After a late but substantial breakfast, they set out again. They rode for several hours with Faolan stopping twice to survey the countryside and once to hunt. Colleen tried hard not to think about the lifeless rabbits that hung tied to the saddle. She had nearly dozed off when Faolan suddenly wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly.
“Och, darlin’…” he murmured, nuzzling her neck playfully.
Startled, Colleen shielded her eyes to look up at him. “What did I do?” she gasped.
“Ye saved my miserable life, is all,” he said. “’Tis thankin’ ye I am for pulling the elfbolts out. I guess I should be grateful that you’d been reading those books and all, but…” he bit his lip, obviously uncertain how to proceed.
“But?” Colleen asked, curious.
Faolan shrugged and grunted noncommittally. “It’s just that…I was wondering…did ye know that there…em…”
“Spit it out,” Colleen giggled. “Did I know what?”
“I’m obliged to ye that ye learned to treat a battle wound from reading them, but….well,…did ye know they talk about the men and women…” his voice dropped to a scandalized whisper. “coupling? In great detail, too, no less.”
Unable to stop herself, Colleen doubled over in a shriek of laughter. “Coupling? Say it isn’t so,” she gasped and would have fallen off had Faolan not tightened his grip. Unamused by the sudden disturbance, the horse danced sideways and flattened his ears back in displeasure.
Faolan tightened his grip on the reins and clucked his tongue to sooth the animal. “Aye, ’tis so,” he assured her. “Never in my life have I read such accounts of sheer wantonness, heaving this and wet that. Gave me a right fierce cockstand, I can tell ye, and ye nowhere to be found. Most unobliging, I must say, leaving yer man in such a state.” He looked down at her and smiled. “Of course, that was back when ye were locking yer door against me, protecting yer virtue.”
Colleen leaned back against his broad chest. “We wasted so much time.” She sighed.
“Och, well,” Faolan chuckled, dropping a soft kiss on the top of her head. “We’re together now. I waited lifetimes for you, mo chridhe. A day or two more made little difference.”
When it became apparent that the horse was growing tired, he slowed and stopped next to a large field upon which grazed two sturdy horses along with a half dozen sheep, their unshaven wooly coats making them appear to be fat round cotton balls trundling about on tiny hooves. “I’m going to stop at this farmhouse and ask if the owner would consider selling one of his horses,” Faolan spoke low next to her ear. “A word of caution, Princess. These are simple folk and likely very superstitious, so no talk of faeries or druids. We’re naught more than simple travelers, got it?”
He skirted the edge of the pasture, walking the horse up to the ramshackle gray stone farmhouse perched on the edge of a rolling green hill. Two small, dirty children wearing white linen tunics played around the stoop and set up a yammering call of alarm at the sight of the strangers approaching.
The woman of the house appeared at once, wiping her hands on the worn apron of her gown, only slightly cleaner than the children’s. “What is it yer wantin’?” she called warily. “We’ve naught much to offer noble folk like ye.” She appeared at first to be middle aged, but on closer inspection, Colleen realized the woman probably wasn’t much older than herself. Slight of frame with a ruddy complexion, her carrot red hair rested in a messy bun at the nape of her neck.
Faolan placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head. “We would speak with the gentleman of the house, mistress, if he be available.”
“Sean! There’s a big Scot here to see ye,” the woman bellowed over her shoulder with a ferocity that belied her small stature. Faolan and Colleen both jumped and even the children scuttled to the side of the house. “Far from home, ain’t ye?” she asked Faolan before turning a critical eye to Colleen. “Are ye Scot too?”
After looking to Faolan for reassurance, Colleen answered, “No, ma’am. My home is…farther away.”
“English,” the woman sniffed. “My man’ll be up in a moment. I’m Mairead O’Minogue, by the by. Sean,” she screamed again.
Two red haired boys looking to be in their early teens walked around the corner of the cottage, followed by a short, thin man who walked with a pronounced limp. “Christ above us, Mairead, ye’ll scream them deaf,” he scolded. He sized up both visitors and nodded in deference to Faolan. “Sean O’Minogue, at yer service, milord.”
“I’m no lord, sir.” Faolan smiled, “I merely wished to inquire after one of yer horses.” Sean turned and headed for the pasture, waving for Faolan to join him on the dirt path. Behave yerself, Princess, he mouthed to Colleen. She promptly smiled then crossed her eyes at him. With a chuckle, he turned and followed behind the man, the two gangly youths trailing a few paces after them.
Colleen turned to see the woman had already disappeared back inside the house. Almost in a snit at having been forgotten, she sat down on a large rock and took the opportunity to rest and stretch. At the sound of a furtive whisper, she glanced around to see the two youngsters huddled next to the stoop, staring at her through wide eyes. She smiled and waved. Gradually they eased out of their hiding place and moved to sit next to her on the ground. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Colleen.”
The two children looked askance at each other before the braver of the two spoke. “I’m Dónal, I’m eight,” he said, “and ‘is here’s me sister Maire, she’s seven.” He nodded toward the path where the men had gone. “Them other two’s our brothers Padraig and Liam. Our baby sister Shauna’s in the house.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Colleen said solemnly, shaking each child’s hand.
“Are ye a real princess? That man called ye one,” Maire said, pointing to the path where Faolan and the men had disappeared.
“He always says silly things like that,” Colleen whispered in a conspiratorial voice. “He even calls me Blossom. Now really, do I look like a flower to you?” She made a face and stuck out her tongue.
Both children collapsed into giggles at that. Colleen smiled into the bright faces covered in freckles. “You both must have been beautiful babies to have so many faery marks.”
Dónal puffed his small chest out with masculine pride. “I’m a boy and boys ain’t beautiful,” he protested.
Maire nodded in agreement. “They’s all rough and tumble, always getting hurt,” she said. To emphasize that statement, the little girl grabbed the hem of Dónal’s tunic and lifted it to show an ugly gash on the side of the little boy’s thigh.
Colleen gasped. The gaping wound was about four inches long, and definitely would have needed stitches several days before. It was festering, the edges of the cut red and angry with infection. Colleen thought fast and leapt to her feet. “Do you have water and soap?” she asked. “Bring them to me.” For the first time in her adult life, she was proud of all the work she did earning her Girl Scout badge in first aid.
The little girl dashed off to do her bidding and came back moments later with a bowl of water, soap, a clean rag and her mother in tow. “What’re ye about with my boy?” Mairead demanded, drying her hands on her apron.
“This wound has to be cleaned; it’s infected and it will make him very sick.” Colleen said, kneeling down next to the frightened boy. “It will sting for a minute, but we’ve got to get the poison out,” she soothed. His sister dropped down on his other side and held his hand.
Mairead sank to her knees next to Colleen. “I wash it every single day, but the poison keeps coming,” the mother fretted. “I’m afraid he’s going to lose his leg, and then where will he be without it? My poor lad…”
Colleen shook her head as an idea came to her. “We can fix this,” she assured her, and handed her the rag. “Clean out as much of the pus as you can, I’ll be right back.” She jumped up and ran to their horse, yanking open a saddlebag and fumbling around with one hand. Finding her rolled up jeans, she felt around i
n the back pocket until her fingers closed around the tube of antiseptic ointment. With a triumphant cry, she ran back to the huddled woman and children.
“This will help with the infection,” Colleen said, smearing it in and on the cut. “It’ll need wrapping to keep the medicine on.” At once, Mairead jumped up and ran inside, coming back out a moment later with a clean strip of linen to bind the cut. Colleen wrapped it around the leg, pulling it tight to close the wound. “Here,” she said, handing the tube to Mairead. “Put this on him once in the morning, once at night. If you keep the wound clean and use this, it might get rid of the infection and save his leg.”
Mairead’s face was bloodless as she took the strange orange tube and looked at it curiously. She pulled on the cap until Colleen showed her how to twist it on and off, and her face lit up. “Thank ye, milady,” she said, her voice quiet. “What can we do to repay ye?”
Colleen waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m just happy I could help, Mairead,” she said.
A shout from the path let the women know the men were on their way back, leading the larger of the two horses from the pasture by a rope bridle. Colleen shielded her eyes against the sun and sighed. Faolan walked next to the farmer on the path, tall and straight and looking every inch the nobleman she knew he was. He spied her sitting on the ground with the woman and children and his whole face lit up with a happy smile. Her chest tightened, her heart full and near to bursting out of love for him.
Colleen gave Faolan a bright grin of her own as he tipped an imaginary cap to her. “Been getting into mischief, Blossom?” he asked. Colleen cast a knowing glance to the children and all three giggled conspiratorially.
“Nay, milord,” Mairead said, scrambling to her feet. “Yer lady has healing hands. She took care of my Dónal’s leg and gave me a salve to put it to rights.”
A slow smile curved Faolan’s lips. “She does indeed have a gentle touch, my lady does.” He offered his hand, and Colleen slipped her smaller one in his as she rose to her feet.
Mairead gave the couple a long look, brushing bits of dried grass from her skirt. “Well, come on with ye. Ye both look like ye could use a bite to eat,” she said, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice.
“We couldn’t–” Colleen began, but stopped after a light warning squeeze from Faolan.
“We would be honored,” Faolan interrupted with a polite nod. “Thank ye most kindly, Mistress O’Minogue. In fact,” he said, stepping over to their saddled horse and untying the rabbits, “allow us to gift ye with these. In meager payment for our dinner, of course.”
A smile of relief spread across the woman’s face. “It’ll be a pleasure, milord,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsey in thanks. She took the game and gestured to the older boys. “Liam, Padraig, go dress these conies for stew.” With happy grins of anticipation, the two boys disappeared around the back of their home with the rabbits.
A low rumble of thunder shook the ground, and Sean cast an uneasy glance at the dark clouds billowing to the west. “Storm’s coming,” he muttered. “Ye folks are welcome to bide a wee ‘til it blows over.” With a sweep of his hand, he shooed everyone inside just as the first heavy raindrop fell. He led both horses to an overhang under the thatched roof where they would be sheltered from the rain before joining the rest inside.
Stepping over the threshold of the cottage was like stepping into another world. It was larger than it looked from the outside, with a large room that held a fireplace big enough to walk inside and stand up in on the outside wall. Oilskins were rolled up over the open windows and fragrant rushes cushioned the floor. The furnishings were sparse. Handmade benches and a coarse wood table made up what was obviously a dining area and a rocking chair sat next to the fireplace where several pairs of shapeless socks hung drying.
There were two other rooms, each containing one wide bed with fat feather ticks sprawled atop their wooden frames. They all share the same beds, Colleen realized, wondering where on earth the couple managed to find enough privacy to have all these children.
Mairead waved for Faolan and Colleen to be seated at the table. “It’ll be only a moment or two,” she said, giving them a big smile. “Would ye be wanting a drink while yer waiting? We’ve no wine to speak of, but we do have a well. Sweetest water in all of Eire, it is.”
“That would be–” Faolan stopped abruptly and cocked his head to listen. “What’s that sound?” he asked, his voice soft.
Colleen listened. “I didn’t hear–” But then the quiet sound came again, a dusty rattle that lasted only a moment before falling silent.
“That be our sister Shawna,” little Maire murmured, taking hold of her mother’s full skirt. “She’s real sick. Mama says she’s going to be an angel soon, ain’t she, Mama?”
Mairead put her hand to her heart and closed her eyes to halt the flow of tears that threatened to spill out onto her cheeks. “Mayhap, sweetling,” she whispered, stroking the child’s soft blond hair.
Colleen took Faolan’s hand and they stared into each other’s eyes, locked in silent conversation. After a moment, he nodded resolutely and stood. “Bring me the child,” he ordered.
Sean shook his head. “She’s got the fever, milord. Been burning with it for three days now. The sickness’s settled down into her chest. There’s naught left to do for her but put it in the hands of the Almighty–”
“Bring me the child,” Faolan repeated in that formidable voice that left the distraught father powerless to resist. He bolted from the room, returning moments later with what appeared to be a limp pile of rags.
“She’s resting now, poor wee thing,” Sean said, handing over the small bundle.
Faolan pulled back the swaddling to reveal a small flushed face, eyes clenched shut. The tiny rosebud mouth parted as she struggled for air. Her chest rattled like the sound of dry autumn leaves being crushed underfoot with each labored breath. Mairead gathered the other children around her and huddled next to the fireplace. Sean joined his family and stood braced for the worst, his arms folded across his chest.
Faolan gazed at the child with a tender expression, brushing the wisps of strawberry blond hair away from her face. He glanced up to find the family staring at him with huge saucer eyes. “Doona be afraid,” he assured them with a tight smile. He took his seat and began peeling away the layers of thin woolen blankets. Colleen rose to stand behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders in an unspoken gesture of support.
Mairead moved forward with a protest on her lips, but Sean raised his arm to stop her. “Leave it be, Mother,” he whispered. He made a hasty sign of the cross then turned a resigned but hopeful face to his visitors. “If ye have the old magic, my lord, do ye use it now.”
All his attention focused on the baby, Faolan held her to his chest and began to sing very softly into the tiny, shell like ear. Colleen smiled at the memory of hearing that same healing song, her broken face and heart cradled in his large hands as they rode through that first dark and terrifying night.
As the storm raged outside, Faolan crooned to the baby in that strange language. A quarter of an hour passed unnoticed while everyone in the room watched in rapt fascination. When at last he fell silent, there was a collective sigh, everyone having been holding their breath for fear of breaking the spell. “Mistress O’Minogue?” Faolan whispered, holding the sleeping child out to her mother, her tiny face now pink and smooth. “She’ll rest now. I believe she’ll be fine by the morrow.” As if in agreement, the infant yawned, smacked her lips and gave a soft coo of contentment.
Mairead gathered the child in her arms and disappeared into the bedroom. Upon returning, she took one look at their visitors and burst into joyful tears. Sean enfolded her in his arms, giving Faolan a grateful glance. “We’re much obliged for yer kindness, milord,” he nodded, moving away to comfort his sobbing wife.
Colleen slipped her own arms around Faolan’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered next to his ear.
He wrapped his arms tig
ht around her and pulled her close, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Would that I could have done that for my own,” he murmured back.
After the meal, the storm moved off to the east and the sun began to peek out from behind fast disappearing clouds. With genuine regret, Faolan and Colleen began to make their goodbyes. The younger children went outside to look for rainbows, Dónal leaning on Maire as he hobbled gingerly on his wounded leg. The two older boys ran to get the horses while the adults lingered inside.
“Here,” Mairead said, pressing a wrapped bundle into Colleen’s hands, “ye’ll be hungry later for certain. ’Tis not much, but take it with our blessings.”
Murmuring under his breath, Faolan reached inside his leather sporran and pulled out a large fistful of shiny gold coins. He dropped them on the table then repeated the gesture three more times. The O’Minogues looked on, speechless with astonishment.
“These children need milk,” Faolan ordered. “Buy yerself a milking cow or two and chickens, seed, clothing and whatever else ye need. Keep the horse we rode here. He’ll be a worthy mount once he’s rested up a bit. Use whatever remains of the coin as dowry for yer daughters to assure a good match.”
The couple’s eyes widened in amazement at the large pile of gold, more money than either of them would ever have seen in their lifetimes. “Milord, we could not possibly…” Sean whispered.
Faolan cut him off with a curt wave. “Ye can and ye will,” he said. With a warm smile, he offered Colleen his arm. “Are ye ready to ride out, my love?”
Colleen gave him a sweet smile in return, her eyes full of love. “Wither thou goest, there goest I,” she said, tucking her hand in the crook of his proffered elbow.
Mairead gave a sudden gasp of horror. Before either could ask, she blurted out, “I wasn’t going to say anything, she bade not to speak of it…but I have to tell ye, milord….there was a grand lady as came by a day ago while I was out in the far pasture pickin’ berries for dinner, asking if I had seen a couple of travelers.” Her voice dropped to a cautious whisper. “She had an odd air about her; her eyes weren’t right. I’m thinkin’ she was one of the Daoine Sidhe.”
Rogue on the Rollaway Page 21
