by Lily Baldwin
“Forgive me, Abbot,” Joanie said, “but I still do not understand why the Stone warmed in my presence, and how it led us to Saint Gabriel. How did we find it?”
The abbot smiled. “I am but a simple man, Joanie. There is little I can reveal that ye do not already know. But what I can tell ye is that I don’t believe ye found the Stone.”
Her brows pinched together. “But you said this was, indeed, the true stone.”
“What I mean to say is that I believe the Stone found ye. Ye see, Joanie, the Stone of Destiny is as old as time itself.” The abbot placed his hand reverently on the purple rock. “It holds the breath of the Holy Spirit. The power it contains cannot be understood by any of us.”
“Why then do you think it chose us?” she asked.
“The stone remained hidden in that grave for more than five years. People passed it again and again, but its pleas fell on deaf hearts — hearts without the capacity to truly hear.” The abbot turned. “Then ye three came along.”
Alec rubbed the back of his neck. “But I held that shard for months and saw nothing.”
The abbot raised a brow at Alec. “And in all that time, ye maintained walls around your heart and mind. Now, if I had to venture a guess, I don’t believe Joanie’s presence truly made the stone warm, I think she warmed yer heart, allowing ye to let down yer shields.”
“Still, how did the Stone know that Joanie and Matthew were connected.”
“So many questions, but Alec, where is yer faith? Did ye ever think that maybe, it was just destiny?”
Alec paused, then wrapped his arm around Joanie’s waist and clasped Matthew close. “That I can believe.”
The abbot swept the fabric back in place. “The Stone’s journey is not yet done, for it cannot stay here. It must be hidden away again.” Then he turned back and looked at Alec. “Ye too must be hidden away. Yer a wanted man now. So, ye ken what that means.”
Alec smiled. “We journey to Colonsay to join my outlaw brothers.”
~ * ~
Spring’s full warmth caressed Joanie’s face as she looked up at the crisp blue sky crowded with gulls soaring high. She watched as one broke away, diving headlong into the water, emerging a second later, victorious with a small fish in its beak.
Mathew stirred. She looked down where he slept, his head rested in her lap.
“It does my old heart good to see that lad so happy,” Margaret said from where she sat at the bow. “He needed a family of his own.”
Alec smiled as he adjusted the sail. “His family is about to grow significantly.” Then he pointed toward a wide, crescent shaped shore. “Colonsay!”
Alec’s father first hailed from Colonsay before he journeyed to the once bustling city of Berwick to work the docks. When his brother, Jack, had to go on the run, escaping the wrath of King Edward with English lady, Bella Ravensworth, and her father at his side, he chose to hideaway at Colonsay, knowing the MacVies would always be welcome.
Alec knew in his heart that Jack had made it, outrunning Edward’s men. His youngest brother, Ian, followed after to Colonsay, escorting their sister, Rose, and Jack’s lassies — wee orphans Jack had adopted after their parents were slaughtered during the massacre. Whether Quinn or Rory had made it to Colonsay, he did not know, but that would soon change.
The keel of their small boat carved into the golden sand. Alec leapt into the crashing waves and pulled the boat free from the consuming force of the sea. Then he reached up and aided first Matthew, then Margaret, and finally, Joanie down to the shore, although he held Joanie close and breathed in the salty scent of her hair before he set her toes on the soft sand.
He scanned the shore. There was a long pier with two moorings that jutted out into the waves. Small sailboats hugged the pier, rhythmically bumping into the wood with every wave that lapped toward shore. A shift in the direction of the wind, sparked a feeling in his heart.
“Wait for me here,” he said, to Joanie. Then he set out down the curved shore.
Beyond a tall jetty of rocks, he spotted a woman, tall and slim, with wild red curls that tumbled to her waist. His sister, Rose, stood with a shawl loosely draped about her shoulders as she gazed out at the choppy waves.
When Rose was a little girl, she dreamt that love would come to her from the sea, and she used to stand for hours at the docks, watching, waiting.
“Just as I always remember ye, staring out to sea.”
Rose gasped when she turned and locked eyes with Alec. Instantly, she started toward him, but then she froze. “Ye’re nothing like how I remembered ye.”
She walked up to him tentatively, curiously studying his face. When he smiled, she jumped a little, and her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Alec MacVie, what has come over ye?”
Still smiling, he shrugged. “I’m happy.”
Her brow’s pinched together. “Yer happy?”
He laughed and seized her by the waist, lifting her and swirling her about. “Aye, my dear, big sister, I’m happy.”
Rose wrapped her arms around his neck. When she pulled away, her blue eyes shone bright, brimming with tears.
She swiped the few drops that had escaped. “Well, all right, then, Alec, don’t make me wait any longer. I would like to thank the woman who has made my little brother so very happy.”
Alec took Rose by the hand and led her back around to the sandy beach and introduced Rose to his new family.
Rose gently cupped Joanie’s cheeks, her lips pressed in a thin line, forcing back her tears. “Oh, aye, ye and Alec are one and the same. I can tell.” Then she turned back to Alec. “Wait until the lads see ye.”
“Where have they built their homes?” Alec asked.
“Just beyond that ridge,” Rose said.
The shore rose up from the grabbing waves. Then golden sand gave way to tall sea grass, which hugged the base of some short cliffs.
Alec turned to Matthew. “Do ye want to run ahead and announce our arrival?”
Matthew smiled and nodded. “How will I know them?”
“Ye’ll know. MacVie men are hard to miss.”
Matthew darted across the sea grass and scrambled up the cliffs.
“Don’t think for a moment that I can make it up those cliffs,” Margaret said.
Rose laughed. “Not to worry. There’s some stairs carved into the stone, over on the left side.”
Joanie took Margaret’s hand and helped her into the tall grasses while Alec encircled Joanie’s waist with his arm.
“And there they are,” Rose said, pointing.
A large, powerful looking man with broad shoulders and curly black hair appeared. Even from the distance, Joanie could appreciate his raw masculinity with his chiseled jaw and deep-set eyes. On his arm was a woman with long sable brown hair and beautiful olive skin.
“That is Jack, the eldest of my brothers with his Bella on his arm,” Alec said.
Then another couple appeared. The man had long wavy black hair. He was tall and broad, although less so than Jack but still brawnier than Alec and ruggedly handsome. Joanie could see that there were, indeed, common traits enjoyed by the MacVie men. Ebony hair, full lips, deep-set eyes. She guessed their eyes were every bit as dark as Alec’s. Joanie had to tear her gaze away from the man to consider the woman at his side. Like Bella, she had rich olive skin, but her hair was every bit as black as the men’s.
“That is Quinn. He was born just after Jack. As for the lovely woman on his arm, I have no idea who she is,” Alec said.
Rose smiled. “She is Catarina, Bella’s sister.”
“Bella’s sister?” Alec exclaimed. “That’s a story I can’t wait to hear. Och, there’s Rory!”
Joanie gasped as she watched Alec’s younger brother jump the height of two men from the ridge of the cliff to the sand below.
“Aye, that’s Rory, all right, the second most reckless person ye are likely to meet,” Rose said. “And here comes his Alex, the most reckless of all.”
Joanie gasped as a wo
man with long blond hair, not unlike Diana’s, jumped the same height, landing in Rory’s arms. Then Rory put her on her feet, and they both started racing toward them.
Rose laughed. “They just wanted to be the first to greet ye.”
But no sooner did Rory start his sprint, then the other MacVie men joined the race. But all three stopped short when they drew close enough to see into Alec’s eyes. Joanie watched as all three brothers stared, expressions of curious wonderment etched on their handsome faces. Then, in two strides, Jack closed the distance between them and pulled Alec into a fierce hug. Joanie’s heart flooded with warmth when Alec returned Jack’s hug with the same force. Then in a flash of black hair, Quinn and Rory joined the embrace in a tangle of strong arms and the same fierce affection.
“Wait for me,” a deep baritone voice shouted.
Joanie whirled around and saw a giant fireball disguised as a man hurtling toward them with Matthew bouncing impossibly high up on his massive shoulders. Ian was exactly as Helena had described, right down to the long, flaming red hair. He smiled at Joanie when he passed by, his blue eyes as bright as the summer sky and his face so warm and kind that she felt like she was looking at the sun — but a gentle, steadfast sun that would never go away and leave someone in the dark.
“Hold tight, my wee man,” he said to Matthew. Then he stretched his arms wide. “Here I come,” Ian bellowed to his brothers.
“Oh, go on then,” Rose laughed and joined her brothers with arms spread wide.
~ * ~
Later that evening, Alec stood on the cliffs with Joanie at his side. The last sliver of sunlight shimmered on the horizon, casting jewel colored light across the sky and waves.
“I never could have imagined a place as beautiful as Colonsay or a family as big and full of love. I only wish…” her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted beyond the shore to the jetty where Rose stood, gazing out at sea. “I know she is quick to laugh, and her smile never falters, but…” She turned and looked up at Alec. “Her heart is so very sad, isn’t it?”
A soft smiled curved Alec’s lips. “Aye, she is, but fear not.” A twinkle glinted in his eye, like a lone star in the night sky. “One day, her true love will wash up on shore.”
Joanie smiled and threw her arms around his neck. “I believe you, and I love you.” Then she looked into his seer’s eyes. “Thank you for saving my life.”
He crushed her against him and kissed her just as the sun dipped from sight and twilight encircled them in soft hues of gray and violet. Then he pulled away slightly and whispered. “Thank ye for saving mine.”
Rose
A Scottish Outlaw
By
Lily Baldwin
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, locations and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Any actual locations mentioned in this book are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
All rights are retained by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction, sharing, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Copyright 2016 by Lily Baldwin
www.duncurra.com
Cover Design: Cover Designer
ISBN-10:1-942623-39-9
ISBN-13:978-1-942623-39-7
Produced in the USA
Dedication
To my readers, with love.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my readers who have journeyed with me on this wonderful Highland ride. Thank you to my womenfolk at Duncurra: Susan, Meghan, Jennifer, and a special thank you to my dearest Kathryn for your beautiful insights into Rose’s heart. A giant thank you to my mama for your eagle eyes and for being the greatest mama, editor, and friend in the whole world! Thank you to my husband and daughter for your love and tireless support. You both mean everything to me!
Prologue
Colonsay, Scotland 1303
Rose MacVie stood on her favorite rock, gazing at the moon, which hovered above the twilight-blue sea. It cast a rippling white reflection, stretching like an arm across the water.
The moon reached for Rose.
She felt the pull within her, the light straining to touch her lonely, restless heart—for the moon was a kindred spirit. It, too, knew what it meant to be alone. Fire blazed inside the heavenly body that could never be fully released. It hung in the night sky, cool and somber, with only the softest light able to escape the confines of its celestial skin.
Like the moon, Rose could never escape her fate. Fire forever burned inside her. Some days it blazed red-hot, cruelly licking the open wounds in her heart—three deep, cavernous, and bloody gashes that could never heal, not in a thousand years, not in this world or the next.
“Ye’ve been out here for a long time.”
Rose whirled around. Ian, her youngest brother, stood behind her, a gentle smile curving his lips.
“I’ve been waiting for ye on the beach for hours now,” he said, his voice kind. He moved toward her tentatively as if she were an animal he did not wish to spook. “I have something for ye.”
Rose turned back to face the water and drew a deep breath, fighting to suppress the pit of emptiness that threatened to consume her from the inside out. She had to be strong. Ian needed her. Once more, swallowing her own pain, she silently bid goodnight to the moon and the sea.
They would be there for her again as sure as her need for them would return.
Joining Ian, they walked the shore together in silence for several minutes. At length, he said, “Ye haven’t been at supper for a few nights.” His tone held a casualness she knew he did not feel.
Despite how he tried, Ian could not hide his concern for her, none of her brothers could. But they did not worry alone. Having felt listless for months and months, she fretted over her own wellbeing. But what her brothers didn’t know was how lonely their nightly suppers made her feel.
Jack, Quinn, and Rory were all happily married now with children of their own. And just last week, Alec and Joanie announced they were going to have a baby. In her heart, Rose could not have been happier for them. Alec and Joanie were no strangers to suffering. They had to walk through hell and back to find the happiness that now shaped their lives. But somehow the fullness of their love made the emptiness of her own arms that much clearer.
Rose scowled—not at Ian or Alec or any of her brothers. The person she scorned was herself. Why must she despair? Where had her spirit gone?
She knew the answer.
Despite how happy she was for her siblings, she could not help but feel peripheral to their life on the island. Her family’s lives continued to evolve while hers remained the same—no different now than after that tragic day eight years ago when her own family had been taken from her.
Once upon a time, the MacVies had lived ordinary lives as fishermen and dockhands within the heart of Berwick, Scotland’s busiest and most prosperous port. But the hammer of Longshanks—the English King—pummeled the city to nothing. When the dust settled, thousands of innocents had been slaughtered, including her husband and their three precious daughters.
In the beginning, there had been only anguish, blinding pain that stole her breath, her mind, her soul, even her will to live. She never would have made it
through those dark days following the massacre if her brothers hadn’t needed her.
Years later, the grief still flowed through her. It lived in her blood, in the food she tasted, and in the flowers she smelled. It was ubiquitous as the stars at night or the sea that stretched for all eternity. But she had made peace with her pain. She did not rail against it anymore, nor did she try to ignore it. It was a part of her, no different than her hands or her feet or the heart that beat in her chest.
But something darker than grief had begun to move within her, something insidious and consuming—an emptiness that left her always tired and so very lonely. It mocked her and judged her, making her feel unworthy of happiness.
She dug in her heels, stopping in her tracks.
She pressed her hand over her mouth, silencing the sob that ached to be freed. She couldn’t draw breath as, once more, her mind’s eye revealed the monotony of her own life stretching out before her, empty and unchanging, year after year dragging to a close without the warmth of a man lying beside her or her children to care for or grandchildren to bounce on her knee.
Brows drawn, Ian reached for her. “What is it?” he asked.
Tears stung her eyes. She stepped free from his embrace. “I’m sorry, Ian. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Aye, ye do,” he said, his tone gentle but insistent. “Ye just don’t want to say it, because ye hate to complain. But I’m giving ye permission. Right now, Rose, say what ye feel.”
She clenched her fists, her heart unraveling beyond the confines of her usual control. “I just want more for myself.” She opened her hands, palms up. “They’re so empty when once they were so very full.” She dropped her hands to her side. “I may have many years left to my life. I do not want to spend them steeped in naught but regret.”
Once again, Ian pulled her close. “Ye ken ye’re not truly alone. Ye will always have yer family.”
