Keigan beamed like the sun and continued leading the horses to the spring.
Remembering the interrupted conversation, she motioned at the surrounding wood. “Why did ye ask how long we had been here? What did I not hear while in Inbhir Ùige?”
He stared at her entirely too long before answering. “Nithdane is no more. Neither keep nor clan.”
“Ye lie.” His words pushed her back a step, but his eyes reflected nothing but the truth.
“Red Caunich destroyed the keep and murdered most in the clan. I was told he did so to clear the land of those who had shamed him.” His expression hardened as his chin lifted. “Yer sister had hoped to gain release from the betrothal when he found her no longer a virgin. Even prepared herself to spend the rest of her life in a nunnery as punishment. But if she hadna been banished, he wouldha killed her. Both her and the unborn child. So said the townsfolk of Inbhir Theòrsa.”
She huffed out a bitter snort. “So, my father actually saved the lives of the daughters he never had a use for. I’d wager he’s spinning in Hell about that.”
“Why did he banish ye with her?”
“Because I dared to defend her when no one else would.” Brenna moved to the edge of the clearing and stared off into the woods in the direction the boys had gone with those monstrous beasts. She relaxed as the sounds of splashing and Keigan’s endless chatter reached her. The day’s revelations had threatened to knock her to her knees. They had revisited the past as much as she could stand. “If ye hurt him by coming here, I willna rest until I have killed ye.” She turned and fixed Magnus with a look he would do well to heed. “Dinna underestimate me just because I am a woman.”
“I have no intention of hurting him.” A mournful note shadowed the rich, deep voice of the man she had despised for what felt like forever. “I also have no intention of hurting ye.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He strolled over to the hut, examining its construction with a critical eye. “If Keigan decides to be my son and returns with me to Tor Ruadh, I would have ye know that ye are welcome to come with us.”
“My, my are ye not a self-assured bastard.” How dare he think he could sweep in here with his warhorses and manly ways to win the favor of her nephew with no problem. Keigan might be entranced for a little while, but the boy loved her and enjoyed their life here in the woods. Keigan understood they were safe here. The fewer the people, the less chance of betrayal and pain. “Ye truly think ye can win him away from me so easily?”
“It is not my intent to ‘win him away.’” One hand still resting on the side of the structure, he turned and frowned at her. “If he fosters an attachment to me, that willna change his love for ye. Ye’re nay just an Auntie. Ye’re the only mother he has ever known. He needs ye in his life more than ye will ever know.” His scowl deepened. “I would never attempt to take that from him.”
The man had all the right words. Said the things he thought she needed to hear. No wonder her trusting sister had so easily fallen under his spell. “Our home is too small for any other than us.” She motioned toward the pile of sticks and branches she and Keigan had gathered during their walks. “Ye’re welcome to sleep here in the clearing. If the night gets brisk, ye can build a fire with that wood.”
“Thank ye. That is most generous.”
It wasn’t, but she didn’t care. There was room enough inside, and she felt sure he could tell that. He might be a callous womanizer, but she had decided he was far from stupid. The rising wind held the smell of rain to it. Magnus and Evander would soon be soaked, but that was their problem, not hers.
A horse’s loud snort announced the return of the lads. Magnus directed the boys to the left of the dwelling. “Tie them off over there. I dinna see any grasses or plants that’ll cause them harm should they eat them, and those trees should give them safe enough shelter from the weather.”
“Ye know about plants?” Keigan asked. He looked at Brenna with pride. “My auntie knows everything about plants and how to make folk better with them.”
“Does she now?” Magnus looked suitably impressed, irritating Brenna even more. “Perhaps yer auntie would be kind enough to teach me what she knows,” he added.
“It would take a long time,” the boy warned. “She knows everything.”
“Keigan—”
Thunder interrupted, rumbling long and low. The wind stirred the trees, growing stronger with every gust.
“Fixin’ to storm,” Keigan announced. He waved Evander and Magnus toward the door of the hut. “Best get inside. We got some fish left over from breakfast if’n ye’re hungry. Auntie made some honey water, too. We found a hive and didna get stung a single time ’cause Auntie blew smoke on them. It made them all sleepy.”
Unfortunately, Keigan had inherited a most exhausting trait from his mother. The boy was never at a loss for words with anyone.
“We’ll be fine out here,” Magnus said with a pointed look in Brenna’s direction. Evander opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut and cast a disgruntled look up at the sky. Without a word, he shrugged a fold of his kilt up over his head and peered out from it.
“But ye’ll get soaked as waterweed,” Keigan argued, holding open the door. “Tell’m, Auntie.”
As if to make the boy’s case, it thundered again, and large droplets of rain plopped across the ground, warning of the deluge to come.
“Ye can come inside until the rain stops, aye?” Brenna pointed at the door, refusing to look Magnus in the eyes. He would surely think her easy to manipulate if this kept up. But she knew in her heart if she behaved like a quarrelsome banshee in front of Keigan, she would lose him to the man for certain. This was a dangerous game that had to be played with care. “I am certain ’tis just a passing storm.”
“I’m sure it is,” Magnus said. “We shall be back outside in no time.”
She could tell the fool was doing his best not to smile. He had better not, or she’d slip enough agrimony into his honey water to make him piss himself to death. Good for staunching wounds and making them clot, the herb also worked well at flushing a body’s waters.
While the confines of the small dwelling were tight, at least they were dry as the sky held true to its promise and released a driving rain. She covered the lone window with a shutter she had made from a broken tabletop and lit the precious lantern one of the townsmen had given her after she had set his son’s broken arm.
“Did the two of ye build this?” Evander asked, looking upward where they had lashed the branches together as the bones for the structure, creating a cone that coaxed the smoke from the center fire upward.
“Aye, we did. Auntie even climbed a tree and dangled down by her knees to tie the rope around the beams before we layered the mud and thatch on the roof,” Keigan said with pride. He slapped his knee and laughed. “Ye shouldha seen her wearing them trews!”
Both Evander and Magnus turned and looked at her as though she had just sprouted horns.
“Keigan, I thought ye were going to share the fish and bread?” Brenna stirred the fire and hung a small pot across the edge of the coals. She had to get the child side-tracked before he divulged any more indelicate secrets.
“Evander,” Magnus pointed at the door. “Run fetch the food from Mistress Wicklow before it’s ruined.” He gave Brenna an apologetic bob of his head. “I shouldha had him bring the goods inside before now. Forgive me.” His gaze slid to Keigan. “But it slipped my mind,” he added with a thoughtful quietness that made her heart hurt.
Before she could reply, Evander blew back inside with his arms overloaded with bundles.
As Keigan rushed to join the lad at the small table in front of the window, Brenna stepped back out of their way and found herself shoulder to shoulder with Magnus. Well, they would have been shoulder to shoulder if she were quite a bit taller. As it was, even being a tall woman, the top of her head barely reached his chin.
“Thank ye for th
is, Brenna,” he said softly for her ears alone. “I know I dinna deserve it, but I am forever indebted to yer kindness. Ye have no idea how much yer understanding means to me.”
“Dinna thank me,” she replied in a curt whisper. Frustration churned through her, made even worse by the feeling she had betrayed the need for vengeance she had nurtured all these years. His heartfelt whisper touched her more than she cared to admit, and she hated herself for it. “This was my sister’s dying wish. For the child to know ye. No more. No less.”
“Be that as it may,” Magnus countered, “I shall owe ye the rest of my days. Whatever ye may need—all ye must do is ask it of me, ye ken?”
Chapter Three
She had always thought Keigan favored his mother. Little did she know how wrong she had been. The child’s likeness was a reflection of his father. Disturbingly so. Same eyes. The slant of their smiles displaying the same dimple planted in their right cheek. With their heads bent close over the game they had scratched out on the dirt floor, barely a shade’s difference could be seen between their hair.
“I have ye now,” Evander crowed as he slid a rock toward another pile of pebbles within the circle.
“Nay!” Magnus and Keigan shouted in unison as they retaliated by moving their stones.
Brenna didn’t understand their play and couldn’t care less. All she knew was that it gave her the advantage of observing Magnus. She was determined to reveal the genuinely selfish man that he was, the one he so craftily hid beneath a quiet, mannerly exterior.
The muscular man, a massive warrior, built for fighting battles and not crouching on the floor, changed positions and covertly massaged a knee. A moment of pity flitted through her. With the endless rains confining them, the three had been at the game a long while. Poor fool would be so stiff he’d be unable to walk by the time they finished. Good. Served him right for showing up to steal her dear lad away. She slammed a freshly washed plate down on the shelf so hard it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.
Her conscience pricked at her, sounding a great deal like her sister’s voice. The distant memory of Bree begging her to swear that the child would know his father. Brenna tossed down the rag she had used to wipe the dishes, fetched a three-legged stool out of the shadows, and thumped it down beside Magnus. “Here. Before ye cripple yerself.”
“I thank ye, lass,” he said as he hoisted himself onto the stool. “And my poor knee thanks ye even more.”
She replied with nothing more than a dip of her chin. Curse the rains. Would they never cease and free her of this forced companionship?
“What’s wrong with yer knee?” Keigan asked. “Was it a fierce battle? Did ye kill them after they wounded ye?”
Brenna rolled her eyes. What was it about males that made them glorify such things? She braced herself, half tempted to stuff rags in her ears to keep from hearing what would surely be a murderous lie of honor and glory.
Evander laughed out loud, then snapped his mouth shut. “Sorry,” he snickered in response to Magnus’s chilling glare.
“I hurt it saving a pup,” Magnus said, leaning forward to slide a pebble to a different square within the circle.
“Ye mean when ye tried,” Evander interrupted. “We had to save him and the pup both.”
“Go check on the horses,” Magnus ordered, jabbing a finger at the door. “Now.”
“It’s pouring buckets even harder,” Evander argued. “I’m just now dried out from last time.” Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Yer ill manners just earned ye another good soaking and more chores. Now, go.” Magnus rose to his full height and pointed at the door again. “And dinna come back inside until ye’ve moved the beasts closer to the shelter and seen that they’re safe and calm. Understand?”
The sullen lad ducked his head and stomped out the door.
“Why did ye send him out in the rain again?” Keigan asked.
“Because he needed a lesson in respecting his elders,” Brenna explained before she could stop herself. She bit the inside of her cheek. What was wrong with her? Defending the fool man? And was that a hint of a smile tugging at his lips? By goodness, if he finished that smirk, she would throw a pot at him.
Magnus must have sensed her irritation because he cleared his throat and lowered himself back to the stool. “Ye asked how I hurt my knee. Remember?”
“Aye.” Keigan scooted closer, his face alight with interest. “What happened to the puppy? Was a bad man trying to hurt it, and ye had to fight him off?”
It was Magnus who ducked his head this time, but he looked embarrassed rather than sullen. “Nay, lad. Nothing like that.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Tor Ruadh is built into the side of the mighty Ben Nevis. There are caves aplenty that run deep into the mountain. Some connect to the main stable and some to other parts of the keep.” He stretched out his leg and rubbed the knee in question as if telling the story renewed the old injury. “The nosy wee dog went exploring and trapped himself down in a pit in one of the caves.” He grinned, still staring down at his knee. “Luckily, the tiny scamp’s crying alerted its mother. One of our best dogs at herding cows, horses, or children. She saw to it that we found her pup.”
“It wouldha died if ye hadna found it.” Keigan’s wide eyes showed his heart and soul invested in the story. But then his fair brows drew together. “Did the dog bite ye? Is that what happened to yer knee? Surely, a pup couldna do that much damage.”
Magnus’s jaw tightened. When he lifted his gaze to Keigan’s, he gave a sheepish shrug. “When I jumped down into the pit to fetch the wee mongrel, a rock I didna see foiled my landing. Twisted my knee something fierce and knocked me on me arse.” He shrugged again. “Then we both had to be saved.”
Keigan laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m certain that hurt verra much.” He granted Magnus a braw smile. “But I am proud ye tried to save the puppy.”
Brenna turned away and stared out the window. What sort of man told such a thing on himself when he couldha just as easily made up a story to save his pride and claimed Evander to be a liar?
“Aye, well…I couldna verra well leave the poor thing there to die, now could I?” Magnus once more stood, stretching to his full height. He opened the door and shouted at Evander, “Fetch wood and some water from the burn. Then ye can come inside.”
“There’s still plenty in the keg. I filled it from the rainwater barrel,” Brenna said. Did the man not see the wooden cup floating so near the top? “And the wood ye brought in earlier is just now dry enough for the fire. If he brings in more, it’ll be soaked all over again.”
Magnus closed the door with a decisive thud. “Evander needs a wet walk through the woods. Dinna worry. He can stack the wood over there and sit on it ’til they both dry out.”
“Ye are a stern taskmaster, sir.” She returned to wiping the chipped plates that were already clean, chiding herself for speaking her thoughts in a manner that might be misunderstood as friendly teasing. Never would she consider such light-hearted banter. Not with the man who had helped her sister destroy all their lives. But trapped inside with this frustrating beast who had so far shown no despicable behavior was making it a chore to treat him with silent disdain.
He moved to the window and uncovered it to watch Evander’s progress. “The lad is of an age where he feels the need to test the waters a mite too much for his good. Like a young buck challenging the old stag.” With a satisfied nod at the soaked young man, he continued, “He’ll learn, and I daresay my lessons are a great deal kinder than some.”
“Can I go help him?” Keigan asked. “I dinna care if’n I get wet.”
Entirely too many days of rain had worn on them all. It wouldn’t hurt the lad, and it wasn’t like everything wasn’t damp as could be anyway. Brenna tilted her head toward the door. “Off wi’ ye for a bit. Dinna get close to the steep banks alongside the stream. It will be swollen with the rains and swifter than the devil.
And the ground could give way before ye know it.”
As soon as he had charged out the door, she realized her error. Here she stood alone with the man she had wished dead more times than she could remember. From the look on his face, he found the situation as uncomfortable as she did. “My sister defended ye, saying ye traveled to earn yer way. A sword for hire. How do ye expect to raise my Keigan if he chooses to live with ye as yer son?” With the boys outside, now was as good a time as any to find out all she could.
“Should he accept me as his father, my mercenary days will be at an end.” He idled his way around the fire, hands clasped behind him. “There’s always room for another sword to guard the keep.” A faint smile deepened the dimple in his cheek. “I’m nay too proud to join the MacCoinnich guards.”
“Ye mentioned caves.” She resettled her stance as though spoiling for a fight. “How do ye expect to keep a nosy wee bairn from making the same mistake as that pup?”
“Why…I would tell him he best not go there without me.”
That error in his thinking caused her to snort. “Ye think just because ye say a thing, he will obey it without trying ye?”
“He does what ye tell him.”
“Most the time, he does what I tell him,” she corrected. “That’s after years and years of scolding and smacking his bum for him. Dinna be fool enough to think he willna test ye to see what he can get away with.” She stretched to peer out the window in search of either lad. “He might seem an angel, but let me tell ye, there are times aplenty when his wee horns knock his halo askew.”
The wind chose that moment to switch directions and gust through the open window, dousing the table and tossing loose thatching from the roof across everything in its path.
“Saints alive! I had hoped to leave it open for a bit of fresh air.” Brenna hefted the window’s makeshift shutter back in place and wedged it shut with a stick of wood. Drying her face and arms with her apron, she turned, then froze in place. Astonishment struck her mute.
The Ghost Page 4
