Bram dropped into a chair, his heart constricting. “Then where can she be?”
“Where can who be?” Iain Mackintosh’s voice filled the room as he entered, Ranald Macqueen following on his heels. Iain was a giant of a man with inky black hair and intelligent eyes. There was little he missed. And nothing he couldn’t handle. Especially when he was with Ranald. The two men had been best friends since they were just wee boys and Bram counted their kinship among his most cherished.
“Bram seems to have lost someone important,” Katherine said, crossing over to her husband.
The joy reflected on both of their faces made Bram’s heart twist even more. Before last night he would have admired their commitment. Maybe even been envious of their obviousdevotion. But it now… now he had some inkling of how powerful their love really was. And how rare.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him, her arms sliding around his neck.
“I was only gone a few days.” Iain’s laughter filled the room. “But I missed you as well.”
Ranald cleared his throat. “Not that I dinna appreciate the fact that the two of you canna stand being parted, but I think we have more pressing matters to deal with.”
“Aye,” Iain said, his arm still around his wife. “We came as soon as we got Katherine’s message.”
“Is Ailis not with you?” Katherine asked.
“Nay,” Ranald said. “She’s with my mother. She’s no’ been well, and Ailis wanted to stay until she’s feeling better.”
Bram’s Aunt Ealasaid had always been a favorite and he hated to hear that she was unwell. “Is it something to worry about?” he asked.
“Nay.” Ranald shook his head. “She’s only caught a wee chill. But Ailis insisted on staying.”
“Well then, your mother is a lucky woman. She’ll be in good hands with Ailis.” Katherine smiled.
“That she will,” Ranald agreed. “But of course it means you’ll have to suffer my presence here. I canna imagine going back toTur nan Clachwithout her.” It was no secret that Ranald wasn’t as fond of his wife’s holding as he was of the lady herself.
“So tell me, then,” Iain said, his gaze moving to Bram, “who is this woman you have managed to lose?”
“I dinna know much about her, really. Her name is Lily,” Bram said, leaning forward on a sigh. “And I found her by my fire last night. She got caught in the storm. Soaked to the skin, she was. With a knot on her head the size of a bannock. I took her in. And I took care of her.”
Ranald covered his mouth with his hand and smothered a laugh.
Bram shot him a quelling look, and at least his cousin had the good sense to look chagrinned. “’Twas no’ like that. She was hurt and she needed my help.”
Actually Ranald was right, but he wasn’t about to admit it. God’s truth, he’d taken advantage of Lily, there was no getting around it. Which might explain why she’d run away. But he’d be damned if he’d let her go so easily.
“So when you woke this morning she was gone?” Iain asked, obviously sensing the note of desperation in Bram’s voice.
“Nay. She was there. Sleeping. So I went to get more wood for the fire. And then I heard her call for me. Or at least I thought I did. But when I got back to the cottage, she was gone.”
“Poof,” Ranald said, snapping his fingers. “Like a fairy.”
“That’s no’ funny,” Bram snapped. “Something could have happened to her.”
“I know, lad. I’m no’ making sport of your plight. ’Tis just that the three of us have had some experience with the fairies.” He shot a smile at Katherine, who blushed as Iain grinned.
“Well, if you’re saying that I’m imagining her, I can prove otherwise.” Bram reached into his sporran, removing a piece of folded leather. “I have her slipper. She left it in the cottage.” He held it out and Iain took it.
“’Tis very fine.” He frowned, staring at something on the inside of the sole. “There’s something written here. To-ry Burch,” he read, then looked down at his wife. “Do these words mean something to you?”
Katherine took the slipper from her husband as if needing to see the words for herself. Then with a quiet nod, she sat down, the color draining from her face. “It’s a name. A woman who designs shoes.”
Ranald and Bram moved closer, the four of them staring down at the leather slipper in Katherine’s hand. Bram’s stomach was churning. Something in Katherine’s face made Ranald’s talk of fairies seem suddenly less offhand.
“And this woman,” Iain said, his gaze moving to his wife’s, “this designer—“ He stumbled a bit over the word. “—is she from your world?”
“Yes.” Katherine nodded, handing the slipper back to Iain. “She is.”
