His mind was still churning when they arrived home, their sledge laden with stacks of pelts, a pile of small carcasses and the traps from the line. By the time the skins were stored, the animals hung, and the traps cleaned, they’d missed most of dinner hour. Reid hurried to the hall anyway, hoping to catch Maura before she left.
He opened the door to find her just inside with her parents, Old Fynan, and Gilland. He could do little more than hold the door for them as they walked out, talking intently among themselves. All except Maura. The last one out, she was subdued and quiet.
As she passed, he touched her arm. “Meet me at the willow tonight?” he whispered.
She sighed with sudden irritation and pulled Reid away from the others. “I can’t, Reid. I’ve been at the pens with Gil all day. I’m exhausted.”
All day with Gilland?
His heart sank. He should wish her a good night and leave it be, but the buzzing anxiety prodded him. “I’ll tell you more of Piruz, if you’d like.”
“Borran’s blood! Sleep is what I’d like,” she snapped, turning to follow the others. Then she turned back to him, resentment hardening her expression. “I’m sick of everyone expecting something from me.”
Reid drew back from her anger. “I don’t expect anything from you.” What had happened while he was gone?
She moved close enough that others wouldn’t hear her words. “It’s bad enough Gilland expects me to go to Seal Bay for the summer to ‘learn their ways.’ At least he’s upfront about it. But you, you creep around wanting something without saying what.”
“He’s taking you to the Bay?” Reid thought of Maclan’s warning. “But your father is years from…”
“If I married Gilland, I’d have to leave Bear Clan before Father passes.” Maura’s eyes were bright with tears held back only by anger.
Reid’s heart ached. As close as she was to the clan, to her family, it would be cruel to force her to go.
“I always knew I may not have a choice of husband,” she continued, “and I’ll deal with leaving the clan in my own way. But what about you, Reid?”
“What about me?”
“What is it you want?” Her tone was almost pleading.
“I haven’t asked you for anything,” he said, growing angry.
“I know.” Her face was pale and her eyes haunted. “But maybe I wish you would.”
Her stare dared him to meet her with equal honesty. Deep down, he knew what she wanted him to say. He wanted the same. Yet he couldn’t give it voice, not after all Mac had said. Amid all the talk of chieftains and clans, he realized all the leaders in his stories were men. Would he marry her only to find he was responsible for the clan? A daunting thought and not one to be taken lightly. After all, he was a trapper, not a leader.
But if he didn’t court her, she would marry Gilland and have to leave her home. And that would cut both of them to the marrow.
“I… I…” The words stuck in his throat.
An angry tear escaped her lashes as she pressed her lips together in disappointment. “That’s what I thought.” She straightened her shoulders. “Good night, Reid.” She turned and stalked into the night.
He couldn’t find the will to try and stop her.
CHAPTER 10
Ashamed, Reid slunk home, avoiding anyone who might want to talk. Maura was well and truly angry with him now. Who would blame her? He cursed himself for his stupidity. He’d had a perfect opportunity to play his hand. But Maclan’s revelation had changed the meaning of everything Reid did.
He hated the cold chasm between them. The one of his own making. The one he had no idea how to bridge.
What if I can’t fix it?
He ached at the thought. For the first time, he truly understood what it would mean to lose her. Now it was clear what he wanted, and he had let opportunity slip past him again, like a leaf on the current.
When he reached home, he found Connor slumped against the outer wall, an empty bottle on the ground and a half-full one in his fist. He looked as miserable as Reid felt.
“What’s the matter with you?” Reid asked, sliding down to sit in the dirt next to him.
“Me? Nothing.” His words were laced with bitter sarcasm. Connor took an angry swallow of liquor. “The man’s got no heart.”
Reid knew he meant Tarhill. Neither brother could claim half the affection Tamrach threw at Maclan. Reid groaned to himself. The next few weeks on the trading run promised to be truly miserable, especially without Connor. “Aye, he’s about as warm as an unlit hearth.”
In the silence that followed, Reid noted the rumble of heated voices from inside. Another argument. Had everyone gone mad today?
“Just be grateful you’ll be free of him for a few weeks,” Reid said with envy.
“You don’t understand. I want to go to Cortland.” There was a sadness in Connor’s face Reid didn’t understand.
“You hate trading runs and it’s an even wager which of us he despises more,” Reid said. “Although I think I’d win that one.”
Connor shook his head. “It’s not about trading or about family. There was… someone I was supposed to meet.”
“Someone?”
Connor’s stern look told Reid to mind his own business. “No one you’d know.”
His brother’s trading stories had grown few and far between of late, just as he’d been close-mouthed about the splinting and the stitches. Now he had a “someone.” Reid had to assume this someone was a girl.
“You know,” Connor said, intruding on Reid’s thoughts. “Tarhill is only shipping you off to give Gilland a chance with your girl.”
Does everyone know about the whole bloody mess?
“My girl,” Reid scoffed. “Not yet, she’s not.” He grabbed the bottle from his brother’s hand and drank a large swallow of the too-warm liquor.
Connor elbowed him and snatched the bottle back. He gazed into the liquid thoughtfully and said, “She’s yours for the taking, little brother. You’re just too blind to see it.” He finished the last dregs and tossed the bottle on the ground next to its twin.
“Things change.” Reid’s stomach churned with guilt. “Tarhill needn’t have bothered.”
Connor narrowed his hawkish eyes and smiled humorlessly. “You’ve had a fight, haven’t you?”
Reid couldn’t answer; he didn’t have to. Connor nodded at his silence.
“Good. Now comes the real test.”
His brother clamped a hand on his shoulder as if in sympathy. But instead, he used Reid as a support to stand up, then offered him a hand. When Connor pulled him to his feet, Reid expected another brotherly lecture. But Connor said nothing more. No hints about what Reid should or shouldn’t do. He just pushed open the door and led Reid into the warm orange glow of the main room.
Tarhill stood scowling at Brigga who sat near the hearth, her face a placid mask. “Am I to be overruled in my own house?” he growled at her. She said nothing.
The old man turned and his eyes met Reid’s. “This is all your doing…”
Tarhill looked like he had more to say, a blistering tirade just behind his teeth to unleash on Reid. Then with an angry glance at his wife, he pushed past the two brothers and out into the night.
“He’ll cool down, Mother,” Maclan said with a reassuring hand on Brigga’s arm. “Eventually.”
“I know, love,” she said, patting his hand. “But Borran’s blood, that man is stubborn.” She stood, pulled her shawl closer around her, and cleared her throat.
“Now, here’s how it will be,” she said sternly. “Reid, tomorrow you’re to help me get the pelts down from the rafters. They need fleshing and stretching. There are a fair few and I can’t do all of them by myself.”
“And me?” Connor asked, a hopeful glint in his eye.
Brigga smiled gently and patted his cheek. “A fine tracker you might be, but you’ve no knack for the art of skin. Go haggle those pirates to a decent price.”
Connor’s face lit up.
“Mind your tongue, Connor,” Brigga warned. “Your father will be in a foul mood. He doesn’t like to be crossed.”
“Thank you, Mother.” He threw his arms around her and squeezed until she squeaked.
“Don’t be daft,” she said, swatting him away. “You’re of no use to me. Always ruining the skin. Off you go,” she shooed them with a wave of her hands. “Off to bed, all of you. You’ve long days ahead of you.”
The next day, a sullen Tarhill with Maclan, Connor, and a handful of Seal men left the village, their sledges stacked with skins for trading. Once they’d crossed the snow line, they would trade the bears and sledges for horse and cart in the border town of Dunballe. By midday, Old Fynan took the rest of his men home to Seal Bay, leaving Gilland and five of his bear-handlers to stay with the rogue.
Through it all, Maura avoided Reid. She neither spoke to him nor looked at him. Although she said little to Gilland as well, Reid’s hopes faded.
If he had thought his mother would help him win Maura back, he was much mistaken. She left him no time for thoughts of courtship. For the next day and a half, Reid climbed up into the rafters, bringing down the hides one by one. Stored up there to smoke all winter, now they would need to be scraped and treated and dried. On top of that, he still had trap lines to run, although Brigga told him only to reset the small game ones close to home.
It was tedious, sweaty work. Reid and Brigga spent from sun up to dark under the large tree near their house, scraping the hides and rubbing them down with the pink mash his mother prepared. After that, the hides were stretched and allowed to dry. For two days, they did nothing beyond hide-work until his fingers cramped and his shoulders ached.
Ingrid came the next day and took Brigga to help her in the kitchens, leaving Reid all alone with the chore. He frowned at not having someone to at least swap songs and stories with. That is until Aedan stopped by.
“You up for a hunt?” the young man asked.
“Can’t. These hides need finishing.” Reid would have loved to take a day to wander beneath the pines.
“You work too much,” Aedan groused, settling down on Brigga’s bench. He lingered, sharing a few tidbits of gossip, although nothing about Gilland and the rogue. Reid thought it strange since that was the biggest news the Clan had right now.
“Have you seen much of Maura?” he finally asked.
A moment’s unease flitted across Aedan’s face. “Aye. She goes down to the pens all day with that braggart Gilland.”
Reid stopped mid-scrub. “She’s not working with that rogue, is she?” he asked.
“It’s always hobbled from what I’ve seen,” Aedan said, avoiding Reid’s eyes.
“Even so.” Reid was tempted to go straight to the pens to make sure she was safe. If Gilland wanted to risk his life with the beast, Reid wouldn’t gainsay him, but Maura was another matter entirely. He moved to wipe his hands on a nearby cloth.
“Oy, no need for that,” Aedan said. “You can keep at what you’re doing. I’ve never seen her in with it. Gwenna goes with her most days and hasn’t mentioned anything like that.”
“Gwenna goes with her?” Reid asked.
Aedan smiled slyly. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t keep an eye on your girl?”
Reid almost smiled then remembered that Maura wasn’t speaking to him. “She’s not my girl.”
“Yet,” Aedan said. “Gwenn says that young Fynan has Maura doing maid work. She’s tired of carrying water and food to his men, not to mention lugging fish from the storehouse for the beast. I told Gwen she was lying since Maura never complains about anything. But just last night even I heard her gripe about the bear stink that follows her home.” The young man chuckled. “Although she can’t smell any worse than you. What is that stuff Brigga makes for the hides?”
Reid sniffed at his mash-covered hand. The pink goo did have a pungent reek to it. “Not exactly sure,” Reid said. “It may smell foul, but it makes for good leather. Supple and strong.”
“And what is good leather compared to pretty girls? Not one of them in her right mind would talk to you smelling like that.”
Reid snorted, suddenly embarrassed by the stench.
“Gwen told me that you and Maura… had words,” Aedan said.
“Not an argument,” Reid said, “I… overstepped.”
“Overstepped?” Aedan gave him a wicked grin.
“Not that way,” Reid added.
“That’s good,” Aedan said with relief. “I thought perhaps you were taking bad advice from that brother of yours. I will tell you one thing I do know from having a sister. The longer you wait with them, the worse it gets. Go apologize before she decides you’re not worth waiting for.”
Aedan had a point. If he wanted to fix what he’d broken between them, he needed to talk to her. Since Seal Clan arrived, the entire thing had become a tangled mess and Reid still wasn’t sure he was ready for what might come next. “You’re right,” Reid said. “She’s usually a forgiving sort.”
Aedan leaned closer, his nose wrinkled with disgust. “Although she might be more willing to forgive you if you don’t smell like fish guts.”
CHAPTER 11
The next day Reid took a few hours to run trap lines in the morning. When he came home with a dozen carcasses, he found his mother beneath the tree. With Maura. Together, they were stripping the fat from a large deerskin—Brigga instructing and Maura working hard. They hadn’t noticed him yet and he slowed to listen.
“If only he wouldn’t keep ordering me around,” Maura complained, “we might find time to talk. Get to know each other.” Maura’s attention was focused on her hands. She took care with her task, the same care she applied to everything she did.
“Tarhill is the same,” Brigga said with sympathy. “He needs to feel in charge.”
“But don’t you find it… aggravating?”
Brigga pointed out where some tissue had been left behind.
“Oh aye, it can be very trying,” she said. “He’d never let anything happen to me, though. We always had that connection. When he first came here, starving and sick, I was the only one who could get him to eat.”
“Still, I don’t know how you stand it, Brigga,” Maura said, picking at the last bit of fat.
“The secret is to see him for what he really is. And you must know that they will never change. Choose your partner with that in mind and you’ll be fine.”
Maura looked up just then and Reid immediately started walking as if he hadn’t been listening. Brigga turned at Maura’s hitch of breath.
“There you are,” his mother called as he came down the path. “She’s about done here. Bring the bucket after you string those up.”
Maura pushed a curl off her cheek with the sweaty back of a hand. Her smile was cautious, as if unsure of her welcome. He nodded without a word and went to the shed. After hanging the carcasses next to the ones from the other day, he fetched the mash and headed back to the tree.
Maura never stays angry long. Just be calm. Give her space.
He took a deep breath, forcing a bland expression.
Easier said than done, of course.
As he approached with the bucket, he called out, “Taking a break from bears today?” His voice was light and easy.
Maura’s shoulders relaxed at the sound. “Yes, although my mother seems to think this is the summer of lessons.” She gestured to the stretched skin before her. “Since I’ve never tanned hides, she decided today that I should learn.”
“Well, it’s not something we do every day,” Brigga said. “So if you don’t learn it now, you might not get to.” The reminder of Maura’s imminent departure was a not-so-subtle prod for Reid. Then Brigga did something he’d had never seen her do. She sat down and wiped the moisture from her brow.
“My apologies, Maura. I’m tired today,” she said, smoothing her braids. Reid stared at his mother with disbelief, her stern look silencing any comment. “I don’t think I can finish
your lesson. Maybe you could come back tomorrow.”
“Oh, I suppose I could go to the pens today and come tomorrow.” Obviously disappointed, Maura risked a glance at Reid. A look that definitely meant she would rather stay here.
“Mother, you’ll ruin the skin if you stop now,” Reid chided. “I can teach Maura from here. That is, if she doesn’t mind.” He lifted an eyebrow in Maura’s direction.
“A teacher is a teacher,” she shrugged.
Brigga sighed and stood up slowly as if terribly weary. Reid could barely contain his laughter, wondering if Maura could see through the act as easily as he could. But the chieftain’s daughter said nothing. Brigga laid a hand on Maura’s arm, “Reid is the real master at this, if you want the truth. I will go see what needs doing in the house.”
With that, Reid’s mother walked ever so slowly into the house and closed the door behind her with a purposeful thud.
He rubbed his neck. “Sorry about that.”
“So, what’s next, Master of Deerskin?” She gestured to the skin in front of her with a sly smile.
He scooped a handful of the pink mash out of the bucket. “Next, we rub this on it and then rinse it in the barrel over there.” He put the glop in her hand and showed her how to rub it into the skin. Then starting at either end, they both worked the hide. As the concoction warmed in their hands, the odor rose between them and Maura made a face.
“What’s in this?”
“Oh, a bit of pine ash,” he said, “and some other things. Mother’s personal recipe.”
She nodded with an absent-minded ‘hmph’ and continued to work.
“But it’s the brains that make it pink,” he added.
She yanked her hands from the skin and stared at the pink goo sticking to her fingers. “Brains? You’re playing me, Reid Tarhill. Aren’t you?”
He laughed at her shocked expression. “They may even be rabbit brains for all I know,” he goaded.
She grimaced and he thought she’d shake the offensive stuff from her hands and leave. But then mischief sparkled in her eye. She scooped some mash off the skin and threw it at him. It splattered over his face, a large blob landing on his cheek and sliding slowly down his neck as Maura laughed. A deep, hearty laugh. The kind he hadn’t heard from her in a long time. He laughed too as he wiped his cheek and flicked the mash back at her, catching her on her chin.
Tales of the Archer: A Corthan Companion Page 7