“I want only to go home,” she told him. “Back to Clan Hay.”
She might as well have asked him to take her straight to hell. The affect was the same. Bile rose in the back of his throat, his palms grew sweaty, and his heart skipped a few beats.
“Nae for ye, nor God, nor country.”
That was it then.
He wasn’t going to help her.
There was nothing of the Graham Keith she remembered in the shell of a man standing before her. He was a shadow of his former self.
Anger, which started as naught more than a gentle wave of displeasure, grew and intensified. Tamping back the urge to give him a piece of her mind, she simply shook her head in disgust.
“Verra well,” she said, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “I shall get there myself.”
Just when and where she found the courage to make such a declaration, she did not know.
’Tis as it has been since John died; ye can count only on yerself.
Without uttering another word, Leelah turned on her heels and quit the room.
3
It had taken her less than an hour to procure a handcart, a sack of flour, and other sundries. Every sillar to her name was now carefully packed into that handcart.
Leelah was going to take her children back to her people if it was the last thing she did.
Come hell or high water, she’d do it or die trying.
Looking into the eyes of her four sweet children was difficult. Jamie, a once curious, vibrant little boy, was now afraid of nearly everything. They owed that change to no one but Gerold. The heartless coward took great pleasure in tormenting all of her children. Jaimie was all of nine-years-old now and while he looked the spitting image of his father, ’twas where the resemblance ended. John had been a proud and brave man. Jaimie was just a little boy filled with uncertainty and fear. All she could do was pray that the last year hadn’t left unseen scars he would take into adulthood.
Vonda, her six-year-old daughter, had fared better. She still possessed the curiosity that only a child could. There was also no argument she would back away from.
There was still hope for four-year-old Marra. Of all her children, Marra was most like her: stubborn and invincible.
Little John, named after his father, was born a few weeks before Leelah’s husband died. He too, looked just like his father, with little wisps of blond hair and deep blue eyes. She doubted he would ever remember the last year of hardships.
With the two youngest children in the cart and Jamie and Vonda at her sides, the little family left the small village and headed north.
“How long will it take us?” Jamie asked as they walked down the dirt path that would lead them out of town.
Honestly, she didn’t have any clear idea. If Graham Keith had agreed to help …
“I dunnae ken,” she replied honestly, but with a hopeful tone. “A week or two, I suspect.”
Worry etched across the little boy’s brow. “But where will we sleep?”
Attempting to sound cheerful and make the road ahead sound far more pleasing, Leelah smiled warmly. “We will be sleeping out of doors like warriors,” she said. “’Twill be a grand adventure.”
“What if we see a bear?” Vonda asked.
Leelah couldn’t very well say, I dunnae ken because I hadn’t thought of that. “Then Jamie will kill him with the dirk.”
The only weapon she owned was the small dirk she kept tucked into the belt at her waist. Although she was dubious the dirk could do much damage to anything as large as a bear, her children seemed appeased by the idea.
Cumbersome and heavy, the cart creaked and rattled as they made their way down the path and out of town.
Leelah refused to look back. It hurt too much to think about the three men she was leaving behind. One was dead, buried in a peaceful place under an old rowan tree on the farm she had called home for more than a decade. The second was his brother, the man who had made her life a living hell for the past year.
The third was naught but a living, breathing ghost of sorts. The one who could have helped her if he wasn’t such a drunken wretch.
North and east. That was her future. She could only pray she and her children could survive whatever lay ahead.
Wife.
Graham couldn’t get the word out of his mind.
And truth be told, he was having an even harder time wrenching it from his heart.
Leelah.
Wife.
Children.
Over and over again, the words tumbled through his heart like tiny pebbles down a mountainside. I need yer help. Even harder words to ignore. But ignore them he must.
He couldn’t go home. Couldn’t go anywhere near the place he had grown up, where he’d once felt loved and protected and safe. Unfortunately, the Hay holding and lands were north of his homeland.
Mayhap if she had nae been a Hay, he mused quietly. Splashing cold water on his face did little to dislodge those pestering words. He stared into the small looking glass affixed to the wall over the tiny basin. Ye look ten years older than ye are, he thought.
Empty. His eyes were devoid of anything that even remotely resembled the passion and hope he’d felt as a younger man.
Her eyes had been filled with hurt and hope, an odd combination.
Mayhap if she was nae a Hay, I could have helped her, he repeated the thought.
In order to get her home, he’d have to cross through Keith lands. There would be no way of accomplishing that feat unseen. His father kept their borders well-guarded with constant patrols. While they had many allies, there were still enemies who would love nothing more than to see Waldron Keith dead and to call his lands their own.
’Twould be impossible, he told himself as he stripped out of his filthy clothes.
There were few options in getting the lass and her children back to her family without crossing into Keith territory. One involved taking a ship the long way around the isle. The other would take weeks, if not more, and involved traversing as far north as possible, then traveling south. Neither seemed appealing or plausible, especially with such small children in tow.
Donning fresh tunic and trews, he pulled on his boots and went to stare out the window. I cannae even remember what village I be in, he cursed inwardly. “She is far better off without the likes of ye,” he whispered. “Ye be naught more than a drunk and a scoundrel.”
Aye, Leelah and her children were much better off without him. Safer even. Lord only knew what he’d be like were he to attempt sobriety. Worse yet, if he did take them, and that was still a huge if, God only knew what he would do or say to them whilst inebriated. “Nay!” he said firmly in an attempt to shake away the idea. “Nay!”
A few moments later, he realized he should never have looked out the window.
Bloody hell!
There she was.
Leelah, pulling a hand cart containing the smallest of her two children. The older two were walking on either side of her.
She was heading north out of town.
She is probably heading back to the farm she mentioned.
Even he couldn’t believe that argument.
Letting loose a litany of curses, he stuffed his meager belongings into his satchel and quit the room.
Graham told himself he was going to grab his horse from the livery and go in the exact opposite direction of Leelah MacDonald. And that is exactly what he would have done had he not made the mistake of asking the liveryman where she lived.
“East of here,” the tall, gangly older man said. “She calls it a farm, but most would beg to differ,” he said with a chuckle.
Graham didn’t hear most of the rest of what the man had to say. He was too busy arguing with all the voices rattling around in his head. Do what is right, he heard his father say, which was quickly followed by his mother’s sweet voice saying, Protect the innocent.
Bloody, bloody hell!
4
Looking up at the afternoon sk
y, Leelah tried to judge how long they had been travelling. An hour perhaps?
They had stopped twice now. Once to change John’s nappy and a second time simply because she needed the respite.
Already her hands were raw from the rough handles of the cart. While she was used to hard work, she wasn’t used to the drudgery of pulling a handcart like an ox pulling a plow.
Jamie and Vonda rarely veered more than a few steps from her side. Marra prattled on about all the pretty flowers they’d passed by, and John made several attempts to climb out of the cart.
This is nae as easy as it sounded a few hours ago, she mused.
Traveling over flat land was unchallenging. ’Twas pulling the cart up the hills that were slowly eating away at her generally good nature.
Covered in sweat, panting, ’twas all she could do to get to the top of what seemed like the hundredth hill. But she was furious and determined. A deadly combination in a woman.
I refuse to give up, she chanted over and over in her mind. I would rather die tryin’ to get home than go back to Gerold.
“Mum, my feet hurt,” Vonda proclaimed for the fifth time.
“My feet hurt as well,” Leelah replied curtly. To which she silently added and me hands, me legs, and back.
They crested another hill of seemingly endless hills. Leelah stopped abruptly. The downside was much steeper and rockier. At the bottom was a dense forest that stretched on for at least a mile in either direction. That forest would be a good place to sleep for the night. Whilst it was still early in the day, she was already worn out, as were her children.
Taking in a deep breath, she tried to think of the best way to make their descent. If she put all of the children into the cart, it would be too heavy to stop should she gain too much of a momentum.
Letting the three older children walk on their own was far too dangerous. Visions of her children tumbling down the rough hillside made her break out into a cold sweat.
Studying the landscape to her right then left didn’t offer any solutions. ’Twas the same steep, rocky terrain no matter the direction.
Jamie tugged on her skirt. “I can make it,” he said.
She knew he was afraid but doing his best to be brave.
“One at a time, I think,” she said, mimicking her son’s bravery. Crouching down, she took Vonda’s hands in hers. “I am goin’ to put John in the sling. Jamie and I are going to walk down first. Then I will come back for ye and yer sister.”
“But I am a big girl,” Vonda argued.
“I ken that,” Leelah said, doing her best to hide her frustration. At six, Vonda had already mastered the art of arguing. “That is why I need ye to stay here with Marra and the cart. I need ye to make certain the cart does nae move and that yer sister does nae get hurt.”
Convinced ’twas a rather large responsibility, Vonda nodded her head rapidly. “I will make certain.”
Relieved, for she really was far too tired to argue it further, Leelah grabbed the sling, tucked John safely within, and took Jamie’s hand.
Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Remember, Vonda. Do nae let the cart nor yer sister move.”
“I promise,” Vonda said in a most serious tone.
Leelah sent up a silent prayer before carefully beginning her descent down the hill.
Getting the Jamie and John to the bottom of the hill had been easy enough. ’Twas the climb back up that nearly did her in.
Vonda remained true to her promise and let neither the cart nor her sister move so much as an inch. Leelah didn’t take time to stop to rest; she wanted off this hill and to set up camp as soon as possible.
Down the hill they went, with Leelah leading the way. As proud as a roman soldier, Vonda kept hold of her sister’s hand, reminding her repeatedly not to hurry.
With all four children safely at the bottom of the hill, Leelah took only the smallest of respites. Although she was more than tempted to leave the cart where it sat, it was far too valuable to leave behind. ’Twasn’t just the cart, but the supplies it held within that she needed most.
With her hands on her knees, she took in several deep breaths. “Jamie, I need ye to make certain yer brother and sisters do nae wander away.”
With John struggling to be free of his older brother’s tight hold, Leelah said, “Let him down for just a moment. But do nae let him out of yer sight.”
Jamie set the boy down but held his hand. “I will watch them,” he told his mother in his most serious voice.
Leelah let out a heavy breath. One more trip up the hill and then ye can rest.
If only it had been that easy.
Ye are a fool, Graham cursed himself. A bloody fool.
He had spent nearly every last coin to his name on three new horses—two for riding, one to act as pack horse—and one very skittish donkey. He had also purchased bannocks, dried beef, berries, cheese, cider, a cooking pot, and whatever else he thought they could use for the long journey north.
They.
He hadn’t even caught up with Leelah and her brood and already he was thinking of them as a group. ’Tis dangerous ground upon which ye tread, Graham Keith. Verra dangerous indeed.
He’d spent years trying to forget his past. Trying to drink away memories, lessons, and values instilled in him since conception.
For the longest time he thought he’d been successful.
The she entered his life.
What was it about this beautiful lass that drew him out of his state of drunkenness to behave like the honorable warrior he had once been? They’d spent less than a quarter of an hour together, yet she had somehow managed to break through to those long-buried emotions.
The answer was in the question itself.
She was beautiful.
Graham had always had a weak spot for beautiful women. One in particular had been the beginning of his downward spiral into the life he’d been living. A beautiful woman whose heart he had broken, who later, in turn, had ended up breaking his own.
And now, here he was, traipsing across hill and glen going after one he knew absolutely nothing about. Well, almost nothing.
Leelah MacDonald was beautiful, and she was a woman in need. She had begged him for his help, had pleaded with him with those brilliant blue eyes.
He had turned her away, had turned all of them away. Just like he’d done with everyone else who had ever tried to get close to him.
Yet, the vision of her pulling a handcart filled with children from one side of Scotia to the other tugged at something deep inside. Something he’d believed was long dead: his heart.
Unable to dislodge the thought of her and her children all alone, trying to get back to the one thing he had been running from for years, had been his undoing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake it.
Added to that were images of all the things he knew could go wrong on such a journey. Dangerous terrain and rocky mountain passes would be difficult enough to traverse alone, let alone with small children. Add to that the unpredictable weather and the highwaymen who preyed on the innocent, and their survival would be by God’s own hand.
Perhaps this is my penance. He scoffed at the notion. “Nay, this be my punishment for all the wrong I have done over the years.” ’Twas the only thing that made sense or that he was man enough to admit to. Graham refused to believe it had anything to do with the honorable Highlander he once was.
With the belief this was nothing more than God punishing him, he felt much relieved. ’Twas better to believe ’twas God at work.
“It will be as easy as fallin’ off a horse whilst drunk,” he said, directing his comment to the black steed he rode. Giving the animal a gentle pat on the neck, he said, “How difficult could it be to see one woman and her passel of children to their homeland?”
He should have known better.
Leelah paused at the top of the hill to catch her breath. From here, the world seemed vast and peaceful. ’Twas a lie, of course, for her own little world had been anythin
g but peaceful for a very long while.
Her children played quietly at the bottom of the hill. If they had learned anything this past year, it was to remain quiet and diligent at all times. The good Lord only knew what would set their uncle, Gerold, into a tirade. Drunk or sober, it mattered not; he could lose his temper at the drop of a breadcrumb.
Shaking the memories of Gerold’s uncontrollable temper away, she decided to focus solely on her future. Home. All she wanted was to get her children to the safe and loving bosom of her family. Only there could she and her children be free again.
“Ye’ll get nothin’ done sittin’ here,” she whispered with a sigh.
She was just turning away from her children to take the handles of the cart when two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her off her feet.
Horror washed over Jamie as he watched the man take his mother away. For the longest moment, the lad was frozen in place, awash in fear and confusion.
’Twas instinct alone that propelled him to finally move.
“Vonda! Marra!” he called to his sisters. They were only a few steps away, picking tiny purple flowers, paying no attention to their surroundings. A moment later, they heard their mother screaming.
“What is wrong with mum?” Vonda asked as she slowly got to her feet.
“With me!” Jamie ordered in a shaking voice.
Quickly, Vonda grabbed her little sister’s hand as Jamie began ushering them into the woods with his protective arms pressing his younger brother against his chest. “What is happening?” Vonda asked.
Jamie didn’t need to look to know tears filled his young sister’s eyes. “I dunnae ken,” he answered. “But we must hide!”
As fast as they could, they ran. Over brush and bramble, Jamie led them into the forest until he found what he believed was a good place to hide. The remnants of a large tree hid an opening in a small berm. “In there,” Jamie said as he began pushing his sisters inside. He shoved John into Vonda’s arms. “Be quiet,” he whispered, his voice shaking almost as much as his hands.
With Love from the Highlands : A Highlander Love Story Duet, One Page 20
