“I—” Abigail didn’t know what to say. She looked over as Ronan, who’d taken her hand. She swept her gaze over all the MacKinnons. “Thank ye.”
The men nodded and resumed eating. Abigail realized she’d said just what the men needed to hear. No flowery speeches or explanations. Just humble gratitude. When Ronan argued he couldn’t eat another bite—after Abigail gave him three rabbits and a squirrel—he fell into a deep sleep. Abigail didn’t think she would sleep, since she was still worried about Ronan. He looked haggard and ill. But he shifted while he slumbered and wrapped his arm around Abigail. Even in his run-down condition, his body heat warmed her against the freezing night air. Between the warmth and the reassurance of having his brawny arm holding her against him, she fell into a deep sleep.
When the sun rose, most of the MacKinnons continued to sleep. Her fears started anew when she slipped away from Ronan, and he never stirred. He was normally such a light sleeper that she couldn’t move across their bed without disturbing him. She found Kieran and tapped her brother’s arm. He embraced Abigail just as he had her entire life. Her heart ached for the years they’d been at odds because of her selfishness and frivolity. She knew Kieran didn’t hold it against her, but she still regretted it. She drew strength from her brother’s solid presence.
“Abigail,” Kieran said as he led her away from where the men sat and slept. “The men told me what they could aboot the planned attack at Dun Ringill. The MacLeods left Dunvegan five days ago, so the battle—if there was one—was two days past. I canna predict what we will find. Ronan and these men may be all that’s left of his guard. The MacLeods could still be there, or they may have left the keep aflame. Ronan’s men thought two score rode out for Dun Ringill. That’s less than our combined numbers now, but Ronan and his men need a full day’s rest at the vera least.”
“I ken, Kieran. They all need a fortnight’s worth of rest and meals, but we dinna have that long. If we arrive and Cormag’s men are still there, can ye roust them and send them off?”
“Likely. But I doubt they’ll leave whether we chase them or give them the chance to leave. They’ll have orders nae to retreat. If they’re there when we arrive, then that’s where they will die. But, Abigail, it’s most likely we will find the village and the keep burned. Ronan will want to lead, and I canna deny him that right. I willna deny him that right. But neither can I stay with the birlinns and make sure ye stay put. Abigail, dinna leave the guards I post with ye until we sweep the castle and are certain there’s nay lingering threat. And neither Ronan nor I would want ye to see the devastation left behind. Please, Abigail. There is little left for me to do as yer aulder brother, but I would shield ye from what ye’re likely to see.”
“I understand, Kieran. I’ll go or stay wherever ye or Ronan tell me. I dinna ken what we should expect, but ma heart breaks for Ronan and his guards.”
“I ken it does. He’ll need ye, lass. Whatever we find, in the days to come, he will need yer support. Ronan was a fine laird before he met ye, but he will be better for having ye at his side. I ken I’m better with Maude at ma side. Ye’ll get through this as partners. Ye’re a MacKinnon now, Abigail, but ye’re always a MacLeod of Lewis. Dinna think that because ye sought our help once, ye canna do it again.”
“Thank ye, Kieran. I love ye, even if ye’re auld and crotchety.”
“I love ye, Gail.” Kieran winked as he used his childhood pet name for his sister. He’d called her Gail for the first two years of her life until he could say Abigail. She had no memory of it, but Kieran had teased her and said she arrived like a gale, so that’s why he thought it was her name. She returned to Ronan’s side, concerned that he still hadn’t stirred. She roused him to eat several times throughout the day since the MacLeods hunted as much as they could find during the middle of winter. All the MacKinnons benefited from the extra food. Two nights and a full day of rest revived Ronan and his men. It mesmerized Abigail to see the MacKinnons board the birlinns as though they hadn’t just recovered from near starvation. They took their turns at the oars as they continued south to Dun Ringill.
* * *
“That’s Spar Cave,” Ronan murmured against Abigail’s ear as he pointed to a rock formation just inside the mouth of Loch Slapin. “And there, if you squint against the sun, is our home.”
Ronan kissed Abigail’s cheek before she turned a warm smile toward Ronan. After her initial surprise wore off from Ronan’s rapid recuperation, Abigail enjoyed watching her husband’s brawny back and shoulders strain when he sat to row. He took his turn as they progressed south toward her new home. But a MacKinnon took his place as they rounded the headland and entered the last stretch of their journey. Ronan joined Abigail at the rail and pointed out various land features.
Snow fell throughout the day, so Abigail welcomed the protection from the freezing wind when Ronan wrapped his arms around her. His plaid was still filthy, but he’d washed the dungeon sludge from his skin. The MacLeods shared spare leines with the MacKinnons, so he no longer felt revolting. With the extra length of wool pulled over his shoulders and head, the wind wasn’t nearly as abrasive as it could be. And holding Abigail always heated his blood.
“What would you have me do when we arrive? I mean, after you are sure I can come up from the docks?”
“I don’t ken for sure. My men and your brother’s will sweep the castle for any Skye warriors who might be lingering. Once I ken it’s safe for you to go inside, I’ll see aboot getting a fire lit in my solar. Then I need to check the village. Abby, it may be several hours before I can come back to you.”
“I ken. Shouldn’t I see aboot having food ready for when you’re finished?”
“Abby—”
“You don’t ken where you might find bodies.”
“Aye. That’s why I want you to go to my solar. It’ll be safe there for you until I ken the full situation.”
Abigail nodded as she looked out toward the west side of the loch that eventually split into Loch Slapin and Loch Eishort. As they drew closer, Abigail was certain she saw fishing boats close to the coast. She glanced back at Ronan and noticed he was as mystified as she was. He glanced down at her and shrugged. When they drew close enough to make out faces, they heard the bells ringing from the battlements on the cliffs.
“That’s not a warning. They recognized us and are welcoming us home.” Ronan’s furrowed brow matched Abigail’s. The fishermen waved to them.
“Ye’re a welcome sight, Laird.” Abigail watched as a white-haired, toothless man grinned at Ronan. “We thought ye ran off with yer bonnie bride and werenae coming back!”
“Linus, what happened with the MacLeods?”
“Ye married one?” Linus looked at the men who didn’t wear MacKinnon plaids.
“Nay. MacLeods of Skye. How many people did we lose?”
“Lose, Laird? Ye arenae making any sense.”
“Wasn’t there an attack four days ago?”
“Nay. Massive snowstorm inland. That’s all. Havenae seen hide nor hair of any MacLeods, except for the ones ye’re with.”
Abigail and Ronan exchanged a glance before Ronan looked back over his shoulder at Kieran, who shrugged. “Linus, what of the keep?”
