The Highlander's Secret

by Jennifer Siddoway

  Chapter Three

  Jain didn’t know what to do with her hands while she looked up at Alan standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders and muscled chest nearly blocked the entire opening as he greeted Jain’s mother in the threshold.

  “Good morrow, Moira. Jain. Aileen,” he addressed the others with a nod. His shaggy blond hair fell past his shoulders and in his arms was a bit of cloth.

  “Good morrow. Glad to see ye,” Moira greeted him, ushering him to come inside. “Please, come in and warm yerselves by the fire.”

  Jain glanced over at him while her mother spoke, and their eyes met from across the room. His were dark and mysterious, and brown as the chestnut mare they had outside. She felt like she could get lost in them for hours. The corner of his mouth edged up into a crooked smile when he saw her and Jain felt a warm sensation spread across her body.

  She looked away before anyone else could notice, but the apples of her cheeks felt hot. Thankfully, her mother and Aileen were too distracted at playing host to see her skin grow flushed.

  “Bruce had me bring up the blade ye commissioned, since I was coming here anyway. I wanted to show ye it was finished.”

  Moira clapped her hands together and laughed. “Ah, yes. The blade is here at last. Let’s see it then.”

  Alan walked into the house and set the bundle on the table. It landed on the wooden surface with a metallic clink and he started to unwrap it.

  Rodrick appeared at the door a few minutes later and waved his hand in greeting. He had an easy smile and boyish charm that endeared him to everyone he met. His warm, brown eyes twinkled when he saw her cousin, and then he cleared his throat discreetly. Aileen flushed at the sight of him and stood up from her chair, almost knocking it over in the process.

  Jain rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh at the two of them. They were just so adorably awkward she couldn’t help herself at times.

  “Good morrow, Moira … Aileen,” he said nervously.

  Moira embraced him with a hug and welcomed him inside. “Good morrow, Rodrick. Alan was just about to show us the blade that he’s been working on.”

  Jain watched as Alan unwrapped the fabric on the table and laid the blade out for them to see. The blade was razor sharp, with a Celtic dragon on the hilt. The carving along its handle was intricately fine and would be the envy of all who saw it. Especially for an apprentice so new to the trade, the work was far beyond anything she expected – he’d be a master of the craft in no time.

  Jain heard her mother gasp at the sight of it, gazing down at the crafted steel. “Oh, Alan … tis beautiful,” Moira told him.

  Alan smiled at her compliment, but gazed up at Jain when he responded, “I agree. Beauty does not begin to describe it.”

  The tone of his voice was tender, and it did not escape her notice that Alan was talking about her and not the blade. Jain gazed back at him in surprise. His brown eyes bore into her from where he stood, beneath a handsome brow ridge. She felt her body stiffen at the connection and butterflies danced within her stomach, before Jain shook her head and blushed.

  Moira continued to gaze down at the prize. “How did ye get the metal to shape like that?” she asked.

  “I was trying something new with the steel and it turned out better than I could have hoped.”

  Rodrick chuckled. “Alan has been working on nothing else fer a whole month straight. I thought he was going mad.”

  Jain grinned and rinsed her hands off in the basin before crossing her arms in front of her chest and coming to see Alan’s work. She’d been over to the smithy regularly to visit her uncle and had plenty of opportunities to see Alan work. It was an impressive sight to see, whenever Alan wielded a hammer. Over the past year his skill grew from that of a mere apprentice to that of a talented craftsman. He was not a scrawny teenager anymore, the years with Bruce had made him strong. He was two and twenty years old, and tall.

  When Jain stood beside him, she felt the heat of his body next to her and the hairs of the back of her neck stood on edge in anticipation. At one point their hands accidently touched underneath the table and it made her skin ignite with delicious tingles. Perhaps it was not so accidental after all – for either of them. He smelled dark and heady, with just a hint of sweat.

  Jain thought it was exactly the way a man should smell, and it stirred something deep inside her she could not identify.

  What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be focusing on the way he smelled or looked, but it was near intoxicating once she recognized the effect he had on her and that made it difficult to think about anything else. Jain’s breath caught in her chest as his presence beside her became even more of a distraction. She brushed her fingers across the hilt.

  Her jaw fell open at its delicate beauty.

  How could someone as large and strong as Alan be capable of such intricate work? Jain had seen his hands as they wielded a hammer in Bruce’s shop and knew the power they could harness. Yet, those same hands were able to handle something this fine and delicate. It was a marvel of skill and artistry.

  Jain’s mind began to wander, thinking about what else those hands might be capable of. She wondered what it would be like to have someone like Alan hold her and let his hands perform their magic. Jain stopped herself before her mind could run away with her and then shook her head as if to banish them forever.

  No, if she started thinking of Alan that way it could ruin everything. It wasn’t proper.

  She swallowed hard, licking her lips as she ran her eyes across the blade. It was true, the craftsmanship was exquisitely fine and Eamon would be pleased. Once she was finished admiring the blade, Jain quickly set it back down on the table. “Tis a work of art indeed,” she told him. “Ye should be very proud.”

  Moira cleared her throat and said, “Please tell Bruce that his wee sister sends along her compliments.”

  Alan nodded. “I will. Thank ye.”

  The woman glanced up towards the ceiling and said, “Now, if ye lads would be so good as to get started on the roof, I believe Eamon has gathered supplies around back.”

  “Aye, Alan and I saw it when we arrived,” Rodrick nodded. “We’d best get started on that right away.”

  Jain noticed Aileen was completely silent, looking back over her shoulder at the stable hand. She wondered if her dear cousin was experiencing the same thing she was, allowing her mind to wander to places unmarried maids should probably avoid. Jain smiled, thinking she already knew the answer to that – of course she was. Though Aileen and Rodrick never talked, they snuck glances at each other while each thought the other wasn’t looking.

  Alan rolled his eyes and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, lad. We needn’t be pestering these good women any longer. We have other business to attend to.”

  They turned to walk away and Aileen stared after the two of them, dumbstruck. Moira waved them goodbye and turned back to the girls.

  “Aye, the lad is right. There is plenty to be done around here as well. Once ye get that loaf in the fire, I want ye to come help me in the garden.”

  Jain nodded, looking down at the second loaf of fancy woven dough and said, “Aye, Mam.”

  “Aye, Aunt,” Aileen piped in beside her.

  They both watched her leave and once she was gone they turned back towards the work table to finish with the dough. The weave had held its shape well and the decoration would brown nicely when it was cooked. Jain eased it over the coals and stepped back with a contented sigh.

  When they stepped outside, Jain closed her eyes and breathed in deeply the cool autumn air. There was a gusty wind blowing through the hills and the smell of grass wafted towards them. Aileen started on the grassy path down to the garden where fruits and vegetables waited to be picked.

  Moira met them at the gate and gestured to the row of carrots. “We need to get those inside before the chill. Some of the leaves are already beginning to turn.”

  Jain knelt in the dirt and started pulling them by the leafy stock. S
he noticed some Juniper along the fence that grew wild between the hedges and decided to pick some of that as well. It might make for a flavorful loaf and even help season their meat as well. “Aye, we’ll be having a fine dinner with carrots and chicken tonight then. It’ll make a fine stew, dinnae ye ken?”

  Moira chuckled. “Indeed, it will.”

  Aileen knelt beside her in the garden and joined in the work. “Mayhap Rodrick and Alan would like to join us?”

  Jain grinned, glancing over at her with a knowing look. “Ye fancy him?”

  “No. Well … mayhap a wee bit.”

  Moira and Jain both laughed as she turned a brilliant red. They liked to tease her about her affection for Rodrick, even though everyone already knew. Aileen chuckled and looked away embarrassed. Moira walked back towards the house, saying, “I’ll see if they can join us. They’ll have earned it after fixing that roof all day. It would be good to have the company.”

  The gate swung shut behind her and Jain was still chuckling to herself. Aileen smiled and playfully knocked her in the shoulder. “Haud yer wheesht.”

  “I’ll do nae such thing,” Jain laughed. “Rodrick’s a fine man. Ye quite deserve each other.”

  Aileen grinned. “Much like Alan has his eyes set on ye.”

  Jain’s expression softened at the mention of his name. “We’re just friends. Ye ken that.”

  There was a bittersweet sadness in her voice that seemed to resonate inside her. The tone of it when she spoke surprised her. She hadn’t realized until that moment how deep her affection for Alan ran. It was true, they’d been spending a lot of time together recently, and that was all some of the people in the village needed to start talking.

  “To ye perhaps,” her cousin responded in agreement. “But what about him? Name one lad ye’d rather spend the day with than the blacksmith’s apprentice.”

  Jain rolled her eyes and ripped another carrot from the ground. “It’s not that,” she mused while glancing up towards the roof. Alan and Rodrick stood on the rafters talking to each other as they replaced the weather torn thatching. She watched them for a moment, admiring the broadness of his shoulders.

  Had they always been that large? And when did his skin receive the sun-kissed tan? She had to concentrate to busy herself with the vegetables and continue chatting with Aileen.

  He’d make a fine husband to any lass that wanted him, but Jain was afraid that being a wife was not for her. Beneath the calm exterior she had a wild heart. Part of her would always yearn to be set free. There were times when she felt an uncontrollable desire to find out more about her past, the one she had before coming to live with the family she had now.

  Jain remembered being a wee lass and completely in love with the open sea. The smell of salt in the air and the wild bowing of the ship as it crashed against the waves. She loved gazing out into the open water and seeing new land rise in the distance. It was always an adventure and that made life exciting—the thrill of the unknown.

  The days of sailing with her family were gone, but the memory of it kept her dream alive.

  “I want more to my life than to be married and settle down here,” Jain told her cousin. “If that happens … I’ll never get the chance to leave.”

  Aileen raised an eyebrow and asked her, “Why do ye have to leave?”

  Jain sighed. “It’s not that I want to leave, but I long to ken what else is out there.”

  Her cousin smiled, glancing back at the roof where Alan and Rodrick tended to the thatching. “Ye ken, Jain…sometimes ye spend so much time looking outward that ye forget to appreciate what ye already have.”

  “What are ye saying?”

  “I’m saying that mayhap what ye’re looking fer has been here all along.”

  Jain’s mouth fell open at the truthfulness of Aileen’s words and she glanced up at the roof again.

  “I’m not telling ye how to feel,” Jain’s cousin assured her. “I just dinnae want ye to miss out on something wonderful because ye’re too distracted to realize it was there.”

  Before she could respond, Jain heard the sound of people talking and the rumbling of wagon wheels down the road. She turned to see who it was, squinting her eyes against the noonday sun. Heather Gordon and her father rocked on the seat of their wagon as it rolled along, their old mare trudging the familiar path. Jain smiled at them and knocked her cousin lightly on the shoulder to get her attention. When Aileen looked up and saw their friend coming as well, she waved to them in hopes of catching their attention.

  “Heather!”

  The dark-haired girl riding on the wagon turned at the sound of her name and waved to them enthusiastically. “Hello, Jain!” she called. “Aileen, so good to see ye.”

  Heather’s father, Boyd, stopped the wagon and gestured for her to go to them. With his leave, she hopped off the wagon and ran over to the garden where Jain and Aileen were working. Heather’s curly black hair was pulled back into a scarf like Jain’s, above a gorgeous pair of deep blue eyes.

  “Oh, look at all the carrots,” Heather gushed. “Ye have a wonderful crop this year.”

  Jain nodded, looking down at the carrots she’d been collecting in her basket. “Aye, that we do. Where are ye off to?” she asked them curiously.

  Heather smiled, glancing over at her father. “We were dropping off some crops ourselves at the clan storage,” she told them. As part of their autumn harvest, everyone in the village was expected to contribute to the communal supply food and goods to take care of their people in the winter months. “Da’s made three trips so far. I promised to go with him this time and lend a hand. Are ye going to make it to the festival tomorrow? I'd love to see ye at the fires.”

  Jain nodded at the mention of their yearly celebration. “Aye. Of course we will. Aileen and I will look fer ye by the fire side.”

  “Wonderful, I will see ye tomorrow then,” she exclaimed. “Oh, I just ken it’s going to be lovely.”

  “Heather!” Boyd called to her from the road. “We’d best be getting back now.”

  The girl offered Jain an apologetic smile and skipped back towards the road where the wagon and her father were still waiting for her to return. Jain waved goodbye to them and Heather climbed back onto her seat. She and her father continued up the hill that would take them towards the village.

  Jain watched her go and exhaled a tired sigh when the wagon creaked away. Aileen had been gushing about the harvest festival for weeks now. Jain was excited too, but nervous at the same time. She reached down to pull a few more carrots when a low, pleasant humming of Alan’s singing came floating down from where he was working on the roof.

  The edge of her mouth curved up into a smile and Jain’s thoughts inevitably went back to her conversation with Aileen. Maybe her cousin was right about him. Maybe she did have feelings for him.

  She’d never allowed herself to think on it before. Next to her cousin, Alan was Jain’s favorite person in the world and she didn’t want his affection to be taken for granted. He deserved better than that.

  The only question was: how could she be true to herself and still hold a place for him in her heart? Could Jain ever be truly happy with a simple life—or would broken dreams eventually turn to resentment? She wanted not to be so restless, but her heart was a wild thing that could not be caged.

  Chapter Four

  Conrad cleared his throat when he approached the chicken coop, running his fingers through his hair. He saw Eamon kneeling outside, cleaning up blood and feathers. It looked as if one of the hens had been killed. The smell of poultry and residual filth wafted up towards his nostrils in an offensive aroma, but thankfully, the old man had not yet noticed his arrival and Conrad didn’t have to hide his obvious disgust.

  Jain’s father poked his head out from the damaged remains of the coop that he’d been working on and glanced up at him curiously. “Conrad, how good to see ye. Is everything alright?”

  “Aye, sir. I came to speak with ye.”

  The man rai
sed an eyebrow at him and said, “What did ye have in mind? As ye can see, I’m very busy.”

  “Jain,” Conrad stated simply with an air of confidence.

  Eamon stood and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Aye, that would be my daughter. What business could ye have involving her?”

  “Well, seeing as how she is a woman grown, I thought it was time ye ken I intend to marry her.”

  Eamon chuckled. He glanced down at his dirty hands while cleaning them off with a rag. His reaction caught Conrad off guard and he wondered to himself if the man was laughing at him.

  “Ye would take my Jain to wife?” he quipped.

  Conrad smirked and placed his hands on his hips while he took another step forward. “Aye, Eamon. I would.”

  Eamon sighed, placing his hands firmly on his hips before responding. “Lad, I’m sure one day ye’ll find a sweet lass that could make yer heart content. However, I am not convinced Jain would be happy in the arrangement.”

  Conrad’s jaw fell open at his assessment. Since when did a woman’s happiness matter? They were expected to marry and then do what they were told. “W..who’s to say that’s her decision? If ye agree to the match, then surely Jain would have to go along with it.”

  Eamon crossed his arms and arched a brow. “Why would I do that to my own daughter when I ken she’d be unhappy?”

  “I’ll protect her. Give her sons,” Conrad insisted. “Isn’t that more important than having her grow into a spinster?”

  For some reason that appeared to anger Eamon. He frowned. “My word is final.”

  Conrad pursed his lips at Eamon’s refusal, and felt rage boiling up inside him. The conversation was not going how he expected. Eamon should be overwhelmed with gratitude that a warrior was offering to marry his pathetic daughter – even though beautiful she may be.

  “What exactly is yer objection to me?” the warrior sneered. “Ye dinnae ken I’d be a good husband?”

  “Not to Jain,” Eamon shot back. “I’ll never force her to marry against her will.”