Once Adair settled Netti in the healing room, she and Keila quietly spoke about Rory’s final resting place. They agreed on the shaded area beneath the trees, at the bend in the River Livet. He left Keila to attend to Netti and returned to the stable to help Moira prepare Rory’s body for burial.
‘What can I do to help, Moira?’ His quiet words mingled with the sound of trickling water as she squeezed excess moisture out of the cloth.
Moira’s determined amber gaze fixed on him over Rory’s body. ‘I have all I need and can see to Rory’s care.’ Adair heard her swallow. ‘Please.’ The pleading in the final word shot straight to his heart.
‘Of course.’ This was something she needed to do. Despite having heard Moira berate Rory for his teasing, there had never been malice in her tone and Adair believed Moira’s fondness for the old man ran deeper than she showed. ‘Let me know if I can help you in any way.’ Moira nodded and returned to her task. Adair retrieved the shovel from the cluster of implements in one corner and left the stable.
The sun had only reached its peak by the time Adair had finished digging the hole for Rory. How could so much hurt happen in only half a day? He’d removed his shirt in the heat and now waded into the river to wash the dirt from his skin and to feel something, anything.
The flowing water was cold and reminded him he was alive. Hearing Rory say if his son had survived he would want him to be like Adair filled his heart with pride and gratitude. Not knowing who his family were had always fed Adair’s self-doubt about his worth. But now, having met his sire, a man of power and consequence, if he had the choice, he would have chosen Rory as his father.
Family and blood were so much more than a name. Rory had been a man who cared for and protected those he knew and loved. Alexander Stewart, the Earl of Badenoch cared for and protected no one but himself. Adair doubted the man knew how to love, but was certain he would use anyone, including his own kin, to gain whatever he desired. He stilled and wondered if now that he’d found his father, would he ever find his mother? Not likely and not now.
Adair wiped the water from his face and gathered an armful of rocks left smooth by the fast-running water on the riverbed. He vowed to never let the earl gain anything through him. Even if he had to leave the woman he loved behind. He’d spoken the words and told Keila he loved her. But her horrified gaze had been fixed on the fire and he wasn’t certain she’d heard what he’d said.
He understood her reasons for remaining here, unwed in Drummin House. And now she’d lost a friend, a man dear to her heart, he wouldn’t burden her further by telling her again that he loved her. Not when she’d made her own feelings clear by asking him to leave.
He climbed from the river and placed the rocks beside the gaping hole that resembled the hollow emptiness deep inside his chest at the thought of returning to the Borders without Keila. But he refused to put his feelings and wants first and act the way his greedy father would. Instead he’d do what was best for Keila and be the worthy man Rory believed him to be.
***
They returned Rory to the earth as the sun slid low in the west. A gentle breeze carried the smell of burnt offerings to where they stood beneath the small cluster of Scots pines, the scent of smoke reminding them of Rory’s selfless efforts to save Netti from the blaze. But none, despite the flow of tears that would have rivalled the Livet, could understand why he’d been taken too soon or how the fire had started.
As Adair carried Netti back to the house, he decided he’d return to Rory’s cottage and discover what might have caused the fire. He left Keila and Moira in the kitchen to continue consoling each other and to prepare a meal, for none of them had eaten this day. But as he gently set Netti down on the pallet where Keila had tended his injuries, for what now seemed a lifetime ago, she lay her cold fingers on his arm.
He crouched beside her and was once again taken aback by a familiar scent he still couldn’t place. He looked at her small pale hand on his tanned forearm, and then at her face and found her warm gaze wandering over his.
‘Yer name is Adair?’ Spent tears roughened her voice.
‘Aye.’
‘And yer from the Borders?’
‘Aye.’ He nodded.
Her gaze travelled about his face once more before she met his. ‘I thank ye for helping Rory and for helping me.’
He could only imagine the depth of her sorrow. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Netti.’ He glanced away but looked back, needing to say more. ‘Your husband was a fine man.’
Her fingers shifted on his arm, tightening her grip. ‘Thank ye for yer kind words, Adair, but Rory was nae my husband.’ New tears filled her sorrowful blue eyes.
‘It doesn’t matter, Netti,’ Adair said covering her hand with his. ‘Rory loved you—’
‘Ye don’t understand,’ she said in a fierce whisper. ‘My name is Janet and I … I am yer mother.’
A rushing sound filled Adair’s ears, deafening him to all else but the thudding echo of his heartbeat. The dizziness he’d suffered soon after his beating returned now, tenfold. He dropped from his crouching position onto his knees and watched silent teardrops pool and spill over the lashes of the woman claiming to be his mother. The woman named Janet’s blue eyes stared at him. Waiting. She was waiting for him to say something. What could he say to the mother he’d longed for, the mother who’d abandoned him? He said nothing. Instead, he lifted his hands, cupped her fine-boned face, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.
For the longest time he’d imagined his mother coming back for him, imagined her picking him up and holding him tight and saying she’d lost him and how frightened she’d been. He’d clung to her then, his small arms circling her neck and holding on so tight she’d never let him go again. But such imaginings were for small boys; and as the years passed any hope of his smiling, dark-haired mother returning for him faded, and as he’d focused on the Elliots, his new family, the imaginings eventually stopped.
Adair opened his eyes and lowered his hands from her face to hold hers. He looked into the eyes watching him, eyes that weren’t as blue as the ones he remembered. This woman’s face was pale and drawn and deep lines scored her cheeks and the place between her brows. Grey strands dominated the once dark hair that flowed past her thin shoulders. The hands he held were dry and cracked, work-worn, and the lower half of her body, hidden beneath the same woollen blanket that had once covered him, appeared too frail for the rest of her. Then he remembered. This woman couldn’t walk. This woman was a cripple.
An unseen blade slashed his thudding heart. His gaze shot back up, but something in the depths of hers changed, something hardened.
‘Don’t ye pity me!’ She lifted her delicate chin. ‘’Tis my punishment. ’Tis what I deserved for—’ Her voice broke as she slid one hand free of his hold to clutch his hand and dipped her head to hide her tears.
Adair watched her fighting to stay fierce and something inside him shifted. He gently squeezed the fingers he still held and settled on the edge of the pallet. ‘Tell me what happened?’
She brushed the moisture from her cheeks and drew several long, deep breaths before she finally looked at him, her gaze again wandering over his face.
‘I will start at the beginning so ye understand what a foolish lass I was.’ Her chin angled higher and she swallowed once. ‘I was born the fourth daughter of seven children and my parents were able to arrange a position for me as a kitchen maid at nearby Lochindorb Castle. I was fourteen and for two years I worked like a slave. Not long after I turned sixteen, I somehow caught the eye of the earl, Alexander Stewart.’
Adair fought to keep the tension from his body. He knew the rest of the story without his mother saying another word, but the tale was hers and he needed to hear her tell it.
‘Despite hearing of many others falling for his attentions only to be discarded soon after, I lay with him, foolishly thinking my life was going to be grand.’ She slowly shook her head. ‘He tired of me after the fifth time, but I was already with child.’ Her fingers tightened around his.
‘My family were disgraced and turned me out.’ Her lips flattened as she ducked her head for a moment. ‘When my condition was discovered, I was nae longer permitted to work at the castle. I had nae where to go and nae one, except …’ She lifted her chin.
‘Mariota de Athyn was his favoured mistress and had already given Alexander numerous sons and a daughter. She took me in and found a place for me to stay in a small shack on the mainland close by Lochindorb Castle.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I was alone and thought my life was over. And then ye were born and everything I believed I knew, everything I thought mattered, changed. Ye were my everything.’ Her fingers moved and closed tight about his arm. Adair settled his hand over hers and gently squeezed.
‘Ye grew so fast and grew so strong. I struggled to catch ye. I …’ The smile lighting her eyes and making her look younger suddenly disappeared. Adair heard her swallow. ‘The earl, yer father, had never seen ye. I didn’t ken if he knew about ye. But one day when Mariota came to visit, she brought him with her. Ye’d nae long turned four.’ She peered down at their joined hands. ‘He saw ye, asked yer name and lifted ye up for a closer look. I told him I’d named ye Adair and when he set ye back down, he looked at me for a long time, up and down, slow like, and said I should call on him at the castle.’
She shook her head and visibly shuddered. ‘I didn’t want to go to him. I didn’t want to step inside that castle again. He only wanted me back to lie with him. I worried all the night through, and the next day Mariota returned and we went for our usual walk down to the loch. But she wasn’t the same woman I’d come to know. She was terse and angry and all her attention was on ye while ye ran about near the water. I asked her what was wrong, but she brushed my hand aside.’ She clenched Adair’s arm, frowned and looked back up. ‘Then she said in a low, mean voice that I should have a care ye didn’t have an accident and hurt yerself, or worse. The awful look in her eyes when she said it frightened me.
‘I don’t know why she said such things, but I knew the earl played his mistresses off against one another to gain more favours. I thought I’d known fear before that day, but I hadn’t. My need to get ye far away, to keep ye safe was the only thing I cared about, the only thing that mattered.’ She straightened. ‘I stole a horse from the shelter by the jetty the following day. I’d packed enough food for us to last a sennight and hoped I could get ye far enough away from Lochindorb in that time.
‘Ye sat before me and thought it was a grand adventure. The weather was cooling but it was still warm enough to sleep beneath a tree or a rock shelter under the stars. We avoided the towns and travelled hard and continued on each day until the sun was ready to set. I begged for food over the last few days and people were kind enough to give us what they could.’
She stared into the distance. ‘I didn’t know where we were going, but something told me I’d know when we arrived.’ She dipped her head. ‘Part of me didn’t want to get to wherever it was, for it meant …’ Adair heard her breathe in a long breath and was watching her closely when she looked back up at him. ‘And then we heard it. The sound of children playing and laughing. It was one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. We dismounted and watched a group of lads practising with their wooden swords. So fierce yet so small.’ Adair saw her smile at the memory he remembered too.
‘Ye were fascinated and wore a grin so wide while ye looked on.’ Tears welled in her eyes despite the smile she wore. ‘But it was growing late and I needed to decide what I was going to do, and quickly. One half of my heart beat with joy at knowing ye’d be safe here with these lads, while the other side bled at the thought of leaving ye.’ Her breath caught. ‘But I had to let ye go. I couldn’t bear for something to happen to ye because of Mariota’s jealousy, and as much as I wanted to protect ye, I didn’t know for certain that I could.
‘So I smiled down at ye and told ye I loved ye and ye smiled up at me. And I left.’ Tears thickened her voice and rolled down her face.
The one image of his mother that had remained with him all his life appeared in his mind clear and sharp, but as he looked closely now, he saw the glitter of unshed tears in her blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her pain. He’d only seen her smile.
Adair knew what had happened to him after she’d left, but he didn’t know what had happened to her. He placed his palm over the top of her hand. ‘Why did you go back?’
‘I had to.’ She spoke without hesitation, as if she really had no choice. ‘I’d already caused my family enough shame, and having heard tales of murder and imprisonment for those who’d thwarted Alexander Stewart’s wishes, I feared they would be punished for my disappearance. I also had to return the horse I’d taken. But I never did.’ She exhaled and her fragile shoulders lost some of their strength.
‘Rest now. You can finish your—’
‘Nae.’ She cut him off. ‘I’ll finish the telling now,’ she said firmly. ‘I rode back the way we’d come, hard and fast, before the temptation to turn back and get ye proved stronger than my will. I rode for days, scared of what would happen when I returned, frightened of what might happen if I didn’t. I was close and started to recognise clusters of trees and land formations I’d noticed on our journey south, when the sky suddenly turned black and the wind swept up, trying to tear me from my saddle.
‘The heavens opened and the rain fell in torrents the likes I’d never seen before. I was wet through but determined to keep going. Another foolish choice made by a foolish lass.’ Disappointment deepened her tone.
‘A bolt of lightning lit up the sky and touched the ground close to where I was riding and terrified the horse. The poor beast shrieked and reared and as desperately as I tried to hold on, I was tossed from the saddle and flew backwards through the air. The last thing I remember was my back colliding with something hard and a loud crack as my head hit something solid.’
‘I don’t know how long I lay there before I woke, but once I did, a day and a night passed.’ She stopped and stared at the centre of his chest, but lost in her memory, he doubted she saw him in that moment. ‘I was so cold, the likes I’ve never suffered before. But only my upper body and arms. I couldn’t seem to feel my legs. Couldn’t move them. Most frustrating when I had somewhere to be.’
Adair frowned at the small smile she gave while talking about such a frightening and life-changing matter. And then he realised she was making light of something that hurt her too deeply to confront the shattering truth in a serious way. Just as he did. A lump born of understanding filled his throat.
Her smile disappeared and tears once again filled her eyes. ‘Then Rory found me. He’d lost his wife and son in a fire and had an empty home. He was like an older brother to me and gave me a good life. Once I realised I was going to keep living.’ She stared ahead unblinking. ‘At first I wanted to die.’ Moments later her shoulders straightened and her eyes focused on him. ‘Even still, I didn’t want to see anyone. Rory cared for me and I cooked for him.’ Her delicate chin trembled. ‘And now … now he is gone.’
Adair gently wrapped his arms about her fragile, shaking shoulders as she wept. This woman was his mother. She hadn’t abandoned him. She’d been protecting him. This one small woman had been through so much and had suffered at every turn. Adair’s arms tightened about her, as his heart burned at the thought of everything she’d done for him.
He held her until she sobbed her last, clinging to his shirt with both hands. He listened to her quiet sniffles and absorbed the sudden deep breaths that shuddered through her as she released her sorrows and renewed her strength over and over.
He’d come to the Highlands to discover his origins, and though their lives had followed different paths, Adair had found both his father and his mother. While he was disappointed in the man his sire turned out to be, his mother was a woman he admired and vowed to protect for the rest of her life.
She pulled away from his chest, and keeping her face lowered, wiped her eyes with the pads of her fingers. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean …’
Adair lifted her chin and looked into her glittering blue eyes. ‘There is naught to forgive.’ His voice was firm, his tone true. ‘Thank you for all you’ve sacrificed for me, your son. I hope in time to repay you.’ He dropped his hand over hers. ‘The people you left me with are of the best kind and I will be returning to the Elliots.’ He tightened his grip on hers then released her. ‘In a day or two I leave for Braemar and then will journey back to the Borders. I would like to take you with me, to stay with me there, if you care to come.’
He forced himself to draw regular breaths as he waited for her reply. Perhaps he should have given her more time. He was just about to tell her to let him know the next day when his mother blinked up at him, with a fresh bout of tears pooling in her blue eyes and a smile slowly lifting her lips. ‘I would like nothing more than to go wherever ye go, Adair.’
Hearing his name spoken by his mother was something he’d never imagined hearing again. He exhaled long and quiet. ‘Good. Rest and I will begin preparations for our journey.’ He cleared his throat and standing, turned and walked from the healing room.
Never had he experienced such a mixture of so many emotions at one time. Sorrow, surprise, elation and fear. Never had he been more confused in his life.
Adair entered the sitting room and discovered he wasn’t alone. Two sets of tear-filled eyes, one amber, the other a glistening emerald green, stared at him from one side of the doorway he’d just passed through.
He swallowed. ‘You heard?’
‘Aye,’ they both said as one.
He saw no pity in their gazes, only concern and again his admiration for them both climbed impossibly higher. They’d just laid to rest their dear friend and a man they both loved, yet their worrying was directed at him.
He turned and stopped in front of them. ‘How are you both?’
‘I’m fine,’ Moira said, without thought and with a lift of her chin. Adair knew she wasn’t.
‘Well enough,’ Keila said. ‘We’re sorry for listening.’ Her long lashes briefly dipped to hide her tearful eyes.
‘Don’t be,’ Adair said, wanting to take her in his arms and console her for her loss. He wanted to hold her just to feel her against him. ‘It saves the retelling. I’ll be in the stable seeing to the horses should anyone need me.’ He needed to leave before he did exactly what he wanted. He strode outside into the night.
***
Keila watched Adair walk out of the room and felt him take a part of her she hadn’t known he’d claimed. She peered down into the two full cups she’d been carrying to the healing room when she’d heard Netti tell Adair she was his mother. She’d almost spilled the ale and had stood frozen listening to Janet’s heart-wrenching tale of self-sacrifice and long-suffering. How must he feel knowing what his mother had gone through to protect him?
And he was leaving in a day or two.
The chill emptiness she’d felt when he left the sitting room gaped wider at the thought of him no longer here.
‘Go to him, Keila,’ Moira said quietly beside her. Keila turned and faced her friend. ‘Your meals are ready and in the kitchen. I’ll see to Netti and myself. Go.’
Keila nodded and hurried into the kitchen, where she placed the filled cups on a tray and added their simple meals of bread and cheese. The night’s cool breath feathered over her skin as she headed for the stable. Her steps slowed and she stopped to look at Rory’s cairn in the moon’s shadows beneath the pines near the bend in the river. Rory was gone. His passing wasn’t right and didn’t seem real. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.
She tore her gaze away from the rock-covered mound and walked to the double doors at the far end and found them both open. A single lantern had been lit and placed on top of the barrier, casting a pool of light over the stalls. Demon was inside the first, though the gate to keep him in stood wide. Mist and Nettle turned to look at her from the third stall, likely hoping she’d brought them a carrot, but soon lost interest when she didn’t move closer. Adair was nowhere to be seen.
The smell of hay and horses grew stronger as she entered the stable and set her tray on the rear of the cart. He had to be here somewhere. She turned and glanced outside into the darkness and the faintly glowing embers in the distance caught her eye and her breath. She stared, heart clenching and again tore her gaze away from the awful reminder of Rory’s death to find Adair watching her from within the middle stall.
‘Are you alright, Keila?’
His deep voice was like a rush of much-needed air. ‘I’m fine … I couldn’t find you.’ She sounded frightened. She took a deep breath and strove for calm. ‘I’ve brought you the meal Moira prepared.’ Better. ‘You need to eat. You’ve not eaten all day.’
‘Have you?’
She turned and lifted the tray from the cart. ‘I’ve brought mine, too. I thought we might eat together. And talk.’ She swallowed. ‘If you want to.’ She neared the second stall, fully aware he watched her every step. ‘’Tis not a grand meal,’ she said, as he opened the stall door for her. She entered.
He stepped in front of her. ‘Why are you really here?’
She stared down at the contents of the tray while he stood close enough for her to smell the scent of man that was his alone. She lifted her head just enough to see his face. Saw the firm line of his masculine jaw and the slight hardness about his mouth. She wanted to feel less empty and less alone. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted him to hold her. Instead, she said, ‘You’ve just found your mother. I want to know if you’re alright.’
A muscle along his jaw tightened. ‘I will be. But what of you?’ He took the tray from her clenched fingers and set it on the upturned pail behind him. Without the laden tray between them he seemed closer, she seemed closer to getting what she wanted. ‘You’ve just lost a man who was like a father to you, yet you’re always seeing to everyone else.’ He sounded concerned. She didn’t want him to be. His hand gently cupped her chin and tilted her head up until her gaze met his. ‘How are you?’
‘I—’ The warmth in Adair’s voice melted her determination not to confront losing Rory yet, if ever. The worry gazing at her from his blue eyes opened her heart to the hurt and pain. Adair’s handsome face blurred as unwanted tears welled and flowed. She heard her initial sob of despair and was stunned that such a wretched sound could come from her. Powerful arms closed about her and drew her into a wall of heat and security and Keila was helpless to stop the stricken sobs that followed.
She cried for the loss of a man who had brightened her days with his mischievous grin. She wept for the man who’d teased her and prodded her cheek to see if she was still alive and would always miss the sound of his voice calling her lass. She sobbed for the man who forgot what he was saying or why he’d come, when he remembered to show up at all. She’d forever mourn the kind and compassionate man she’d believed was married to his Netti, but who had spent more than twenty years caring for a crippled woman who’d fallen from her horse. Her heart broke for the loss of her friend who’d taught her to brew ale, but had never drunk a drop since he’d lost his wife and son in a fire.
She missed Rory.
Gentle lips pressed against her forehead, as fingers slowly traced the curve of one side of her face. Keila blinked opened eyes that felt wet and swollen and discovered she was cradled between Adair’s chest and thighs as he sat with his back leaning against one wall inside the stall.
‘I miss him.’
‘Aye.’
She could stay here curled against him forever. ‘I came to the stable to console you.’
His fingers paused their downward slide beside her ear. ‘And you have. More than you know.’
‘But—’
‘You’ve lost someone, Keila, while I have found someone I never expected to find. I’ll have time to know my mother later. Right now belongs to you.’