to yer quarters and I’ll send water up and salve fer the cuts on yer face. Milady and her papa are visitin’ there. Granny put her to bed
until the bairns come.”
Garth’s face fell. “Is she ill?” He made tracks across the kitchen, to the back stairs.
Millie’s voice grew louder, following him. “Nay, she’s well, just puffy around her legs and ye ken what a worrier Granny can be. She wants her on her back ’til it’s time fer the birthin’ chair.” She turned back to Kay. “He’s a mess that one, comin’ in all bruised and beat up. No pub brawl that. He’s runnin’ fer his life all night.”
Kay’s frown deepened. “Pray, tell me why, Millie.”
“Well, there’s the devil in the form of a schemin’ woman, who married milord’s taxman….” She proceeded to inform Kay on their narrow escape, from the castle, the day before.
****
Garth heard laughter in his chamber, as he opened the door. Amalie, propped on pillows, looked like an angel. A tall, spare red-haired man sat in the bedside chair. He rose, when Garth entered the room.
“Oh!” Amalie covered her mouth. “My love, you look…awful. Your face is busted and bruised.”
He nodded, unbuttoning his leine. “That it is, my heart. I’ll bathe and join the two of ye.” He extended his hand to the rabbi. “It’s an honor to meet ye, sir, at long last.”
Rabbi took Garth’s hand and gripped it tightly. “You’ve a tale to share, son. We’ve been anxious for you.” He glanced back at his daughter. “Some of us to distraction.”
“Well, ye ken how it is, ye go fer months, and nothin’ excitin’ happens. Then all of sudden the blocks start tumblin’ down and someone must dash about, tryin’ to right wrongs and put all in order again.” He heard the bath chamber door open to the pages and stepped back. “I’ll return, when I’m more presentable and less aromatic.” He left them for the bath, twice the size of the one at the castle.
Amalie wiped her wet face, her voice pensive. “Papa, remember what you told me, years ago, about knowing, in my heart when I met the man Adonai set apart, for me alone?”
