The Promise of Peace

by Carol Umberger

  “Ye mustn’t do that, my lady.”

  “Give me one good reason to stay.”

  Owyn stood up. “Stay right here and I will bring ye a reason.”

  Puzzled, she said, “All right.”

  In a few minutes Owyn returned carrying something in his hands. He put it in her hands and sat down beside her.

  “Keifer’s treasure box! Where has it been?”

  “I left it here with Lady Kathryn for safekeeping.” He handed her the key, still laced on the faded ribbon she had taken from her hair.

  As she took the key, she stared at the box. “This is the reason I should not go to Moy?”

  “Ye will find the reason inside, my lady.” And with that he stood and walked away.

  Curious, Nola placed the key in the lock. The mechanism stuck, and she had to use force to make the key turn. She undid the lock and opened the lid. There lay the Macnab laird’s ring, encrusted with mud. Why wasn’t Keifer wearing it? And what did it have to do with . . . ?

  Her vision blurred as she gazed at the item laying beneath the ring. There next to the wooden horse lay the bracelet, Nola’s favor. Keifer had kept it! Had worn it until it was faded and frayed.

  It had been new once, just as their love was new. Just as their love would one day be old and frayed, so long as they didn’t throw it away.

  She clutched the braided twine in her hands, knowing what she must do. She made her way to the chapel. Once there, she dropped to her knees in prayer. She asked that Keifer would live, crippled or not. And asked for God’s guidance in how to be the wife he needed in their changed circumstances.

  As she left the chapel she felt stronger, more resolute, and ready to face her husband. Lady Kathryn informed Nola that Keifer was definitely getting stronger. But still he did not ask for her. Nola wandered Homelea’s gardens and soon found herself among Lady Kathryn’s roses.

  The late summer blooms perfumed the air as she paced the walkway. Keifer would live. But he didn’t want her to be part of his life. Even the beauty of the roses could not lift the weight from her heart.

  She swiped away tears. Did Keifer think so little of her that he thought she wouldn’t or couldn’t love him now that he lay injured? What did he think would happen when his hair turned gray and fell out? Would he not love her if she proved to be barren?

  She sank onto a stone bench, crying in earnest. How could she explain her feelings if he didn’t want to see her?

  Her father found her there, and Nola turned away when he sat down next to her. But she couldn’t cry forever, and Da seemed patient enough to wait her out. She reached into the ciorbholg at her waist and found a shivereen of cloth, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  Then Nola turned to face her father, and he folded her into his arms. The gesture of sympathy should have brought more tears, but his comfort soothed her spirit. She rested her head on his broad shoulder.

  “Crying doesn’t help, you know,” Adam said.

  “No, but I’ve prayed until I’m sure God is thinking, Enough already.” She smiled weakly and sat up.

  “Keifer needs you to be strong.”

  “Ah, there is the problem, Da. Keifer says he doesn’t need me at all. Doesn’t want me or our marriage.”

  Adam studied her. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “At first I was so angry, I went to my room and started gathering my things,” she admitted.

  “Angry or hurt?”

  “Hurt. Then as I prayed, I saw clearly that his reaction is to be expected.”

  “How is that?”

  “Keifer feels he has been abandoned over and over again.”

  “Since his father and brother died when he was so young, it’s understandable.”

  “Aye. And he felt like his family deserted him when he came to Moy.”

  “He was troubled. I thought he’d gotten over it.” He sighed. “So now he sends you away before you can do the same to him.”

  “So it would seem. And I almost did it. But I’m not going. I don’t care what he says, I’m his wife and his friend . . .” The tears threatened again.

  Adam held her close and patted her back. “Good for you, Nola.”

  When she composed herself, she drew away. “It occurs to me that he could learn some things from your experience with being wounded.

  Would you talk to him?”

  “Keifer knows of my injury and my struggle to overcome it. But just now he’s not going to believe me or anyone else. He will have to learn on his own. With his wife’s help, as I did.”

  Nola smiled. “As mother helped you.”

  His smile was tender. “Aye. Just so.”

  “Do I go to him or wait?”

  “Give him some time.”

  She hugged him. “I love you, Da.”

  “And I love you, Daughter.”

  “You must be anxious to go home. When will you leave?”

  “I miss your mother and brothers.” He paused. “But I believe I’ll stay to see Keifer’s reaction when he finds out you intend to stick like a cocklebur.”

  They laughed, and Nola knew that just as God had seen her father and mother through their difficulties, he would not abandon her or Keifer.

  SIR BRYAN MACKINTOSH glanced about at the colorful autumn English countryside. A warm sun beat down as he rode beside Robert the Bruce, his father and his king. Twenty-one years had passed since that awful day in Carrick when Bruce had learned the fate of his family. Twenty-one years of near ceaseless warfare with England and the three kings named Edward who ruled there.

  Though Bruce would not admit it, Bryan could see that age was catching up to the older warrior. It showed in the lines on his face and the gray in his hair. And in the bouts of the mysterious disease that laid the king low from time to time. Bryan said a quick prayer for Bruce’s continued good health.

  Today though, Bruce was in fine form, and well he should be. Both he and Bryan had their favorite hunting hawks on their arms, riding leisurely though northern England at will, uncontested by the English army.

  Bryan chuckled.

  Bruce turned in his saddle, a rare smile on his familiar face. “Will you share your amusement?”

  “I was just mentally thumbing my nose at Edward III. And his father and grandfather.”

  “Ah, yes. ’Tis a beautiful day to hunt on another man’s land, is it not?”

  They both laughed.

  “Do you think your bluff will work?” Bryan asked.

  “When young Edward and his keepers hear that I am roaming his northern counties, exacting tribute from his people, and claiming the land for Scotland, he will have to act.”

  “You expect him to mount another war?”

  Bruce’s hawk ruffled its feathers, and he calmed the bird before answering. “I expect he will try. But this last pitiful expedition has taxed his treasury to the limit. I don’t think his parliament will pay for another campaign.”

  Randolph and Bruce and their cat-and-mouse tactics had successfully exhausted and demoralized the English army. The expensive Flemish mercenaries with their great war horses had been decimated by the forced marches and insufficient food.

  After a lifetime of struggle, Bruce was about to see the completion of his plan for a united and free Scotland. Peace was in the air, from here in the north of England all the way to Homelea, where Keifer lay struggling to overcome his wounds.

  Bryan said another prayer, this time for the young man’s healing and for the many who had lost homes, fortunes, loved ones, or their very lives in this conflict. They were so close to the promise; surely God would not turn his back now!

  The words of the Declaration of Arbroath came back to him. For it is not glory, it is not riches, neither is it honor, but it is freedom alone that we fight and contend for, which no honest man will lose but with his life.

  “God grant us freedom,” Bryan said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he watched his hawk climb high in the sky.

  “Aye, God grant us freed
om,” Bruce repeated.

  Homelea

  KEIFER GREW STRONGER EVERY DAY and soon realized that he would not die from his injury. Lady Kathryn said to be patient, to wait for the swelling to go down some more and the bruising to heal. Only then could he know the full extent of the damage to his back and its impact on the use of his legs.

  Just as surprising as the news that he was healing was the way Will had spoken to him. Keifer had expected the man to be anxious for Keifer’s demise. But on reflection Keifer had to admit, to himself if no one else, that Will was thinking of Nola, putting her heart and dreams ahead of his own. Will must truly care about her to do that. Which in comparison, didn’t speak too well of Keifer’s recent behavior.

  Still, it had to be easier to be noble when you weren’t faced with being crippled, unable to care for yourself or your loved ones. What kind of husband would he be if he was unable to protect his wife? Unable to fulfill her dreams? But then, he’d given her Paris. Keifer smiled, remembering their time in France. And their precious few weeks as man and wife.

  Keifer missed Nola and regretted chasing her off. He daydreamed constantly about her smile, her laugh, and her eagerness as a wife.

  He hadn’t believed her when she said she would stay with him, so he’d pushed her away. But he missed her. If he was going to live, and that seemed more and more likely, did he really want to live without her? His life would be difficult enough. Without Nola . . . it didn’t bear thinking.

  What if Nola was with child? The thought filled him with fear and exhilaration. All his life Keifer had vowed not to marry, not to abandon a wife and children as his father had done. But Ian had not left of his own accord. How could Keifer do such a thing?

  He could not.

  “I want it to be the way it was when you loved me.” Her words haunted him. He still loved her—would always love her, no matter what. Why didn’t she come to him, his stubborn, wonderful wife? He needed her. Didn’t she realize that it was only his pride that had sent her away?

  His pride had also kept him from seeking God’s forgiveness. But he was done feeling sorry for himself. Done wishing for death, for release from this life.

  Forgive me, Father. I will accept the cup, no matter how bitter, if you will but let me have Nola’s love for the rest of my life. I don’t deserve it, but you already know that.

  Aye, he wanted her. If she would still have him.

  KEIFER AWAKENED THE NEXT MORNING and felt even better. To his disappointment, once again Lady Kathryn came to tend to him, not Nola. He was anxious to heal the rift with Nola, but how long would it be until she came to him?

  As Kathryn picked up Keifer’s dishes, he asked, “Is Nola still at Homelea?”

  “Aye, she is. She asks after you, you know.”

  His heart gladdened with hope. “But she doesn’t come to see me.”

  “Why would she? You made your wishes perfectly clear.”

  And he had. Maybe too clear. Perhaps he must be the one to bend.

  Lady Kathryn studied him. “I think it possible you will regain some use of your legs, Keifer.”

  “God willing, my lady.”

  She smiled. “Shall I send Nola to you?”

  He made up his mind. It was time to get on with his life, accept things as they were, just as Will had said. With God’s help and Nola’s love, he would face the future. “I would like to wash and shave first.”

  She smiled. “May I send Owyn to tend to you?”

  Another rift he needed to mend. “Aye. Send him.”

  “As you wish.”

  Owyn arrived a few minutes later. He did not close the door when he entered the room, as if leaving himself a quick retreat. “Lady Kathryn said ye wanted to see me.” Owyn sounded almost fearful. But then his squire had taken the brunt of Keifer’s anger and self-pity.

  “I want to sit in the chair today, Owyn.”

  “Ye do?” He sounded hopeful, relieved. “Did Lady Kathryn say ye could?”

  “She didn’t say I couldn’t. I want to bathe and shave and sit in a chair to see my wife.”

  Owyn closed the door and walked forward. “Do ye trust me to shave ye?” Owyn’s expression remained neutral but his voice sounded anxious.

  “I do, Owyn.”

  Their gazes met. Owyn must have seen Keifer’s sincerity because his smile nearly split his face. “That’s better, my laird. ’Tis a start, indeed.”

  When Keifer was clean and dry and safely shaved, he pulled a shirt over his head. With Owyn’s help, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. They decided he should kilt a plaid about his hips instead of struggling to pull on breeches.

  It took some maneuvering and more than a few twinges of pain in his back, but they finally managed it. Keifer was sweating by the time Owyn pulled the extra material up over his shoulder and attached it with a decorative pin.

  Owyn held up his boots and Keifer shook his head. “There’s a limit to my strength, Owyn. I’ll have to settle for warm stockings.”

  “Of course.” He found a pair in Keifer’s trunk and helped pull them on.

  Keifer looked down at his clothing with approval. He was ready to meet Nola. “You can’t carry me to the chair, Owyn. I outweigh you by nearly two stone.”

  “Right. I’ll get us some help.”

  Owyn returned in a few minutes with Will.

  Keifer scowled, but Will had been the catalyst for Keifer’s coming to grips with his situation. He owed the man.

  Will stood with his hands on his hips. “So, you’ve decided to live.”

  Their gazes locked. “Aye. If you won’t take care of Nola, what choice do I have?”

  Will raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure it will be a burden.”

  They looked at each other, silently acknowledging a favor received and gratitude given in return.

  “Well, let’s get me in the chair.”

  “Wait,” Owyn cried. He grabbed a pillow off the bed and placed it on the wooden chair.

  “Good idea. Thank you.”

  Then Will and Owyn picked him up and carried him to the chair.

  In the scuffle of getting him settled, someone accidentally stepped on his stocking-covered toes.

  “Ouch! Get off my foot!”

  Will and Owyn both jumped back and started accusing each other of being clumsy.

  Keifer watched them argue, and all he could do was grin.

  Owyn and Will stopped mid-sentence. Owyn recovered first. “Ye felt it?”

  Keifer nodded.

  “You felt it!” Will shouted.

  Keifer reached down and touched his foot, touched them both.

  The sensitivity had returned to the bottoms of his feet as well. He could not make his feet or toes move, but he had to believe this was a good sign.

  “Don’t tell Nola,” Keifer said. He wanted to surprise her.

  “Not a word.” The two promised and went to find Nola.

  TWENTY

  NO MATTER WHAT KEIFER SAID, Nola wasn’t leaving. Whatever the future held, she was determined to face it at Keifer’s side. Nothing he could say would change her mind.

  Now to convince him.

  He answered her tentative knock with a gruff “Enter.”

  Nola opened the door and stepped inside, peering at an empty bed. She raced around the foot of the bed, afraid she would find he’d fallen out and lay helpless on the floor.

  But Keifer wasn’t there, and panic surged through her. She spun about, searching the room until she saw him, seated in a chair, dressed and looking handsome and whole, if somewhat pale. This must be what Owyn and Will had been grinning about when they came to deliver Keifer’s summons. And aye, what a wonderful sight!

  Nola stared until he indicated she should sit in the chair across from him. She walked to him and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. This once she would be an obedient wife, her impulse to just shake good sense into him firmly under control. There were bigger battles to come.

  “You look well, Keifer.”
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  “As do you, Nola.”

  While Nola’s hands remained in her lap, Keifer’s fingers drummed on the arms of his chair. So, he was nervous, too. To see them thus, no one would believe they had been friends for half their lives.

  Nola felt her control slipping and bit the inside of her cheek to keep her tongue silent. Finally she lost the battle. “Owyn gave me your treasure box.”

  He tilted his head, his expression puzzled. “He did? What for?”

  “I think he knew that when I saw what was in the box, I wouldn’t leave you.”

  He looked at her, clearly not knowing what she was talking about.

  She held out her hand, palm down. “Here.”

  Keifer reached out his hand, and Nola laid the bracelet in his palm. He stared at the braid, shook his head. “Owyn.”

  “What?”

  “How could I have doubted him?” he whispered. He picked up the favor she had given to him years ago. “Owyn must have put this in the box after I cut it off my wrist before my knighting ceremony.”

  “You cut it off?” Maybe Keifer had never loved her after all!

  “Aye. I thought you were going to marry Will, and I was angry. I cut it off and threw it atop my clothes. But Owyn . . . I owe him an apology for ever doubting his loyalty.”

  “And what of me, Keifer?”

  Keifer stared at her, and she saw love and longing in his expression.

  “I’m sorry—” she began.

  “I shouldn’t have—” he said at the same time.

  They grinned at each other.

  He lifted his hand to Nola, and she bent forward and took it between her own. But she needed to be closer, much closer, so she inched her chair forward until their knees were touching.

  Keifer drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. “I should not have sent you away.”

  “No. You should not have. But as you can see, it didn’t do any good. I’m still here.”

  He laughed and held fast to her hand. “I love you, Nola. God knows I don’t deserve you or your love after the way I’ve been acting.

  I don’t know what God has in store, what the future holds. I only know that I don’t want to face it without you.”

  “That was never in question. I’m not going to desert you, not ever.”