But the horse headed onward as if pulling nothing at all. Marianna wondered if Mistress Hanna’s strange magic was still at work. From Evander’s puckered expression, she could tell he wondered that as well. “I think we would be better off if we didna question it. Just be thankful, aye?”
“Aye,” he said, resettling himself on his mount with an uneasy roll of his shoulders.
They skimmed through the snowy wood, then headed down a gentle slope into a peaceful glen. A small herd of red deer gathering to drink from a swiftly moving burn started at their approach and bounded away.
“I wish them a merry Yule,” Evander called out as they trotted along. “Thanks to Mistress Hanna’s generosity, there is no need for hunting.”
Even though she appreciated a well-roasted venison, Marianna felt a gladness that the deer had gone their way unharmed. It seemed fitting for the occasion. A sliver of smoke rising up from a stand of trees on the far side of the glen caught her attention. “Is that the MacGougan’s place?”
Evander nodded, his smile bright and the copper of his hair gleaming in the brilliance of the sunny day. “Aye. I hadn’t thought it this close, but I guess we traveled farther through the storm than I thought.”
As they neared the cluster of several small structures, peals of laughter and children’s shouts filled the air.
“We have been spotted,” Evander said, adding his laugh to theirs.
They pulled into the clearing in front of the largest of the buildings, a modest stone cottage with a thatched roof. Immediately, children and dogs swarmed them. A woman with a babe in arms smiled from the bright red doorway, while two men emerged from a small round outbuilding with smoke billowing from the point of its conical roof. When Marianna spotted the men toting ceramic jugs, she knew the building housed the family still.
“About time ye got here!” sang out the heavier of the two men. He lifted a jug as if in a toast and gave them a jolly grin. “Ye should be ashamed of yerselves. Late in celebrating Yule with us and yer own wedding?”
“What did he say?” Marianna asked as Evander helped her down from the saddle.
“Late for Yule. And our own wedding?” Evander’s reddish brows arched to his hairline.
Thankfully, the rush of children clamoring for treats prevented any additional comments. Marianna clapped and held up her hands. “Help us carry everything inside and then, if yer Mama permits, ye may each have one treat before yer supper.”
“A fine goose is roasting!” one of the six wee ones announced. At least Marianna thought she had counted six. With all of them jumping about and varying only a little in height, it was hard to tell.
“A goose? That sounds fine indeed.” She loaded the energetic mites’ arms with parcels, then filled her own and followed.
“I be Beulah MacGougan.” The woman in the doorway nodded, balancing the baby on one hip as she held the door. “Fetch the rest, lads,” she told the herd of children, shooing them back outside. With a wave toward the hearth, she gave Marianna another welcoming smile. “Come and sit. Warm yerself, mistress.”
“Surely, ye need me to help with something.” Marianna glanced around the small dwelling filled with the mouth-watering aromas of roasting goose, freshly baked bread, and a pleasing array of spices. Sage, clove, rosemary, to name a few. And the slightest hint of freshness came from evergreen boughs decorating the mantel and hung above the windows and door. The MacCoinnich had led her to believe these people were poor and wanting, but nothing she saw confirmed that at all. Aye, the place was a tiny home for so many, but it was clean as could be, and the bairns were happy and well behaved.
“People think we have little,” Beulah said as if reading her mind. She placed the babe into a cradle in the corner, then went to the fire and basted the glistening brown skin of the roasting goose with a bundle of herbs dipped in something in a wooden bowl. “And ’tis true. We have verra little. But we are blessed with everything we need. And for that, we are thankful.” She set the bowl on a ledge beside the stone hearth and wiped her hands on her apron. “We thought surely we would see ye yesterday morning. Father Henry arrived two days before to make certain he could marry ye the day after Christmas.”
An eerie tingling rippled through the hairs on the back of her neck, standing each of them on end. Marianna lowered herself to the bench beside the table. “Marry us?”
Beulah gave her a quizzical glance as she set a platter of carrots on the table and started scraping them. “Aye. Marry ye. Is that fine-looking gentleman not yer betrothed?”
Marianna opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. At a complete loss for a proper response. Finally, she gave a smiling nod and rose, unbuttoned her cloak, and hung it on a peg beside the door. “Aye. Evander is his name. I am Marianna.”
“Aye, we know that.” Beulah chuckled and set the scraped carrots aside. She rose and gathered the parsnips piled on the counter under the window. With a glance back, she tipped her head toward the door. “Father Henry’s paper gave yer names to us.”
The children poured back inside but immediately quietened down after a warning glance from their mother. “Yer treats are on the sideboard there. One each and then up to the loft with ye ’til yer called for supper, aye?”
“They already had treats?” Marianna watched the little ones file by the shelf beside the hearth, select a small cloth-wrapped bundle, then scramble up the wooden ladder to the loft.
“Aye, Father Henry brought them little cakes all the way from Fort William. Told the lads they could have them soon as the bride and groom arrived.” Beulah laughed and shook her head. “They’ve been a watching for ye night and day. Didna think ye would ever get here so they could have their wee fairy treats, as he called them.”
“The storm delayed us,” Marianna said, more confused by the minute.
“What storm?” Beulah rose and added the vegetables to a pot simmering over the fire beside the goose. “It’s been fair as could be here.”
“A snowstorm. Ye ken how it can sometimes storm up higher. On the mountain. Ben Nevis. Higher up.” Heaven help her, she sounded like a babbling eedjit. And where was Evander? Outside, with the men testing their brew, no doubt. He should be in here answering some of these questions.
Beulah came over and gave her a quick hug. “Dinna be nervous, lass.” She glanced toward the loft, then leaned in close again. “After the first time,” she whispered, “it can be verra nice indeed.” With a smug look, she rested a hand on her barely rounded stomach. “Trust me. I’ve had a bairn on the way for the past eight years because of that man of mine and the way he makes me feel.” She laughed, handed the little one in the cradle a carved wooden horse, then straightened and rubbed her back. “Soon as I birth one, he gets me with another.”
The woman had no idea that childbearing or the act that caused it was not the source of Marianna’s confusion. It was about her and Evander marrying. And the priest expecting them. Came to meet them, in fact.
