“’Tis late, lass,” he replied as he sprawled out on the blanket. “Sleep. Ye’re goin’ to need it.”
Undeterred, she sat down beside him.
“I just want to thank ye for what you did earlier today.” The memory of the man lying dead on the ground turned her skin to gooseflesh. Shivering, she drew her legs up to her chest.
Graham grunted, tossed an arm over his eyes, and pretended sleep.
“Why did ye change yer mind?” For inexplicable reasons, she needed to know. The question had been gnawing at her for hours.
“It is nae important,” he drawled. “Go to sleep.”
“But—”
“I want an annulment,” he replied. “I cannae get that unless I get ye to yer clan.”
While his answer made all the sense in the world, it still stung. ’Twasn’t necessarily what he said, but the tone in which he said it that hurt. Harsh, rebuking, and frustrated.
Mayhap he be just as tired and worn out as I am, she told herself. Believing an argument at this hour would do far more harm than good, she decided to leave it rest. She let out an un-ladylike groan when she got to her feet. Pausing at the entrance to the tent, she took one more glance at the Highlander. “No matter yer reasons, I be glad ye’re here.”
Although she was bone tired, Leelah found it difficult to fall asleep, for her mind simply wouldn’t turn off. In two weeks, mayhap three, she would finally be reunited with her kin. Oh, how she had missed her mother, father, brothers and sister. It had been more than a decade since last she’d seen them and more than two years since she’d last heard from them.
Quietly, she prayed that no news was good news. If something seriously wrong had happened to her family, she would have heard about it by now, wouldn’t she? The last letter she had received was from her sister, Deirdre. All seemed well then. Deirdre had just given birth to her second child, another boy they had named William.
Our parents are in fine health, she had written. Our crops are plentiful and we are all thriving.
But nothing since.
There had been no replies to the letters she had sent to them. Though in truth, she hadn’t written to them since John’s death. There had been no time, and she had been filled with too much shame since Gerold moved to the farm.
One would think she would have received a reply from at least one member of her family expressing their sorrow at the passing of her husband.
Please, God, let them all be well.
When she wasn’t thinking of her family, she was thinking of Graham.
It had been one surprise after another since dawn. First, Gerold had come to her with the news that he had lost her to a man in a game of bones. Her arms were still tender from where Gerold had grabbed her and tossed her across the room. He’d been angry because she had expressed her displeasure, informing him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t chattel and couldn’t be purchased or sold, let alone used as collateral on a wager.
But when he mentioned the man was a Keith, her hope soared, and she quickly changed her mind. A Keith! A Keith will get ye back to yer family, she had thought.
However, Graham Keith wasn’t the same man she remembered, and he most certainly didn’t act like any of the Keiths she had ever known.
Gone was the playful demeanor and mischievous smile she had found so endearing as a lass. Gone was the strength, the righteous manner, and powerful sense of right versus wrong.
Or so she had thought until he killed her attacker just a few short hours ago.
Was there hope that somewhere, hiding under that bleary eyed, impatient, and rough exterior was a sliver of the man he used to be? She could only pray there was.
6
Three days of sobriety was enough to drive any average man to the brink of insanity.
Three days of sobriety combined with four children, a cantankerous donkey, and one very lovely woman, and Graham was ready to find the nearest monastery and devote his life to priesthood. Just to be away from them.
’Twas hell on earth.
They camped out of doors each night, with Leelah and her children safely ensconced within the tent. While they all slept as peacefully as birds in a nest, Graham froze his bloody arse off, sleeping on the cold, hard earth. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his dreams were plagued with images of Leelah. Beautiful, soft, warm she was, and very willing to satisfy his carnal desires. He woke each morn, freezing, but with sweat covering his brow, and his groin aching with need.
She was beyond lovely. She was also witty, intelligent, and kind. No matter how gruff his manner, no matter how much he cursed at the donkey, the weather, and the lack of good food, she maintained her stoicism. With great aplomb, she kept reminding her children—but Graham knew ’twas he she was actually directing her comments to—that they needed to be grateful for what they did have.
“We have each other,” she told the children repeatedly. “That be all that matters. And once we get to my homeland, we will be safe and warm and protected.”
Just once, just once he wished she would lose her temper, cry, or otherwise behave in a manner that would give him a good reason to leave. But she didn’t. He didn’t know which was more irritating. That she could smile no matter how dire their circumstances or that she hadn’t lost her composure.
They’d made so little progress in their journey north, Graham was tempted to toss the lead rope to Leelah and hie off in the opposite direction. The children were tired, worn out, dirty, cranky, and hungry. Graham was in a similar state of distress.
They were trodding carefully across a wide stream, no deeper than a man’s ankle. Graham was having a silent, inner battle between contemplating suicide, priesthood, or deserting this family in need.
“Graham!” Leelah called out.
Shaken from his quiet misery, he spun around to see the handcart was stuck on a rather large rock. Leelah was pulling hard on the donkey’s reins, trying to get him to move forward.
“Wait!” Graham called, but ’twas too late. The donkey surged forward, pulling the cart hard against the rock. The wheel creaked and groaned before snapping from the axle.
Bloody hell.
Leelah and her children were sitting quietly on a blanket as they watched Graham work to repair the wheel. An hour earlier, she had quietly helped him move the cart out of the creek. Graham had lost his footing, fallen into the cold water, and scraped his knee on a rock. He’d cursed the cart to the devil, before he remembered he was in the presence of small children.
The cart now sat along the bank, lopsided and broken.
Graham was feeling very much like the cart looked.
“’Tis just a simple pin,” he said to himself as he carved on a bit of hard wood he’d found in the woods. He’d applied too much pressure and broken the end off. “A simple pin! Why in the name of Christ can I nae get it right?”
Thus far, he had made seven unsuccessful attempts to replicate the small pin he needed to affix the wheel to the axle. ’Twas either too big, too long, too small, or, as it had just done, broke off in his hands.
Sweat poured off his brow.
His knee throbbed in time to his beating heart.
His fingers stung from a hundred tiny cuts. I was never good at carpentry, he cursed to himself. The only thing I was ever good at was drinkin’.
He tossed the broken wood to the ground and looked up at Leelah and her children.
All, save for the bairn who was fast asleep on her lap, were staring at him. And every one of them looked as though they were holding their breath, waiting for him to explode. Even the bloody donkey looked fearful.
He felt like an arse.
The donkey had more class and tact than he.
If he’d learned anything these past three days, it was that Leelah and her children had been living a hell of their own. And for far longer than Graham. There’d been no need to ask why they were all so afraid. Leelah had told him as much as he needed to know about Gerold MacDonald the day they had been ‘wed�
��.
Now, here Graham was, acting like a petulant child, behaving no better than Gerold, he supposed. The only thing he hadn’t done was lash out physically. An angry tongue can hurt and cut as deeply as a knife. How many times had his mother told him that?
Taking in a deep breath, he hung his head in shame. “I be sorry.”
He said not another word as he quietly stepped away. He needed time alone to get his temper under control.
Leelah watched as Graham walked away.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Jamie whispered, “He has a mighty temper, aye?”
Smoothing down her son’s dark hair, she nodded in agreement. “Aye, he does. But not once has he yelled at any of us.”
Jamie tilted his head, looking confused.
Leelah smiled affectionately at her children. “Ye notice he yells at things, nae us.”
“But he still yells,” Vonda offered up.
“Aye, but ’tis out of frustration,” Leelah explained. “When things are goin’ smoothly, he is quite kind. Nae once in these past few days has he groused about all the talkin’ ye do. Nor has he complained when we have to stop to change John’s nappy.”
Her children fell silent as they contemplated what their mother was saying.
“And have ye noticed he makes certain we eat before he even thinks to take so much as a nibble from a bannock?”
Leelah spoke nothing but the truth. How much had the man sacrificed in order to see her children safely back to her clan? How much coin had he spent on the horses and supplies?
Aye, Graham had a temper, but he was as dangerous as a basket of sleeping kittens in comparison to Gerold. There was also the fact that he’d spent the last decade living a life of drunken debauchery. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t had a drop to drink in days. Certainly, that had to play into his grouchy mood.
“He sleeps on the cold ground each night,” Vonda pointed out. “That cannae be comfortable.”
“I suspect it is nae,” Leelah agreed, giving her daughter an affectionate hug.
“But still, he yells,” Vonda added again.
“At least he does nae hit,” Jamie said.
Leelah knew Graham Keith would never physically harm her or her children. “In my heart, I truly believe he would never hit nor hurt any of us,” she told them. At least not intentionally.
Three sets of doubtful eyes stared up at her.
“He is nothin’ like yer uncle.”
Graham could hear every word that was said betwixt Leelah and her children. He was standing just a few feet away, hidden in the trees like one of the king’s spies.
At least he does nae hit.
A crack the size of the ocean formed in his heart.
As much as he wanted to reassure them he would never raise a hand in anger, he couldn’t. As soon as he got Leelah and her children to her clan, he would resume his previous life of drunkenness and debauchery.
Why didn’t the thought of returning to his previous life bring him any amount of pleasure? Getting them back to her clan and immediately leaving had consumed nearly every waking minute for the past few days. What had changed?
Instead of looking forward to going back, he felt sick at heart.
He had to admit, he did like Leelah. There wasn’t a damned thing about her not to like.
And her children, while irritating, were not so bad.
Nay, nay, nay! He cursed his traitorous heart. Ye do nae deserve the kind of life ye are tempted to dream about.
Graham had made too many mistakes over the years to ever believe, even for a tiny moment, he deserved anything better.
However, he could, for at least a little while, watch his tongue and temper. There was no sense in terrifying these children any further. They’d been through enough in the past year, what with losing their father and whatever hell their uncle had put them through. ’Twas not their fault they were in this predicament.
Until he got Leelah and her children to her clan, he was going to be every bit the man he used to be. Even if it killed him.
Not wishing to hear anything else, for he was already at great risk of losing his heart, he stepped from behind the tree. “I am goin’ to make one more attempt at fixing the cart,” he said as he walked past Leelah and the children and headed for the cart. “But if I cannae fix it, I fear we will have to leave it behind.” He was doing his best to sound indifferent, even cheerful, but he worried he fell horribly short of his goal.
With another piece of wood in hand, he began the task of carving once again. All the while he forced a smile, biting his tongue to keep from cursing or otherwise doing anything to upset the children.
Just when he thought he had mastered the art of carving, the end of the peg snapped and broke off in his hands. ’Twas enough to make a grown man weep.
Taking in a deep breath, once again forcing himself to remember his earlier silent promise, he tossed the wood to the ground. “I cannae—” He stopped when he saw Jamie standing a few steps away.
“Mayhap this might work,” the boy said as he handed Graham a perfectly carved peg.
’Tis probably too small, he mused. Or too big. ’Twill never work. He’s just a lad, and he only wants to help. With a smile, he patted the boy on his head and said, “Well, let us see, shall we?”
Leelah had to bite her tongue hard to keep from laughing.
Graham, to his credit, was doing his best to control his temper. She had known all along he’d been standing behind them moments ago and heard the conversation between she and her children. ’Twas one of the main reasons she’d said what she had. Fearful of telling him to mind his tongue and temper in front of her children, she had remained silent for the past three days. Knowing full well she would be unable to get to her homeland without Graham’s help. Oh, she believed every word she told her children. She simply couldn’t say them to Graham.
But when Jamie’s peg fit, the look of complete astonishment that washed over Graham’s face nearly did her in. ’Twas all she could do not to laugh at his surprise or smile at Jamie’s pride.
For the longest while, Graham sat in stunned silence, staring at the now repaired wheel, as if it were one of life’s greatest mysteries.
“It worked!” Jamie exclaimed proudly, beaming at his mother, then at Graham.
The silence stretched on to the point Leelah was beginning to worry.
“Aye, lad, it did,” Graham finally responded. “A right good job ye did, too.”
’Twas the first compliment from a man her son had received since his father’s death. They were simple words, spoken softly and with a hint of pride. But they were more valuable than gold to Leelah’s heart.
She felt it then, in that wee moment of time. A discernible shift. Much like when you know autumn is gone and winter has well and duly set in.
All her fear and trepidation evaporated and, for the first time in a very long while, she felt happy. No longer would she fear for herself or her children. Graham Keith was going to see them safely home. He wasn’t going to get fed up with them and abandon them to their own fate.
’Twas something in how he spoke to Jamie that changed everything. Gone was the drunkard she had found back at the inn. There, in the inn, she believed him to be a shadow of his former self, no longer the man she remembered from her youth.
He may nae be the Graham Keith ye remember, she mused quietly. But he be the Graham Keith ye need.
7
Graham was forced to admit the change in his attitude made time spent with the little MacDonald family far more bearable. He was no longer likening the wee beasties to irritating boils on his backside. Graham was actually beginning to like them.
The last few days had been rather pleasant.
Jamie, Graham finally figured out, wasn’t necessarily afraid of his own shadow. The boy was simply quiet, and he watched over his mother and siblings with all the fervor of a religious zealot. Whenever they took a break in riding, Jamie kept his siblings together and under his const
ant supervision. Do nae go there, Marra! Those be bramble bushes. Watch where ye be goin’, Vonda. Ye’ll trip. Leelah would often remind Jamie he was their brother, not their father.
Vonda, while she chattered as much as robins in a tree, was also quite curious about the world around her. He no longer groaned inwardly with her constant questions. How can fish live in the water? How were the mountains made? Why is grass green?
Instead, he answered them as best he could. However, when he was unable to answer one of her endless questions, Graham would either lie or tell her to ask her mother.
Little Marra was adorable—when she wasn’t threatening to scream every time Graham drew near. She looked up to her older brother much the same way Graham’s younger sisters had looked up to him. When Marra was tired or afraid, she wanted Jamie. When she wanted to play, she went to Vonda. When she was hurt, she would scream for her mum. Graham sincerely hoped that before their journey ended, they could at the very least come to an amicable truce.
Then there was little John. A fourteen-month-old cherubic little lad. For reasons Graham couldn’t fathom, the bairn had taken a strong liking to him. So much so, that Graham often found himself bouncing the lad on his knee or tossing him onto his shoulders, pretending to gallop like a horse. To which each of the other children would squeal “my turn!” Save for Marra. She still wanted nothing at all to do with him.
Yet they were turning into quite the happy little family.
And it scared Graham witless when he took the time to think about it.
The drunken lecher that had taken hold of his life years ago argued with the righteous, honorable man he’d once been. Do ye truly wish to give up yer freedom? The lecher in him asked. And for what? For a bonny woman with four children? And how will ye take care of them? By gamblin’? Nay, Graham, that is nae the life for ye.
While his heart wished for something more in his life, it also knew the best thing he could do was to push any thoughts of a happy entanglement with Leelah aside. He liked her a great deal. So much so that he knew the best thing for her was returning to her clan to live out her days and find a man who could give her far more than Graham could ever hope to.
With Love from the Highlands : A Highlander Love Story Duet, One Page 22
