‘So I smiled down at ye and told ye I loved ye and ye smiled up at me. And I left.’ Tears thickened her voice and rolled down her face.
The one image of his mother that had remained with him all his life appeared in his mind clear and sharp, but as he looked closely now, he saw the glitter of unshed tears in her blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her pain. He’d only seen her smile.
Adair knew what had happened to him after she’d left, but he didn’t know what had happened to her. He placed his palm over the top of her hand. ‘Why did you go back?’
‘I had to.’ She spoke without hesitation, as if she really had no choice. ‘I’d already caused my family enough shame, and having heard tales of murder and imprisonment for those who’d thwarted Alexander Stewart’s wishes, I feared they would be punished for my disappearance. I also had to return the horse I’d taken. But I never did.’ She exhaled and her fragile shoulders lost some of their strength.
‘Rest now. You can finish your—’
‘Nae.’ She cut him off. ‘I’ll finish the telling now,’ she said firmly. ‘I rode back the way we’d come, hard and fast, before the temptation to turn back and get ye proved stronger than my will. I rode for days, scared of what would happen when I returned, frightened of what might happen if I didn’t. I was close and started to recognise clusters of trees and land formations I’d noticed on our journey south, when the sky suddenly turned black and the wind swept up, trying to tear me from my saddle.
‘The heavens opened and the rain fell in torrents the likes I’d never seen before. I was wet through but determined to keep going. Another foolish choice made by a foolish lass.’ Disappointment deepened her tone.
‘A bolt of lightning lit up the sky and touched the ground close to where I was riding and terrified the horse. The poor beast shrieked and reared and as desperately as I tried to hold on, I was tossed from the saddle and flew backwards through the air. The last thing I remember was my back colliding with something hard and a loud crack as my head hit something solid.’
‘I don’t know how long I lay there before I woke, but once I did, a day and a night passed.’ She stopped and stared at the centre of his chest, but lost in her memory, he doubted she saw him in that moment. ‘I was so cold, the likes I’ve never suffered before. But only my upper body and arms. I couldn’t seem to feel my legs. Couldn’t move them. Most frustrating when I had somewhere to be.’
Adair frowned at the small smile she gave while talking about such a frightening and life-changing matter. And then he realised she was making light of something that hurt her too deeply to confront the shattering truth in a serious way. Just as he did. A lump born of understanding filled his throat.
Her smile disappeared and tears once again filled her eyes. ‘Then Rory found me. He’d lost his wife and son in a fire and had an empty home. He was like an older brother to me and gave me a good life. Once I realised I was going to keep living.’ She stared ahead unblinking. ‘At first I wanted to die.’ Moments later her shoulders straightened and her eyes focused on him. ‘Even still, I didn’t want to see anyone. Rory cared for me and I cooked for him.’ Her delicate chin trembled. ‘And now … now he is gone.’
Adair gently wrapped his arms about her fragile, shaking shoulders as she wept. This woman was his mother. She hadn’t abandoned him. She’d been protecting him. This one small woman had been through so much and had suffered at every turn. Adair’s arms tightened about her, as his heart burned at the thought of everything she’d done for him.
He held her until she sobbed her last, clinging to his shirt with both hands. He listened to her quiet sniffles and absorbed the sudden deep breaths that shuddered through her as she released her sorrows and renewed her strength over and over.
He’d come to the Highlands to discover his origins, and though their lives had followed different paths, Adair had found both his father and his mother. While he was disappointed in the man his sire turned out to be, his mother was a woman he admired and vowed to protect for the rest of her life.
She pulled away from his chest, and keeping her face lowered, wiped her eyes with the pads of her fingers. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean …’
Adair lifted her chin and looked into her glittering blue eyes. ‘There is naught to forgive.’ His voice was firm, his tone true. ‘Thank you for all you’ve sacrificed for me, your son. I hope in time to repay you.’ He dropped his hand over hers. ‘The people you left me with are of the best kind and I will be returning to the Elliots.’ He tightened his grip on hers then released her. ‘In a day or two I leave for Braemar and then will journey back to the Borders. I would like to take you with me, to stay with me there, if you care to come.’
He forced himself to draw regular breaths as he waited for her reply. Perhaps he should have given her more time. He was just about to tell her to let him know the next day when his mother blinked up at him, with a fresh bout of tears pooling in her blue eyes and a smile slowly lifting her lips. ‘I would like nothing more than to go wherever ye go, Adair.’
Hearing his name spoken by his mother was something he’d never imagined hearing again. He exhaled long and quiet. ‘Good. Rest and I will begin preparations for our journey.’ He cleared his throat and standing, turned and walked from the healing room.
Never had he experienced such a mixture of so many emotions at one time. Sorrow, surprise, elation and fear. Never had he been more confused in his life.
Adair entered the sitting room and discovered he wasn’t alone. Two sets of tear-filled eyes, one amber, the other a glistening emerald green, stared at him from one side of the doorway he’d just passed through.
He swallowed. ‘You heard?’
‘Aye,’ they both said as one.
He saw no pity in their gazes, only concern and again his admiration for them both climbed impossibly higher. They’d just laid to rest their dear friend and a man they both loved, yet their worrying was directed at him.
He turned and stopped in front of them. ‘How are you both?’
‘I’m fine,’ Moira said, without thought and with a lift of her chin. Adair knew she wasn’t.
‘Well enough,’ Keila said. ‘We’re sorry for listening.’ Her long lashes briefly dipped to hide her tearful eyes.
‘Don’t be,’ Adair said, wanting to take her in his arms and console her for her loss. He wanted to hold her just to feel her against him. ‘It saves the retelling. I’ll be in the stable seeing to the horses should anyone need me.’ He needed to leave before he did exactly what he wanted. He strode outside into the night.
***
Keila watched Adair walk out of the room and felt him take a part of her she hadn’t known he’d claimed. She peered down into the two full cups she’d been carrying to the healing room when she’d heard Netti tell Adair she was his mother. She’d almost spilled the ale and had stood frozen listening to Janet’s heart-wrenching tale of self-sacrifice and long-suffering. How must he feel knowing what his mother had gone through to protect him?
And he was leaving in a day or two.
The chill emptiness she’d felt when he left the sitting room gaped wider at the thought of him no longer here.
‘Go to him, Keila,’ Moira said quietly beside her. Keila turned and faced her friend. ‘Your meals are ready and in the kitchen. I’ll see to Netti and myself. Go.’
Keila nodded and hurried into the kitchen, where she placed the filled cups on a tray and added their simple meals of bread and cheese. The night’s cool breath feathered over her skin as she headed for the stable. Her steps slowed and she stopped to look at Rory’s cairn in the moon’s shadows beneath the pines near the bend in the river. Rory was gone. His passing wasn’t right and didn’t seem real. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.
She tore her gaze away from the rock-covered mound and walked to the double doors at the far end and found them both open. A single lantern had been lit and placed on top of the barrier, casting a pool of light over the stalls. Demon was inside the first, thoug
h the gate to keep him in stood wide. Mist and Nettle turned to look at her from the third stall, likely hoping she’d brought them a carrot, but soon lost interest when she didn’t move closer. Adair was nowhere to be seen.
The smell of hay and horses grew stronger as she entered the stable and set her tray on the rear of the cart. He had to be here somewhere. She turned and glanced outside into the darkness and the faintly glowing embers in the distance caught her eye and her breath. She stared, heart clenching and again tore her gaze away from the awful reminder of Rory’s death to find Adair watching her from within the middle stall.
‘Are you alright, Keila?’
His deep voice was like a rush of much-needed air. ‘I’m fine … I couldn’t find you.’ She sounded frightened. She took a deep breath and strove for calm. ‘I’ve brought you the meal Moira prepared.’ Better. ‘You need to eat. You’ve not eaten all day.’
‘Have you?’
She turned and lifted the tray from the cart. ‘I’ve brought mine, too. I thought we might eat together. And talk.’ She swallowed. ‘If you want to.’ She neared the second stall, fully aware he watched her every step. ‘’Tis not a grand meal,’ she said, as he opened the stall door for her. She entered.
He stepped in front of her. ‘Why are you really here?’
She stared down at the contents of the tray while he stood close enough for her to smell the scent of man that was his alone. She lifted her head just enough to see his face. Saw the firm line of his masculine jaw and the slight hardness about his mouth. She wanted to feel less empty and less alone. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted him to hold her. Instead, she said, ‘You’ve just found your mother. I want to know if you’re alright.’
A muscle along his jaw tightened. ‘I will be. But what of you?’ He took the tray from her clenched fingers and set it on the upturned pail behind him. Without the laden tray between them he seemed closer, she seemed closer to getting what she wanted. ‘You’ve just lost a man who was like a father to you, yet you’re always seeing to everyone else.’ He sounded concerned. She didn’t want him to be. His hand gently cupped her chin and tilted her head up until her gaze met his. ‘How are you?’
‘I—’ The warmth in Adair’s voice melted her determination not to confront losing Rory yet, if ever. The worry gazing at her from his blue eyes opened her heart to the hurt and pain. Adair’s handsome face blurred as unwanted tears welled and flowed. She heard her initial sob of despair and was stunned that such a wretched sound could come from her. Powerful arms closed about her and drew her into a wall of heat and security and Keila was helpless to stop the stricken sobs that followed.
She cried for the loss of a man who had brightened her days with his mischievous grin. She wept for the man who’d teased her and prodded her cheek to see if she was still alive and would always miss the sound of his voice calling her lass. She sobbed for the man who forgot what he was saying or why he’d come, when he remembered to show up at all. She’d forever mourn the kind and compassionate man she’d believed was married to his Netti, but who had spent more than twenty years caring for a crippled woman who’d fallen from her horse. Her heart broke for the loss of her friend who’d taught her to brew ale, but had never drunk a drop since he’d lost his wife and son in a fire.
She missed Rory.
Gentle lips pressed against her forehead, as fingers slowly traced the curve of one side of her face. Keila blinked opened eyes that felt wet and swollen and discovered she was cradled between Adair’s chest and thighs as he sat with his back leaning against one wall inside the stall.
‘I miss him.’
‘Aye.’
She could stay here curled against him forever. ‘I came to the stable to console you.’
His fingers paused their downward slide beside her ear. ‘And you have. More than you know.’
‘But—’
‘You’ve lost someone, Keila, while I have found someone I never expected to find. I’ll have time to know my mother later. Right now belongs to you.’
Chapter 21
Adair woke with Keila sleeping against his chest and to the feeling they were being watched. Demon’s dark head hung over the barrier, his brown eyes fixed on them sitting on the floor in the middle stall. Two other heads, one brown and one grey, hovered above them and the tray beside him, empty save for a heel of bread Keila refused to eat. She’d eaten everything else he’d fed her and drunk her cup of ale, while she’d shared her memories of Rory with him. Adair only wished he’d had more time with the older man.
The lantern had gone out sometime during the night, but Adair didn’t need it now as early morning light washed into the stable through the open double doors. He looked to where he’d laid the litter he’d fashioned from two slim but sturdy tree limbs and the hide he usually placed beneath Demon’s saddle. The litter was for their journey. For his mother. Two words he never expected to think of with such wonder. The woman he hadn’t expected to find.
‘You can take the cart.’
Quiet words spoken against his chest by the other woman he hadn’t expected to find in the Highlands. The woman who’d cared for him and healed his injured body and captured his heart.
‘My thanks, but you’ll need it for market.’ It was time to finish his preparations. ‘I’ll acquire something more permanent and comfortable for travel when I reach Braemar.’
Adair tucked his feet under him and rocked forward into a standing position. He searched the emerald eyes peering up at him and imagined a look of longing in their depths. He released her legs, ensuring her stance was steady before fully letting her go. He’d been granted his wish to hold the woman he loved once more, but he was returning to the Borders tomorrow and she was staying here in the house that was her haven, her home.
He offered her the tray and lifted his sword from the ground where they’d slept before entering the next stall. He saddled Demon and secured his sword to his mount. ‘I’m heading to Rory’s cottage to see if anything can be salvaged.’ And while there, he’d have a look around. Suspicion coursed through him when he thought of how the fire may have started. His nostrils flared and he turned away before Keila could gauge his expression. He guided his horse out of the stall and mounted. Keila met him near the stable’s entrance.
‘The fires …’ She dipped her chin and looked back up. ‘Leith stopped by the morning you’d gone to check on Rory.’
The morning he’d returned and Keila had asked him to leave. He clenched the reins and fought to hide his remembered hurt, but Demon sensed his struggle and danced beneath him. With a firm stroke along his mount’s neck, he settled his horse and said. ‘What did Leith say?’
‘He told me who had been affected by the three fires we saw the same night we left Mortlach.’ Adair nodded, encouraging her to continue. ‘Graeme Leslie, an elderly widower, and the MacTiers, a young couple expecting their first bairn. None of them spoke to us at market, but they did offer a nod or a smile.’ She swallowed. ‘And the third was the inn’s stable. Euan’s stable.’ Her soft lips turned down with sadness. ‘None were injured, but they all lost something, all because they acknowledged us, acknowledged me in some way.’ She lowered her eyes.
Reaching down, he cupped her chin with his hand. ‘Keila, none of what happened is your fault.’
‘And then Rory’s cottage caught fire. He was always careful. He didn’t like fire and now we know he’d lost his family.’
The fearful look in Keila’s eyes tore strips from his heart. ‘Don’t be afraid, Keila.’ Leaning low, he kissed her lips. He couldn’t stop himself. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’ He looked into her green eyes, hoping she saw the promise to keep her safe in his. ‘Will you see to my mother until I return?’
‘Of course.’ The fear in her gaze lessened.
He released her chin. ‘I’ll not be long.’
They rode at full gallop to the cottage. Adair believed he’d convinced his sire that he would go ahead with his plan to wed Keila, there
by returning the ownership of Drummin House back to the earl. Adair’s only stipulation had been that Leith and his men were to have nothing more to do with Keila or her protection. Leith and his caterans were to stay away from her. Adair didn’t know Leith well, but he didn’t trust the man and he liked him even less.
Adair’s sire may have given his word, but could fail to carry his promise through. After meeting the earl, and now having heard about his ill treatment of Dair’s mother, as well as others who’d fallen victim to his cruel ways, the Earl of Buchan’s word was worthless. He’d been a fool to ever think otherwise.
A fine mist hovered about the glen and the scent of smoke reached him a moment before what was left of the cottage came into view. Little remained of the wattle and daub croft and thin plumes of grey rose up from the ashes and faded to nothing. Adair ground his teeth, knowing that Rory was gone too, never to be seen again.
He dismounted and walked around the perimeter of the smouldering remains, searching for anything that looked wrong or out of place. A variety of long and short iron implements and tools sat near a cast-iron pot in the ash-filled fire pit in the centre of the cottage, as if waiting for Netti, as if waiting for his mother, or for Rory to return and use them or set the pot to boil. Rory couldn’t and his mother never would.
Adair crouched down and plucked a curved piece of iron that had likely been part of a timber pail Rory used to fetch water. He stared across the gentle wavering grasses to the river and felt the ground beneath him rumble with the familiar pounding of hooves. He dropped the piece of iron, stood and turned, reaching for the hilt of his sword.
It wasn’t there. He glanced to where Demon stood on the far side of the ashes, head high and ears pinned back, the hilt of Adair’s sword just visible on the opposite side. He looked down to where he carried his dirk at his waist and remembered he’d given the weapon to Wallis so the lad could defend himself.
The Rogue Page 24
