Of course the woman in his brother’s vision had been weeping—Eve would be terrified to be found with child. Hadn’t she gone into hysterics at the mere mention of it? All the pieces fit together…
But it was only a dream. A dream—it meant naught. ’Twas Duncan’s manner to believe in such nonsense, not Conall’s. And he would not allow his brother’s—likely drink-induced—vision to cloud his own logic.
Conall looked up and around the room slowly, his gaze landing on each member of his clan in turn. They were eating and singing and drinking and smiling and making plans.
Was what Conall was witnessingnowlogical, though, considering the years of hardship and loss? Was acurselogical?
He had to return to the hut immediately.
He stood, gestured toward his pack left forgotten by the door. “I’ve brought you venison and rabbit…” he said to Duncan questioningly.
Duncan waved a hand. “Take it, brother. You’ve greater need of it than us.” A grin split his face. “I’ll be paying you a visit soon, you ken?”
“Not yet, Duncan,” Conall warned. “Give me some time to…” He didn’t know how to explain. “Two months, mayhap.”
“Two months!” Duncan screeched and then lowered his voice at Conall’s wince. “Bite me pecker, two months!”
“I beg you, Dunc,” Conall beseeched. “I need you here to look after Mam and the folk.”
Duncan scowled. “You know I will, you great lummox. Fine. Go.” He jumped up and leaned close to Conall’s face. “But I’ll come when I’m good and ready, brother. I’d see my vision in the flesh before the planting.”
Conall picked up his pack and slipped into it quickly, catching Lana’s eye as he did so. She gave him a sad smile and a wave before blowing him a kiss. She knew he was going, and she knew he was in a hurry.
Duncan followed Conall as he slipped out the door into the crisp noon air. Conall turned to look at his brother.
“Best you sober up if you’re to rule in my stead,” Conall teased.
“Bugger you,” Duncan snorted. “Compared to last eve, I’m straight as an arrow.”
Conall laughed and grasped his brother’s arm. “You’ve done well, Dunc. I’ll nae have a worry with you at the reins.”
Duncan’s thin lips quirked and Conall knew his brother was proud. “Hurry up with you. Go on.”
“Take care when you come to the cottage,” Conall called as he began walking backward away from Duncan. “A pack of wolves roams the vale from dusk to dawn—bloodthirsty, queer-acting. Come only in the light.”
Duncan nodded and the smile never left his face.
“I’m nae afraid of wolves, Conall,” he shot back. And then quietly, for his own ears, “Nae afraid of them at all.”
Chapter Twelve
The meager hut was gloomy and dark—only the single flame of a solitary oil lamp lit—and it suited Evelyn’s mood perfectly. She lay on her back on the box bed, staring up at the shadows. Alinor curled against her thigh and Bonnie had folded herself on the floor, while the crow perched on the framework of the bed, his broken wing bandaged close to his body. The bird appeared quite content in his new home, sidestepping the length of the beam from one end to the other, his good wing flapping awkwardly for balance.
Evelyn had barely left the lumpy comfort of the bed since venturing out that morning, stirring only to care for the animals and to vomit once more. Her appetite had completely vanished. Her time was spent waiting for the MacKerrick to return.
She didn’t know if she would throw herself upon him and weep, or kill him on sight.
She was fairly certain she was pregnant. Her worst nightmare had become a reality while she wasn’t looking and when she least expected it. She didn’t know what to think, what to do.
Would this child kill her, leaving him or her with only a father? Would it be an agonizing and painful end for Evelyn, like the tens of tragic births she herself had witnessed?
Would MacKerrick be happy for a child? Would he now take Evelyn to his town for her care?
She didn’t know the answers to any of the questions. She had thought perhaps to pray, but then dismissed the idea with a bitter laugh. God had forsaken her yet again, given her the one cross she had never thought to bear. Her penance for a selfish life.
Mayhap her punishment would at last be over upon her death. Or mayhap she would only be transferred to an eternity in a fiery hell. She took perverse pleasure in her maudlin musings.
Alinor growled, the sound a warm vibration through Evelyn’s body. Then the wolf bounded from the bed, startling a squawk and a pair of black feathers from the bird above. Evelyn rose wearily and scooted from the ticking to her feet, her head pounding. She crossed the hut with dragging steps as MacKerrick rapped and called to her through the door.
