She bowed slightly to him. “I apologize, Amos, but I do not need these items. This is the last of them, I promise. I will take some items off your hands, though, to make room. Do you have a few trunks? I mean to give each of the lads their own. And I need more chairs or benches.”
He scoffed. “Ye already took all the chairs that I had. Och, if any come in, I shall set them aside for ye. Come, lads, and help me unload the cart.”
“Amos, you have continued to keep your bargain?”
“Oh, aye, Milady, of course, and each morn when the market opens, I have one of my lads take a basket of foodstuff to the sick. The coins are all accounted for, Milady, and set aside for the purpose. Do ye wish me to send ye the coins?”
“No, no…keep them here. My thanks, Amos, for your help. Lads, find Aymer when you are finished here and return to the longhouse for supper.” Eva waved to the boys and walked at a slower pace back toward the bridge, enjoying the solitude and quiet.
The encampment was silent when she reached it. A crowd gathered near a tarp-covered area and she approached to stand with Harriet. “What has happened?”
The young woman lowered her head. “Gareth is on his deathbed and shall meet his maker soon. Father Murphy has not come to give him last rites yet.”
“Oh, no. I am sorry, Harriet. I know he was your friend.”
Eva prayed for the poor man’s ascension to Heaven. How she wished that Father Murphy received word on how to help the sick. There had to be a cure for their ailment but as yet no word reached them on how they might help or treat them. After a while, Eva decided to leave to give Gareth’s friends privacy for their mourning.
She hurried along and waved to Willa when she reached her cottage. “Good day, Willa.”
Ise-Olcan sprinted toward her and jumped up. Willa shouted for the dog to get down but the dog’s tongue lapped at her and Eva petted her head.
“She is just excited to see me. I am gladdened someone is.” She could’ve laughed at her pitiful remark because her husband still was nowhere to be seen and obviously not eager to see her.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Willa said and ambled toward her. “My daughter-in-law told me that you saved her lad, my grandson, Hamish.”
“Hamish is your grandson? We were chased by a dastardly boar. But it was he who saved me and not the other way around.”
Willa shook her head. “The way he tells it is that ye saved him. Hamish’s parents are mighty grateful for your aid to him. I am sure Deena shall tell ye so when next she sees ye.”
Eva smiled but doubted that. Gideon’s wife all but ignored her whenever she saw her on the other side of the bridge.
She decided to change the subject; she wasn’t interested in talking about herself. She was here about more important things. “I just visited the encampment and learned that Gareth is on his deathbed. The poor man. All the sick gather around him. Father Murphy has not yet arrived but has been called for.”
“Oh, nay, not Gareth.” Willa lowered her head with despair. When she raised it, a shimmer of tears set in her eyes. “I shall go and see him before he passes. My thanks for telling me.”
Eva clasped her hand. “I am sorry, Willa, for the loss of your friend. I shall see you later.” With that, she walked on and entered the church.
Inside, a group of women sat on the benches before the altar. They sang a beautiful melody. Eva was envious of their camaraderie and wished she had friends with whom to sing. In an almost unheard voice, she sang along, knowing the words to the song. When the song ended, without being seen, Eva snuck out of the church and strolled along until she reached the area where the torch was erected. She wondered that if Marian had lived, would she have befriended her?
Eva shook away the sorrowful, woeful mood and viewed her surroundings. Yet as she took in the beauty of the land and waters, the height was treacherous. She wondered why Marian drank poison rather than having just jumped from the ledge. It seemed strange to her but then, she did not know Marian and perhaps the woman wanted to enjoy the view in her last moments.
She stepped back to a nearby tree and sat on the ground. With herhands clasped around her knees, she sighed at the beauty of the place. The sky seemed vast in its pinkish, blueish hues to the bilious clouds that spotted the distance. Eva closed her eyes and prayed for Marian’s salvation, for her father’s good health, for the lad’s patience, and that one day the Buchanans would accept her. One day, she would belong.
Chapter Nineteen
Breckin finished settlinghis horse, speaking with some of the soldiers, and searched for Aymer to gain his report, but the soldier was taking rest. Aymer, according to his brother, Alton, had been on night duty so Breckin decided to find him later.
He walked hastily toward the end of the island and entered the longhouse. He expected to find his brothers inside. They were gone, as was Eva. Silence met him. Breckin gazed about and noted the cleanliness of the floors, the sweet smell of beeswax that shone on the floorboards, and the gleaming table by the kitchen area. Eva had been busy.
He quickly changed his garments and stood in the bedchamber, feeling oddly welcomed. He hadn’t felt so eased but the coziness of the room with the Buchanan tartan covering the large bed, to the sight of items belonging to Eva, assured him that he was home. She even made use of his sister’s trunk which pleased him. Then he remembered that she’d thought the trunk belonged to his betrothed, that Marian was pledged to him. He smiled at her ireful response because that meant she might be beginning to care for him.
He retreated to the outside, intending to find his wife. His first thought was to kiss her until she was breathless because he’d missed her, his second was to find out how she’d fared whilst he was gone. Then he’d search for his brothers. He wassomewhat irate that they had disobeyed and hadn’t stayed in the longhouse as he’d bade. Now his punishment for them would be harsher. If only he could come up with a reprimand that expressed the seriousness of their misconduct. He would think of something—he usually did.
As he walked about the island, he greeted his clan’s people. They seemed remarkably cheerful, a strange occurrence because they were not the cheery sort. Nevertheless, he ambled onward and when he got to the bridge, he stopped to talk to Aymer who’d returned to his post.
“Welcome home, Laird.” Aymer closed the gate to a small corral where three horses nibbled at the grass.
“Ye were on duty late? When I returned, ye were asleep so I thought I would catch up with ye… I assume there is naught to report?”
