“I think ye have an admirer,”Theodore muttered, his eyes flicking to the young lad gripping Madison’s hand with an intensity . His voice held a sharp edge, though it wasn’t unkind.
The lad puffedhis chest out with pride. Madison turned to George and knelt next to him, her tone softening despite herself.
“It was fun fishin’with ye, thank ye for showin’ me how it was done.”
“But we dinnae catch anythin’.Ye cannae go till we do,” George protested as he grabbed hold of Madison’s hand.
Madison archedan eyebrow and gave a small, amused shake of her head. “What if I promise to come back another time? Will ye let me go then?”
The boy’sgaze burned with an almost desperate admiration, his eyes wide and full of a child’s deep, unspoken need for affection. It was as if he had been starved of it, raised by Sister Marget, who undoubtedly cared for him but in a way that could never quite replace the touch of a woman’s kindness.
“Do ye swear by the sea?”George asked as his grip tightened around her wrist.
“Nay,”she answered. “But I promise on me word. And may the Laird be me witness.”
Both shot a glance at Theodore.He stood tall, his posture straight, as if his presence alone could silence the world around them. He gave a slow, deliberate nod, confirming the oath, his expression unreadable.
“I shall see her safely returned,”Theodore said, his tone firm, brooking no argument, even though he was making a request. “But ye must do somethin’ for me.”
George’s brow furrowed.“And what’s that?”
“If anythin’should happen here, ye will be the one to come and fetch me,” Theodore stated. “I put ye in charge of Sister Marget’s care. Can ye do that for me? Can ye watch over her and the others until I return with yer lady ?”
.
The boy hesitated,his eyes shifting around at the other children, his mind turning the weight of responsibility over. The air between them thickened with the quiet authority Theodore wielded. After a moment’s consideration, George squared his shoulders and, as serious as any eight-year-old could manage, nodded.
“Aye,”he said, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a deep sense of resolve.
“Then we shall cross paths again,”Theodore said and took Madison’s hand. “Come. The hour is growin’ late, and we’ve disrupted Sister Marget’s schedule as it is.”
Madison followedTheodore along the trail heading to the kirk, , her mind still lingering on the boy’s solemn promise. She glanced over, noticing their horse grazing alone in the field. Thepeace of the place was palpable—quiet and serene, the sort of life she had longed for. But there was still something missing. She didn’t need to ask what it was. The emptiness in her heart would not be filled without her family, the faces she missed with every breath she took.
“Here we are now,”Theodore said bringing the horse over to her. “Up ye go.”
His fingers curledaround her hips as he helped her up into the saddle. And as Theodore settled behind her, Madison understood something simple and terrifying and true. The safest place for her to be wasn’t behind a locked door or under any roof. It was there, in his arms, by his side.
“Here we are now,”Theodore’s voice cut through her thoughts as he led the horse toward her. “Up ye go.”
His hands weresteady and firm as they curled around her hips, helping her into the saddle. As he settled behind her, the weight of his presence a solid wall at her back, Madison understood something simple, terrifying, and true. The safest place for her wasn’t behind a locked door or under any roof. It was here, in his arms, by his side.
16
“That’s nae good,” Theodore said as thunder clapped overhead. The horse’s gate faltered a moment before it picked up speed. Madison’s sharp gasp at the horse’s sudden bolt pricked his ears. He didn’t like the fact she’d been frightened, but more so they were about to trapped in the squall.
The salty airkicked up around them as the sand started stinging Theodore’s face. In a wild rush of force, the wind brought with it the rain. Each stride of the horse’s gait caused the rain to feel like needles pricking his face. Madison cowered into the nook of his arm, trying to shield herself from the pain.
There wasno way of knowing when it would let up. Theodore could hope it would be a short storm, one that he could easily break out of any moment. But at the same time there he couldn’t have Madison continue to endure the stinging rain.
“Come on ye mule,”Theodore grumbled to his horse as it trekked through the wet sand. The horse was growing tired as the sea came to lick it’s legs.
“Theodore,”Madison called, her voice rising over the turbulent sea. He looked at the sea water lapping at the sandy shore. The water clawed and pulled the sand back as if it were jewels to be horded.
“Well that’s concernin’,”he muttered, hoping the howling winds masked his words. He pulled on the reins, forcing the horse further inland. Still, the ocean came for them, stretching and slamming against the shore every so greedily. “There’s a cave just over this ridge,” Theodore shouted over the violent waves threatening to take the very sand out from under them. The horse drove onward, knowing its very life hung in the security of its strength.
“Well done,”Theodore said as the breached the top of the ridge as the wave lapped the shore behind them. He patted his horse on the neck and dismounted. Taking the reins, he led the horse and Madison to the cave. The storm echoed and bounced about the inside of the cave, but at least they were out of it.
“I’ll tryto get a fire goin',” Theodore stated as he helped Madison from the horse. She looked as white as a ghost. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, forcing circulation and warmth. But he knew the only way to get color back in her was to get a fire started.
