Highland Sanctuary

by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

  "Well now, this puts a whole new perspective on things." Malvina tapped her chin in thought. "Ye're such a levelheaded lass. I've never known anyone to gain yer favor." She shrugged. "Although I suppose ye haven't had much to choose from in the village."

  "The two of ye have verra active imaginations. I'd venture that the poor mon fears for his safety when I'm around. I nearly knocked him down the stairs." Serena glanced from Malvina's wicked grin to Doreen's dreamy expression. She threw her hands up in surrender. "I'll finish the inventory later. Right now, I think I'll inspect the vegetable gardens."

  "Ye know what I think?" Doreen's voice rose, reaching Serena at the door.

  Curiosity lingered over her will to depart, and Serena paused at the threshold.

  "If ye won't have enough faith to believe in what ye think is impossible, then God will have to bring ye a miracle to make ye believe."

  "What do ye mean?" Serena tilted her head, regarding Doreen with speculation, but interested enough to listen.

  "It's simple." Doreen shrugged. "Ye've just met a live saint— the kind ye didn't think existed—a mere mon. He's twice rescued ye. I daresay, ye'll be seein' more of him while he's here. I hope ye decide to make the most of it."

  "I've no such intention." Serena turned and strode away.

  "Consider yer future and that of yer mither's." Doreen's words echoed after her . . . mocking . . . digging into the private places of her heart as a haunting reminder that she would never be like the other lasses.

  Gavin MacKenzie could never know her humiliating secret.

  After an eventful day at Braigh Castle, Gavin and Leith rode back toward camp. As the sun descended, a crisp chill floated through the air gently lifting off the sea. They climbed the steep twelve-foot hill at a steady pace.

  "I'll have the men start with building scaffolds on the morrow," Leith said. "We'll need to finish the outside walls first, while we have warm summer days ahead."

  "Aye." Gavin nodded. "When do ye plan to visit the town merchants for supplies?"

  "In the next few days, as soon as I have the men settled in their assigned tasks. I canna afford to wait too long or they won't have aught to do." Leith crested the hill first. He glanced over his shoulder with a wide grin. "Look who we have here." He tilted his brown head forward.

  Curiosity prompted Gavin to move his horse faster. His pulse quickened at the sight of Serena thirty paces ahead. She walked toward the village and twirled a long stick in her hand. Gavin paused to watch her. "Has she noticed us yet?"

  "I don't think so." Leith shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'd sneak up on her if I didn't think the horses would give us away. I wonder what she would think if she knew we were watching?"

  "No doubt, she'll know soon enough. We canna stay here like two sorry souls at the King's court gaping at a selection of bonny lasses." Gavin allowed his eyes to feast upon her. Serena's long black hair hung down her back like a velvet curtain over her tan cloak. She entered the forest path, the center of a scene with pine needle branches enveloping her.

  "That may be what ye're doing, dear brother, but I intend to be a gentleman. I'll make my presence known and talk to the lass." Leith directed his horse into a trot.

  Serena looked natural in any setting he'd seen her so far— at home in a wee cottage surrounded by poor villagers—even in a large castle among fine things. He'd rather see her as mistress of such a grand place, not a servant. She deserved better. Her speech and manners pointed at an education. Evelina as well.

  He tried to imagine her sitting at his mother's place in the great hall of MacKenzie Castle. Gavin shook his head. What was he thinking?

  As Leith approached her, Serena smiled up at him. They talked until Gavin caught up. Her smile faded. Disappointment loaded Gavin's chest like a pile of stones. Did she not welcome his presence? What had he done? The idea of her disliking him churned his stomach and unsettled him.

  Sholto snorted and pawed the dust in restless protest, as if determined to gain her attention. It worked. Serena turned and grinned at the animal, reaching toward him.

  "Ye might be careful," Gavin warned as Sholto pranced in place and snorted again. "He's a bit spirited right now."

  The moment Serena touched him, he calmed. She rubbed the side of his neck and crooned into the beast's ear as if he were a human bairn.

  "Nonsense, he only needs a wee bit of love and attention." Serena scratched him between the ears, and Sholto's tail swung in a circle, content and happy.

  Gavin watched, certain if his horse had been a cat, he'd be purring. She had favor with animals, he'd give her that. If only he could find a way into her good graces as easily as Sholto.

  "I've a mind to admit that Gavin has worked many hours with Sholto and tamed him when no one else could," Leith said. "But I've never seen the beast calm at a few simple words as ye've done this day."

  "'Tis naught." She looked down and jabbed the stick in the dirt and twisted it.

  "Why do ye carry a stick?" Gavin asked.

  "Sometimes Phelan walks with me. If he doesn't, I carry a stick lest I'm suddenly attacked. It isn't much, but it affords me something beyond my own two hands."

  "Allow me to take ye home. It's getting dark." Gavin held out his hand.

  "Nay, but thank ye." She stepped back, shaking her head. "Ye've come to my aid many times in the last few days. I wouldn't want to start relying on ye. Where would that leave me after ye've finished the castle repairs and gone home?"

  Gavin lowered his hand.

  "But that's so far away." Leith leaned forward. "We could be here almost a year."

  "I enjoy walking in the fresh air." Her moss-green eyes met Gavin's, and he recognized a will of fortitude.

  "Ye can ride Sholto, while I walk beside ye." He hoped to tempt her with what she liked—his horse. She reached up and stroked the animal again. While Gavin was relieved that Serena appeared to consider the offer, it wounded his pride that she would only do so if he didn't ride with her.

  Just when he thought she would accept, the stubborn woman shook her head and backed away. "Please, I prefer to walk alone as I always do."

  "Verra well." Leith nodded. "We'd be honored to escort ye in the mornings, or give ye a ride—especially if it's raining."

  "Think about it." Gavin wanted to keep trying, but he took his brother's cue and relented.

  "Thank ye. Good day." She dismissed them with a brief curtsy.

  They rode in silence for a while, waiting until they were out of hearing. After rounding a corner, Leith glanced over his shoulder and cleared his throat. "With the exception of Lesley, I've never seen ye so taken before. She's comely and bright to be sure, but there's the question of her lineage and station."

  "Don't fash yerself, Leith." Gavin sounded harsher than he intended. "I'm quite aware of what Da would say. But yer concern isn't warranted. I get the impression that Serena has no desire for me—at least not in that way. "

  A scream echoed through the woods. Gavin straightened as he calmed Sholto. Female weeping followed. Gavin's blood raced. It didn't sound like Serena, but a strong desire to go back and see to her safety seized him.

  "It's from up ahead," Leith said. "Come on. We might be of help."

  "Ye go. I canna leave Serena unprotected in these woods." Gavin turned his horse. "I'm goin' back for her."

  "Good idea." Leith charged forward, stiring up a cloud of dust behind him.

  Gavin rode Sholto until he saw Serena walking with her stick. He slowed as she glanced up at his approach, an uncertain expression in her green eyes. Serena shivered.

  "What was that?" She rubbed Sholto on the neck. Her hand trembled. "I thought I heard a scream."

  "Ye did." Gavin grabbed her hand, leaned over, and met her gaze. "I've come back for ye. An' this time I won't leave without ye. These woods are too dangerous."

  "What happened?"

  "I'm not sure. Leith went on to check it out. We'll likely see for ourselves in a wee bit." Gavin
offered her his arm. "Grab on. I'll pull ye up."

  At first he thought she would refuse, but then she closed her eyes and clutched him. He lifted her and she gasped as she settled behind him. Her arms wrapped around his middle. He liked having her next to him—mayhap too much.

  Gavin nudged Sholto forward. He galloped toward the sound of a weeping lass bent over a dead cow. She lifted her tear-stained brown eyes, her dark hair fell over her shoulder.

  "'Tis Lavena!" Serena said.

  Leith had dismounted and bent examining the animal. The blood still oozed to the ground, a recent kill.

  "My sister didn't get around to her chores this morn, so I offered to help her this evenin'. We needed the milk. I couldn't find her an' now I know why." Lavena's lower lip trembled and fresh tears filled her eyes. "Who could do such a horrible thing? We depend on our animals. We don't have much as it is."

  "Could it have been Quinn's wolf?" Gavin asked.

  "Nay." Leith stood and stepped back, pointing at the carcass. "Look at the wound. The cut is smooth and clean. Only a sword or a dagger could have done that. Whoever it was didn't steal this animal for food or profit or they wouldn't have left it here." Leith met Gavin's gaze. "The question is—why?"

  Serena stepped into the small, humble home she had come to cherish over the years. Relief filled her aching muscles as she pulled off her cloak with a sigh. Her first day working back at the castle had tired her more than she thought it would, but the murdered cow had shaken her even more.

  "Here she is." Tomas stood from the wooden chair he'd been sitting in at the table.

  Her mother bent over an iron pot hanging from the hearth, stirring. Gunna stood kneading dough on the other side of the table from Tomas. The aroma of rabbit stew lifted in the air, a musky scent mixed with onions, carrots, and spinach leaves. Any other time she would welcome the smell, but for the moment, her stomach rolled.

  "Did ye bring us another rabbit, Tomas?" Serena asked, hanging her cloak on a peg by the door.

  "Aye." Her mother straightened, rubbing her hand on her lower back. "And a good thing he did or else we'd have no meat with our vegetable stew this night."

  "I went hunting this afternoon with Quinn and Beacon. Surviving their boasting was quite an adventure. I thought the two of them would scare away the prey before they stopped arguing over who would bring back the most meat."

  Glad to free her mind from the recent troubles, Serena grinned. The two behaved more like brothers, fighting one minute and planning events the next. She had no doubt they'd defend each other to the death.

  "I caught two rabbits, I did. And I thought to myself," Tomas touched a finger to the side of his head, "who would enjoy such a fine feast and be so kind as to share their even finer cooking? That's when I thought of the three of ye." He bent in a mock bow, dipping his chin where she could no longer see his gray eyes. A thin layer of brown hair on his head reminded Serena of the peaches a peddler once brought to the village.

  "Serena, I believe yer advice to Gavin about Quinn helped him handle things peacefully," Tomas said.

  "Dearie me, but she preaches to all of us, ye know." Gunna covered the dough biscuits in the oven pan and carried them to the fireplace.

  "That's not true. I merely give a wee bit of advice when it's needed." Serena clenched her fists at her side and pretended to glare at the sweet woman she thought of as a grandmother. "What can I do to help?"

  "Ye can pour that pitcher of water over my hands outside. They need washing." Gunna headed for the door.

  "And when ye finish that, ye can set the table. I think the rabbit stew is about done," Mother said.

  Serena grabbed the soap and pitcher and followed Gunna out. A nip in the air made her shiver without her cloak. The skyline looked like a dark gray canvas with sparkling jewels. It was rare that clouds didn't congregate above them, hiding the stars.

  "I think Father Tomas is verra lonely," Gunna said as Serena poured water over her hands. She lathered the soap and scrubbed the dough off with expert force. "I wonder if he ever regrets giving his vows to the church, especially after the way they treated him—sending him here."

  "Well, I'm glad they sent him here. He's one of the best things that ever happened to our village." Serena said. "Although, I'm sorry he now has a speech problem when he's nervous and that's why he lost his other church."

  "Loneliness has it's own grief." Gunna's voice faded as she paused. Serena knew she was thinking of her own dear husband, dead two years before Serena's birth.

  "Let's not dwell on the past." Serena laid a hand on her shoulder. "Mither and Tomas are waiting."

  "Aye, that they are."

  To Serena's relief, Gunna's tone brightened in an instant. Serena disliked it when Gunna became distressed. It was like her own heart wept with her. Serena ushered her inside. "Warm yer hands by the fire, Gunna. It's cold out."

  Gunna hobbled over to the fire.

  Serena allowed her gaze to stray to Gunna's bulky form, her gray bun such a familiar and dear sight. The back of Serena's throat stung with the realization that Gunna was getting on in years and might not be with them much longer. Serena's heart swelled and tightened.

  "Hurry, Serena. I've already flipped the bread cakes for Gunna," Mither said.

  Launching into action, Serena dismissed her wayward thoughts. "I ran into Gavin MacKenzie and his men at the castle." Serena left out the part about actually running into Gavin and landing on his toes. She set out the wooden bowls and spoons, while her mother filled them with stew.

  "Father Tomas, I'm sorry but water is all we have to offer." Gunna poured water into the cups.

  "Ye know perfectly well that is fine by me." He rubbed his belly. "I feel blessed the three of ye took pity on me and let me have a wee bit of that delicious stew I've been smelling for the past hour."

  Serena handed Tomas a warm bread cake. "And we enjoy the entertaining conversation."

  "Oh, dearie me!" Gunna gasped, setting down the water. "Look what I've gone and done." She set the cup she had spilt upright. Water soaked the wood and leaked through the cracks onto the dirt floor.

  "Don't worry, Gunna." Serena grabbed a nearby towel hanging on a wall peg and mopped up the access water. "I'll take care of it."

  "I canna see like I used to." Gunna wrung her hands together and side-stepped from one foot to the other.

  "Come, Gunna. Ye need to rest awhile. Ye've been up on yer feet far too long." Mother pulled out a chair and gestured to it.

  Sighing, Gunna settled in the seat. She shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't used to be so awkward." She looked at Tomas. "I'm afraid I'm more of a bother than a help these days."

  "There comes a time to be served. Ye've spent all yer years serving these two. Let them return the favor. It'll make them feel good," Tomas said.

  "I agree with Tomas." Mother poured more water in Gunna's cup.

  Serena sat across from Tomas, while her mother faced Gunna. They bowed their heads and closed their eyes. In silence she gave thanks for holding her tongue about the murdered cow. Gunna didn't need the stress.

  "Father, thank ye for this meal and the friends we have. Please bless this family with yer protection, provision, and wisdom. In Jesus' name."

  "Amen," everyone said together.

  Tomas dug his spoon into the stew. He chewed and swallowed. "Gavin tells me he and his men will be attending kirk this Sunday. 'Twill be nice to have some visitors again. I only hope I don't shake and blunder my words."