Highland Chieftain

by Hannah Howell

  “Och, aye, ye do. Ye are like a cat sitting on a wasp waiting for the sting.”

  “Babies,” she whispered. “I was thinking the other day how odd it was that my mother had no bairns for near to twenty years.”

  “Jesu.” He ignored Bethoc’s muttered scold for his language. “’Tis a possibility. Lassies, I would wager. He ne’er had a use for lassies.”

  “Aye, ’tis what I thought.”

  “The bastard. I ne’er saw it. Ne’er saw your mother with child or birthing one until this little wretch.” He tickled Margaret’s foot.

  “Hey, Colin, I found something,” called Liam, his freckled face pale with alarm.

  “What is it?” asked Colin.

  “Something wrapped in a rotting blanket.”

  Colin clasped Bethoc’s hand when she made a small sound of distress. “Put it aside and keep digging.” He looked at Bethoc. “We have to ken, Bethoc.”

  “And when we ken what do we do about it?”

  “That I dinnae ken. I am just certain we need to ken what he has done. For our own sake. For our own safety. We have to ken what he is capable of.”

  By the time the boys were finished they had found four little bodies. Bethoc wept silently as she looked at each one. No wonder her mother had become more and more lost in her dreams. She had lost so much. It was why she had made Bethoc promise to never leave Margaret. She knew at least some of these babies had been killed. Knew it without a doubt yet there was nothing she could do about it. All her father had to do was swear they were born dead. She had no power, neither did the boys, and all they had was bones.

  Once the babies were reburied next to her mother’s grave, they all moved silently back into the house. After Colin was helped into his bed, Bethoc had the strong urge to go see Callum. She did not know why, only that she had a need to be with him, mayhap even to speak of the bairns. It was still light enough but it had been three days since she had seen him. It was an urge she really did not understand but she decided to give in to it.

  Before she thought on it too much, she packed up Margaret and a basket full of food and set out. It would not be long before the sun began to sink in the sky but she felt she had time enough. She paused to study the berry bushes near the bottom of the hill. They were nearing ripeness so she set down her basket and pulled some netting out of her bag to drape each bush in the hope of saving at least some berries from the birds. It was just as she was about to pick up her basket and head to the path leading to the cave that she knew she was no longer alone.

  Afraid, she turned to survey the clearing. Her heart leapt with fear as she saw five men ride into the clearing. They had already seen her and were heading straight for her. She waited, for every instinct told her that running would be a mistake.

  The man in the lead stopped and studied her for a moment before speaking. “Mistress, we are searching for someone. A mon. Our friend became separated from us and we are trying to find him, fearing he may be hurt.”

  It was well said, but Bethoc did not believe a word of it. “I have seen no one.”

  “No one?”

  “Nay, no one.” She took a step back when he dismounted for his smell was bad and not from his unwashed state. “I came here to try and protect the berries that are so near to ripening.” She waved toward the bushes.

  “What is in the bag?”

  His voice, she noticed, was getting colder and harder. “Weel, it held the nets I needed and now all it holds are the things Margaret may need,” she replied, finding it very easy to lie to him and trying hard not to glance to where she had set the basket of food just behind one of the bushes while she had arranged the nets. “’Tis Margaret’s bag.”

  He reached for the bag but Margaret’s hand grabbed it first. Once declared hers, the child would never let it go. To her surprise Margaret screeched. The man jerked back, releasing the bag as he stared at Margaret. A peek at her sister revealed Margaret’s sweet face pressed into a fierce scowl, her bottom lip pushed out. Bethoc had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing.

  “Make her let go of the bag,” he ordered.

  Worried they might do something to Margaret, she reached for the bag handles. Margaret clutched the bag as close as she could and growled. It was hard not to laugh. She struggled with Margaret until the men waiting on their horses started laughing.

  “Och, leave it with the brat.” The man glared at Bethoc. “Ye are certain ye havenae seen any mon wandering about?” Bethoc shook her head. “Fine,” he grumbled as he remounted and scowled at Margaret. “Little brat. Jesu,” he yelled when Margaret screeched at him.

  Bethoc watched them leave then glanced back at Margaret. “Weel done, my clever lass,” she said, and kissed her on the forehead.

  Margaret bounced and Bethoc fought to keep her balance. She fought with the child for a moment to loosen the bag from her little hands. Then she had a good look around and saw no one, nor did she hear their horses. Deciding she needed to move quickly, she grabbed her basket, hurried up the path, and moved just enough brush to slip into the cave, yanking the brush back in place.

  “Greetings, Mistress Matheson,” Callum said, biting back a smile, but he quickly grew serious when he saw her face more clearly. There was the hint of fear there. “Is anything wrong?”

  She unhooked Margaret and set her down then kissed her on the forehead again. “Smart lass.” She looked at Callum and felt something inside her ease a little. “I believe I just met your attackers.” A shiver went through her even though the men had not threatened her.

  He sat up quickly. “Are ye all right?”

  “Oh, aye. They asked about ye. Said they were looking for a lost friend and feared he may have been hurt. Wanted to look in my bag.”

  Margaret walked over to Callum, bent over a little, and shoved her forehead close to his mouth, pointing at it. “What is this?” he asked.

  “Ah, I think she expects ye to say ‘smart lass’ and kiss her forehead.” She laughed when he did so and Margaret walked away looking very pleased with herself only to grab the bag and drag it with her when she went to sit and watch the horse.

  “Why did I just do that?” he asked.

  “Because when he tried to grab the bag, she would nay let him have it. Screeched at him. Held on tight, too. Ye see, I called it Margaret’s bag. No one was going to get hold of it after that.” Bethoc sat down next to him and began to unpack the food. “It wasnae until he tried to get the bag that I feared I might have put Margaret in danger but they really were nay interested in us once I couldnae tell them anything about ye.”

  “That was it? Ye said it was hers?”

  “All it needed. If Margaret hears ye say something is hers, she grabs it and ’tis verra, verra hard to get it back. She is a wee bit possessive about what is hers. I think I shall have to do something about that. ’Tis nay a good thing but it was useful this time.”

  Callum could not help it, he started to laugh. “Defeated by a two-year-old?”

  “I suspicion a lot of people have been,” said Bethoc, smiling faintly.

  He laughed even harder. “Och aye.”

  It was a few minutes before he could calm down. “Did they nay ask about the food?”

  “Nay, I had put the basket down behind a bush for I needed to cover the bushes with netting and it was getting in the way. It was nicely out of sight. But it does mean they are still lurking about the place. That cannae be safe for ye.”

  “I am as safe here as I would be anywhere. Dinnae worry on it.”

  “There are five of them and none of them have a broken leg.”

  “True but they have to find the cave.”

  “I ken it. I will be sure to hide my trail when I leave.”

  He put his arm around her and tugged her close, kissing her forehead. She blushed but also smiled. “Are ye going to call me ‘smart lass’ now?”

  “And so ye are.” He tipped her face up to his. “Ye also worry far too much about what happ
ens to everyone but ye.” Keeping an eye out for any sign of rejection, he gave in to the temptation he had fought for days and kissed her.

  Bethoc felt the warmth of his mouth on hers flood her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. Although she had gained a tiny bit of knowledge about kisses, she had never known they could make one feel so warm and needy. When he nudged his tongue into her mouth, she was startled but that surprise lasted only a moment. The feel of his tongue stroking inside her mouth caused a delicious tightening in her belly. Her heart pounded and she had the urge to crawl up in his lap, to get as close to him as she could possibly get.

  She also smelled cinnamon. It was a heady smell that filled her lungs and warmed her. She realized it came from his desire and that was a heady knowledge. When he left her, his mouth moving to her neck, she sighed for that smell began to fade.

  “That was, mayhap, nay the smartest thing I have done,” he said as he lifted his head to look at her, catching a look of embarrassment suddenly sweep over her. “Because,” he said quickly, “I have a broken leg.” He was relieved when she suddenly looked confused.

  “I am nay touching it,” she murmured.

  “Lass, kissing leads to more and I am in no state to do anything more.” He grinned when she blushed.

  Bethoc pulled away from him. “I ne’er, I mean I wasnae expecting . . .” She shut up when he gave her a quick hard kiss.

  “I rather suspicioned that. I was but referring to me and what I was feeling.”

  She was not entirely sure what he meant but did not want to say so. It would also explain his scent. What occurred between men and women was a bit of a mystery to her. She knew of desire but not of what it entailed or what was done about it. It was enough to know the ending of the kiss was nothing to do with her, or, worse, how she kissed. She rather hoped she did well enough that he would wish to do it again soon.

  “I had best leave as it must be near sunset by now.” She stood up and brushed down her skirts. “’Tis nay a good idea to be caught out after dark when ye are near the river.”

  “I have heard a few things at night. Feared it was the men who had attacked me but the sounds never left the river.”

  “Aye, smugglers most like.” She shrugged. “I am nay sure what some of them are doing but I suspicion most of it is illegal.”

  “True enough. Mayhap e’en some poaching. Be careful, Bethoc, and nay just because it would be awkward if I didnae have your help any longer.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  Bethoc was just wondering what he would do if she flung herself in his arms and asked for another kiss when Margaret suddenly ran up to him and stuck out her hand. Laughing when she gave it a little shake, Callum gently kissed the child’s hand. As she picked up Margaret Bethoc shook her head.

  “Weel, are ye nay the little flirt,” she said as she put Margaret in the sling and settled her on her back.

  Callum dragged himself to his feet and followed them to the opening. He leaned against the rock and watched them as they left, then did a quick survey of the area before ducking back inside and putting the covering over the opening. He hated the fact that he could not escort her home. He suspected soon he could manage such a walk, slowly, but his leg would ensure he could offer little help if an attack came. The only thing that would be served was his pride.

  Moving back to his pallet, he grimaced. Sitting and doing nothing was beginning to drive him mad. He was going to have to think of something to keep himself busy. Glancing at his rough, unadorned walking stick, he smiled. No need for a man not to decorate the tools he used. He pulled out a knife from his pocket, grabbed the stick, and began to work.

  * * *

  Bethoc slipped into the house and breathed a sigh of relief. Kerr was not at home. She was not sure where he was or what he was doing except drinking when he spent so much time in the village, but life was easier with his absence. Putting away the basket, and her cloak, she went looking for Margaret who had only just been set down. She found the little girl sitting beneath the tree with Cathan. She went and sat down with them.

  “Are ye done for the day then, Cathan?” Bethoc asked.

  “Aye,” he muttered.

  “Ouch,” said Margaret, and grabbed his hand, ignoring his attempts to get it free as she showed it to Bethoc.

  “’Tis all right. Colin tended it.”

  Seeing the bandage and smelling the herbal scent of the cream she put on such injuries, she had to nod. He had done well, which told her he watched every time she tended their injuries. She took Cathan’s hand in hers and carefully examined the whole thing before letting go.

  “Aye, he did a verra fine job as weel. I will change the bandage after we sup.”

  “I dinnae ken why he made me come sit here. I can still work with this hand.”

  Bethoc looked at the hand he held up and winced as it was filthy. “Nay, ye cannae and that is that.”

  Cathan looked at his hand and frowned. “It is nay hurt so I can.”

  “It is dirty. If ye get any dirt on your hurt hand it could be bad.”

  “Why?”

  “I really dinnae ken but I do ken that clean is better. Mayhap ye can come in, wash that hand, and give me some help with the meal.”

  He did not look very happy about it, but he followed her inside along with Margaret. She started another stew using the meat left from the other night. Soon, as she fell into the rhythm of preparing the meal, her thoughts began to wander.

  Thinking of Callum brought a flush to her cheeks. She knew she should not allow him to kiss her but she also knew she could not wait for him to do so again. He was a handsome fellow and there was a kindness in him that was hard to resist. So hard, she knew she would be slipping back there as soon as she could.

  She wondered if this was what her mother had felt. If so, it was rather easy to see how she could have become lost in dreams as her real life had worsened. Bethoc just wished the woman had had the strength to recall that there were children around her that needed help. She knew she never would, never could, forget.

  The boys sat at the table once they had washed up. Her father had arrived and was sullenly drinking ale. Bethoc always got tense when she saw him drinking as she could never be sure what might stir his anger then. The boys watched him carefully as they waited for their meal. It was evident that they understood the danger that came with Kerr drinking.

  It occurred to Bethoc that this was how all their mealtimes went. There were times when it was better but they grew fewer and fewer as time slipped by. She wondered what it would be like to simply sit and have a meal filled with talk, laughter, and good companionship. It would be wondrous, she thought. Perhaps, if she was very fortunate, she would have that.

  If she married, she thought, and suddenly frowned. She was more than old enough to be married yet her father had never made an effort to match her up with anyone. While she was pleased he had not done so with the friends he occasionally brought round, it was curious. It could have brought him some money as some men were more than ready to pay for a young wife. It was odd that her father, who was always on the hunt for a way to get money without working for it, would not think to use his own daughter. She doubted she would make him rich but she was sure she would add a fair number of coins to his purse.

  Shaking away such thoughts, she began to serve the food. As she sat down to eat and help young Margaret eat her food, she wondered about asking her father why he had not seen to her marriage. Just as quickly she decided not to say a word. Now that she had met Callum, even if he was not the man for her, she could not envision marrying anyone her father picked out. It was better if he never had a thought about it, she decided, and shook away the faint image of Callum that still lingered in her mind.

  Chapter Five

  “I will watch Margaret for ye if ye are eager to get out,” said Colin as he stepped up beside her in the doorway.

  Bethoc turned from watching Kerr disappear down the road and looked at Col
in. He was badly bruised, even after a week of healing, but the swelling had gone down a bit. It would be a long time before he completely healed and she was still concerned about the bad bruise on his temple. It was also a wonder that nothing had been broken.

  It had been a very long week since she had seen Callum and she truly missed him. She had not been able to do more than hastily deliver some food to him and then hurry back home. It seemed odd to her that she should be feeling such a need to see the man. He was very handsome with his dark red hair and green eyes, and grew more so as each bruise faded away. But all they had done was talk some as she had tended to his injuries. Even that kiss was but one time. It seemed hardly enough to cause her such a need to go and see him.

  “Nay, Colin, I cannae leave Margaret,” she said, not able to hide all her reluctance. “I promised my mother I would ne’er leave her.” At times that promise felt like a chain around her neck but then she would feel guilty for having such a thought for she adored Margaret.

  “And we ken why now, didnae we? He got rid of them. Probably brought her one of us to make up for it. But I doubt she meant for ye to keep her attached to your side as ye do.”

  “Odd though it is, I believe she did.”

  “Ye want to go and see your mon.”

  “Colin! I dinnae have a mon.”

  He laughed. “Och, aye, ye do, though I dinnae ken why ye are keeping him in a cave.”

  She gaped at him. “What cave?” she asked weakly.

  “Do ye really think we would let ye just wander off all the time? Nay. We followed. After the first time it was always just me or Bean. Did think we might have to do something when those men approached you.” He grinned. “But our wee Margaret put on a fine show, didnae she. I wouldnae have wanted to touch a child who could screech like that either. Sounded possessed.”

  “Aye, she did weel. Ye have always kenned where I have gone?”

  “Always.”

  She slowly sat down in the doorway. A moment later, Colin sat down beside her. Bethoc did not know what to say or do. The cave had been her secret place for so long. It had been what she loved about it, the fact that it was her place and no one knew where she was. She had been slowly making it more comfortable, more livable. She did not know what she should do now that she realized it had not been much of a secret at all. And what should she do about Callum? He needed to be hidden. It was alarming to know that he was not.