“If she was, at least she seemed to be a kindly one.” He gently set her aside and rose to his feet, taking care to wrap the blankets tighter around her. “I shall look around, aye? Stay here.”
“Look around for what?” Panic turned her voice into a high-pitched squeak. She hated it but couldn’t control it. “’Tis all of it gone. All of it.”
“Nay, notallof it.”
“What?” She stared up at him, then hurried to stand and see what had caught his attention.
“The sledge is filled with a great deal more than we packed atTor Ruadh.It holds at least twice as much as it did. Maybe three times, even.” He eased toward the sled that waited at the base of the pine.
Marianna started to join him but then stopped and stared at the ground. “Evander, the snow.”
Evander looked back at her. “What about the snow?”
“’Tis barely deep enough to give the ground a good covering.” She strode out from under the trees, still clutching the blankets tight around her. The thin layer of snow wasn’t any deeper in the center of the clearing. A bright blue sky greeted her gaze, and sunshine sparkled across the icy crust of the wintry whiteness, making it seem like a blanket of diamonds. “It isna deep anywhere. Where are the drifts? Even here in the wood, the snow was deeper than this last night. I remember struggling through it when I fetched supplies from the sled.”
“Come see the sledge.” His tone paired with the leeriness in his face, tensed her even more.
She hurried to his side. The thing was piled high with such a bountiful load, she wondered if her horse could pull it. Then she saw it and caught her breath. Firmly tucked in where the ropes crossed was the largest white feather she had ever seen. She started to pluck it out, then drew back her hand, too afraid to touch it. “I dinna think she was a witch, Evander.”
“Nay, love,” he said in a hushed tone as he hugged her to his side. “Not a witch at all.”
“What should we do?”
With his gaze still locked on the feather, he tipped his head to match the slant of his brow. “Take the MacGougans what they need, I reckon.”
“Aye.” But they both stood there, staring at the feather, its pristine white tip barely fluttering in the gentle breeze. Marianna reached for it again, but just as she was about to pluck it from the ropes, a gust of wind tugged it free and twirled it up into the sky. “It’s gone,” she whispered, suddenly missing the sweet old lady and her cat.
“It may be gone,” Evander said as he stared upward. “But we need no proof. We have the memory of last night.”
“If we speak of it to anyone, they’ll think us barmy.” She moved in a slow circle, looking around the winter woods that had changed so much from yesterday. Whirling about, she shook a finger at him. “Swear we speak of this to no one.”
He hooked a finger with hers. “I swear.”
“No one, now,” she warned. “Not even the MacCoinnich or yer brothers.”
His finger tightened and bobbed their linked hands up and down. “Not even our bairns when we have them.”
“Bairns,” she repeated, losing herself in those deep brown eyes that had always made her feel so loved and wanted. Even when they had fought as if they hated each other, his soulful eyes had always said otherwise.
“Aye, bairns,” he said softly, taking hold of her messy braid and sliding it through his fingers. “Daughters with hair as silky and golden as their lovely mother’s.”
“And sons as tall and broad-shouldered as their father.” Then she added with a smile, “And hair as ruddy as a Highland coo.”
The yearning to tarry in this special place filled her, but the urgency of their assigned task nudged at her conscience. She rested her hands on his chest and tiptoed up for a quick kiss. “I fear we must leave our magical woods now. The poor MacGougans need us.”
“Aye, that they do.” Reluctantly, he stepped away, then headed back to roll up their pallets and secure them onto the sled.
Marianna fetched a couple of oatcakes from the bag tied to her saddle, smiling as she paused and looked down at the rough brown rounds that amounted to nothing more than baked parritch. Last night, she had planned to treat Mistress Hanna with a breakfast of fried bread since the old woman had relished it so.
“An oatcake for ye.” She handed it to Evander, then drew out two loaves of the crude bread made with beans, peas, and a variety of grains to sustain the horses for the journey ahead. “Will we reach the MacGougans today?”
Evander snorted, then grinned. “Aye. Easily since the snow doesna appear to be near as deep as it was.”
“While the horses finish their breakfast, I’ll take care of my morning necessities and then be ready to go.” She hurried behind a secluded cluster of small pines. Ablutions didn’t take long. The snow might not be nearly as deep and treacherous, but the wind still possessed an icy bite that nipped at her backside.
When she returned, Evander lifted her up into the saddle. “I could probably use the stirrups, ye ken? My mount is nay as tall as yer own.”
“Ye’re my lady and shouldna have to use the stirrups.” He climbed into his saddle and urged his horse forward, then glanced back and eyed hers. “Yer beast may struggle with the weight of the sledge now.”
