Moray didn’t like the look of the horse. He’d spent enough time around horses to learn a thing or two about their body language.
Celestina strolled back over to Paddy. Petting his muzzle, she cooed soft words to him. The wee beast’s attitude changed right away, but as soon as she was done, he moved over to Moray and began to push him with his muzzle.
“What the hell?” Moray asked—and then immediately apologized to Celestina for his language. The strange pony could be infuriating at times. Then Paddy walked over to Steenie and looked as if he were whispering into the lad’s ear. When he finished, he returned to Moray, who stood with a gaping mouth, and pushed him again.
“What’s going on with your pet, Steenie? Why is he pushing me?”
Steenie lifted his head for a moment as if he were listening to someone, then said, “Paddy said we can only make one basket, Grandmama, then we must use the ribbons to make pretty ties for hair.”
Steenie looked surprised, then asked his horse, “But why? I wished to make more ’corations.”
He listened quietly, then his shoulders slumped.
“Paddy says one basket for Mama, then hair ribbons. Two of them, and he’s pushing Moray because you’re supposed to be patrolling.”
Moray couldn’t help but laugh. “Now you’re giving me orders, Paddy? Don’t forget I’m the acting chief right now. I don’t need the advice of a wee pony to do my job.”
Moray used his natural swagger to exit the stable, shaking his head over the horse’s antics. A rustling sound caught his ears, and he spun around just in time to hear the horse running.
Straight at him.
So he hurried out of the stable.
Paddy pushed against him again, more insistent this time. He only stopped when Brodie Grant emerged from the great hall and whistled at the beast.
“Paddy, go back inside. You’ll not be bothering our chief with your problems. They can wait until Braden returns.”
Paddy stopped in front of Brodie, gave him an aggravated snort, then returned to the stables.
“He listens to you?” Moray asked, surprised.
“He does. I’m not sure why. He listens to Braden, too, but I think it’s only because I told the animal he had to listen to his chief.” He chuckled. “You cannot question he’s an unusual creature. We need to distract Steenie. His mother is coming out to get a good look at Paddy.”
Moray asked, “At the pony?” in disbelief. Had he heard him correctly?
“Aye, join me. We have to distract Steenie.” Brodie headed into the stables, Moray directly behind him.
They hadn’t gone far when a loud voice carried out of the stall at the back. “Grandpapa,” Steenie shouted loud enough for anyone in the keep to hear him. “Why are you here?”
Without giving Brodie time to answer, he came scampering out of the stall, a huge grin on his face. “Grandmama was just helping me with Mama’s Yule gift. Promise not to tell?”
“Aye, I promise, but you better hide it quickly. Your mother is on her way out here.”
Steenie squealed and ran back to the place where he’d left the basket. Moray could hear him explaining the problem to his grandmama, and the basket was safely hidden away just before Cairstine strode inside. She gave a pointed look at Brodie, who said, “Steenie, here comes your mother. Please join us.”
Steenie charged out of the work stall and said, “Greetings, Mama. You cannot go back there.”
She grinned but played along with him. “I think Grandpapa needs your help.”
She tipped her head toward Brodie, who quickly chimed in. “I wish to find two more branches to whittle. Will you not help me? You seem to have a special talent for it.”
Steenie, seemingly thrilled by the request, said, “I’m coming, Grandpapa. We should go now before the storm comes along.”
Brodie said, “I think we have time.”
The two headed out of the stables, Corc winking at Brodie as they left. Moray sauntered down the passageway to Paddy’s stall. The two women were back there with the temperamental beast, and he didn’t expect the pony to be pleased about it.
Which was why he was so shocked by what he saw.
Celestina had some grain in her hand, and Paddy was busy trying to eat it, tipping his head every now and then to swallow. Cairstine, in the meantime, circled the small horse as if appraising him for something.
Moray asked, “What is she doing?”
Corc followed him and said, “Another Yuletide tradition. Cairstine is making Steenie a pony out of fabric, one he can take to bed with him, keep inside. You remember when your mama made you such things?”
Moray nodded. “I do. I loved my dog. Took the fabric one to bed with me every night. Laddies need one.”
“Aye,” Cairstine said. “I agree, but Steenie’s sire did not. He found the fabric animal I’d made for Steenie and destroyed it before his eyes. No one will take this one away from him. Braden agrees ’tis important for him to have it.”
“’Tis a great idea,” Corc said.
“Aye, but I have to make one just like Paddy, so I needed to come out and study his form a bit.” She circled again, and Paddy stomped his front hoof with a snort.
Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean, Corc?”
Corc shrugged his shoulders, but Celestina said, “When he stomps like that, ’tis usually to communicate a number. That meant one of something.”
Paddy whinnied and pawed the dirt four more times.
“Four?” Moray asked. “Four what?”
“Four treats, usually,” Corc drawled.
Paddy shook his mane rather forcefully, then pawed the ground six more times.
“Not treats,” Corc said. “Then six what?”
The adults pondered the question, staring at the wee horse. He pawed the ground four more times.
“We’re thinking, Paddy. No reason to be upset with us,” Cairstine said, rubbing the horse’s withers.
Celestina tipped her head. “Are you trying to tell us we must make four more fabric animals?”
Paddy nodded his head and nuzzled Celestina’s palm, his entire body relaxing now that his message had been heard and understood.
“’Tis your answer. Paddy wishes for you to make seven fabric ponies for Steenie.”
“Seven?” Cairstine asked, her eyes wide. “’Tis an awful lot for one lad.”
Celestina said, “I’ll assist you. Perhaps he knows of some visitors we’re having. Roddy and Rose are not far from us.” She shrugged. “No matter. Apparently, this is important to Steenie’s dear pet, so we’ll oblige him. He always seems to know what he’s about.”
Paddy nuzzled her hand again.
All Moray could think was that Paddy the Pony controlled more people than he did.
Chapter Seven
Juel stood next to his sister at the mouth of the cave, gripping her hand. “You must find us more food, Shona. The bread is nearly gone.”
Jamesina stepped up on her other side. “But you must be careful. A storm is brewing. I can feel it.”
“Which is even more of a reason for me to go now. If I don’t find something, I may not be able to go out again for two or three days.” And if it snowed, any possible food would be buried.
Juel was on his feet for the first time in days, and Jamesina’s brothers had both awakened enough to sit up. They’d both suffered from sore throats, but the food had perked them up. The blessing would not last for long. They needed more food if they were truly to improve.
Shona had decided to go back to the place where she’d found the first bag of food. Perhaps the person who’d left that package, the man in the red plaid, had repeated the good deed.
Juel squeezed her hand and gazed up at her. “Promise to come back? Do not get lost.”
She leaned over to give him a quick hug. “I promise to return.” She knew exactly what was going on inside his head. They’d lost both of their parents. It was horrible to think that they might also lose each other.
Releasing her brother, she ushered him back toward the deepest part of the cave. “Back inside. You must stay warm, Juel. You can play a game with Benneit and James.”
“What game could we play?”
“Here,” she bent over as they rounded the corner in the cave. “Use these stones. See who can throw them the farthest. Just be careful to throw them away from each other.”
Shona winced. It struck her that she sounded just like her mother, but perhaps that was no great surprise. Juel was hers to protect. Hers to love.
Jamesina pulled her aside while Juel scampered off to the back of the cave. “You cannot go back to that hut. Promise me. If we lose you, we’ll all die.”
“I won’t,” she said, “but mayhap we should go back sometime. The furs alone have saved us.”
“Aye, and they’ve been a blessing, but you were almost caught. Promise me you’ll not return there? Just go quickly and return.”
She nodded but wondered to herself if it would be the best blessing of all if she were not caught by that handsome Highlander.
They needed help, and soon.
The back of the cave protected them from the elements, but the temperatures were dropping. As thin as they all were, the only things keeping them alive were the heat from each other and the multiple furs they had. That and the meager food supply she’d been able to gather.
“Jamesina, I must go now before there is too much snow.”
Jamesina’s eyes teared up. “I know. Go before the snow is too deep but be back before dark. Please?”
“I’ll return as soon as I find food for us.”
She knew it was the key to keeping them all alive, and the duty of finding it rested entirely on her shoulders.
***
With each encounter with Paddy, Moray was becoming more convinced the animal was indeed special. Perhaps even magical. So why did the pony want him to go on patrol?
Mayhap he was going mad, but he had a niggling feeling it was over his golden-haired lass. Who was she? He had questioned Corc, Brodie, and every other guard in the keep, but no one else had seen her.
Yule would be here in another sennight, which meant Braden and Roddy should be returning soon. He called out to the guards he’d assembled for the patrol. “I want you searching not just for reivers, but for a yellow-haired lass.”
Clyde chuckled and said, “I think you’re having dreams of a yuletide gift that you’ll not see, Chief.”
Gilbert, the most serious of the three, said, “Just do as you’re told, Clyde. Keep an eye out for her.”
“And if I see her first?” Clyde asked with a smirk. “Bride-stealing is still allowed in Scotland.”
“The hell it is,” Moray growled. “She’s under my protection.” He pulled on the reins of his horse, moving ahead of the others. While he may not have planned to say that, he’d meant every word. They’d not touch her if he was around.
For some reason, he felt as though she did belong with him.
He doubted she’d agree.
His brother Ronan was the one who’d been good with lasses. He’d charmed everyone at Clan Grant. Keith had always been jealous, now that Moray thought about it. His brothers had argued quite a bit, even resorting to their fists on a few occasions. Moray had watched. As the youngest and smallest brother, he’d been able to do little else.
You might not have been able to save him even if you’d been on that cliff, a little voice whispered in his ear, taunting him. He shook it off, something he’d become accustomed to doing of late.
He rode to the reivers’ camp to see if there was any sign of new activity, but he found nothing. Glancing at the place where he’d set the last sack of food, he wished he’d thought to bring another. She clearly needed it.
He even found himself taking his horse to the cottage where he’d followed her to before, but there was no sign of her there either.
Directing his horse back to the others, he held his head up to the sky. The clouds roiled in the sky, rolling in different directions, which he knew was a dangerous sign.
“Aye, Chief. ’Tis a mighty strong storm rolling in. Based on the movement in the forests, ’twill be a nasty one.”
He quirked his brow at Blane, wondering what he meant.
Blane shrugged his shoulders. “Naught is moving out there. ’Tis always this way just before a wild storm hits.”
And the golden-haired lass might be caught out in it. Still, with no further leads, he wasn’t certain he’d ever find her again.
“Let’s return,” he bellowed, and the other men fell in behind him.
After a time, a whistle from the top of the curtain wall caught his attention. Someone had arrived at the castle gates. When the gate was opened for them not long afterward, his gaze immediately fell upon the visitors—a group of five men wearing an unfamiliar green plaid.
Corc said, “The MacFee is here to talk with you, Chief. ’Tis quite important.”
Moray nodded, dismounting in front of the neighboring man. Although he’d heard of the MacFee, Moray was still relatively new to the area, and they had not yet met.
Moray nodded to the man, and Brodie joined them and said, “We’d be pleased to share an ale with you in my son’s great hall.”
“Much obliged. Who is the chief?”
“My son, Braden Grant, is laird here, but he is presently on a mission. Moray is acting chief in his absence.”
MacFee greeted him briefly, his gaze assessing, but it was clear he’d prefer to speak his mind once they were inside. Moray and Brodie led the group into the great hall, and Cairstine left at once to arrange for a small repast for the group. Celestina appeared with an ale for each man at the table, Hilda assisting her.
Moray still had no idea what they wanted.
He found out quickly.
“I’m hoping you’ve seen my bairns somewhere,” James MacFee said as soon as he sat down.
Moray glanced at him, the vision of a golden-haired lass appearing in his mind.
“A daughter and two laddies. They’ve been missing for a long time.”
Moray’s gut flip-flopped three times.
Chapter Eight
“Is she golden-haired, Chief?”
MacFee shook his head. “Nay, she and my son Benneit both have red hair, and James’s hair is brown like his mother’s.”
Moray’s hope quelled in an instant. The lass he’d seen was definitely not red-haired. “We have not seen anyone who matches your description, but if you tell us all you can, we’ll be watchful. We go on patrol daily.”
MacFee’s face fell. “We lived in an area with five other cottages, not far from my brother, the laird of Clan MacFee. My brother and I have had our differences, but I never thought ’twould cost me my loved ones.”
He paused, and Moray glanced over at Brodie to see his reaction.
“You have our sympathies,” Brodie said. “Tell us what happened and how we can help. We’re new to this area. My son married Cairstine Muir and rid the castle of the bastards who killed her parents.”
MacFee looked pleased with this information. “We’ve wondered why things have been calmer in this area. But I digress. Know you anything about the Channel of Dubh? The smugglers who kidnap and sell lasses and lads?”
“Aye, we do. My nieces, nephews, and son are fighting that verra group. What did they do to your loved ones?” Brodie poured the man another ale.
“The men came while we were out hunting. Killed my wife and a few others, but they took all of the young ones. I’ve been searching everywhere, but there’s no trail of them. It’s whispered a group called the Band killed many of the men who stole my bairns, but I haven’t found my sons and daughter. I’ve searched everywhere.”
“The Band of Cousins is my son’s group. They’ve put a stop to many bad men, including the Lamonts who controlled Muir Castle. How long ago?”
“A little over a moon ago.”
Brodie sighed and leaned toward the man. “You know the odds are l
ow they’d survive for that long in the winter.”
MacFee ran his hand through his hair. “I know of what you speak, but…” He paused, his voice cracking. “But I cannot lose them all. Our three bairns, my beautiful wife… If only one of them is still alive, I must continue on.”
Moray said, “You have my sympathies, but do not give up hope. I’ve seen a yellow-haired lass a couple of times, but she keeps disappearing. Know you who she could be?”
MacFee shook his head, his eyes misting. “My neighbor MacKinnon and his wife are dead. They had bairns, so she could be one of theirs, but I cannot say for certain. We kept to ourselves. The bastards murdered so many and stole others. Are they Scots? Who would do such a thing?”
“Who, indeed,” Moray said. “We’ve reason to hope the Channel will be crushed soon. We’ve searched this area every day. Unfortunately, we’ve encountered more reivers than we usually would at this time of the year. We’ll gladly search with you on the morrow. We’ll split up the areas so we can cover more territory.”
Brodie said, “You’re welcome to stay the night.”
MacFee stood from his seat. “Many thanks to you, but I’ll not rest until I find my bairns. With the storm coming, I fear what may happen to them. Mayhap ’tis foolish, but if I can find them before Yule, I believe they will make it. But after that, the temperatures, the snow could…”
Celestina came forward with a sack and handed it to him, putting her hand on his shoulder as a gesture of comfort. “Godspeed to you on your travels. We’re happy to share cheese and bread for your journey. We wish you well.”
“My thanks to you,” he said. Shifting his gaze between Brodie and Moray, he said, “You’ll send a messenger if you find anything?”
Moray said, “You have my word as a Highlander that we’ll do all we can to find your bairns, and we’ll let you know if we uncover any sign of them.”
But he didn’t feel good about their chances.
He would wager all three were dead or sold across the water.
***
Shona crept toward the reivers’ camp as quietly as she could. The air was so still that one could hear the flap of a small bird’s wings as it took off in flight. While the quiet would protect her from any stranger catching her unaware, it would also alert others to her presence.
Highland Yuletide Magic (The Band of Cousins Book 9) Page 4