With the spell broken, Alex pointed to the work they’d done. “We’ve made good progress on the foundation. Better than I’d hoped. And the outer wall should be completed before the end of winter.”
She was acutely aware of his presence beside her. Once, he might have put his arm around her, warming her body with his cloak. Instead, he kept a careful distance.
“What we build here will be stronger than it was before,” Alex was saying.
“I hope so.”
The brief shadow of uncertainty passed over his face. Though no one could fault his efforts, they both knew that the people didn’t want to rebuild the fortress in stone.
“We need to be safe from invasion,” he continued. “And I think it’s time we sent Mairin and Adaira off to be fostered. We’ve waited too long already.”
She went cold at his words, though she’d known the time would come. The girls needed an education and the chance to build ties to other prominent families. It could one day lead to marriage alliances. But the thought of sending them away made her heart bleed. “Adaira is just a bairn.”
“Do you want them here if Harkirk attacks again? It’s too grave a risk.” His hands tightened at his sides. “I don’t want them hurt.”
So that was why he was suggesting it now. Although he was right about their safety, the idea of sending her daughters away was like cutting off her arms. “They’re so young.”
“We could send them farther north to the Orkney Islands,” he offered. “My cousin and the Sinclairs would take them. They’d be safe from the English raids.” His face darkened at the mention of their enemy. “This war isn’t over yet.”
Laren could hardly see, for her eyes were blurred with tears. “I’d rather wait until the spring. The journey would be safer for them.”
“And what if we’re attacked in the meantime?”
She understood the danger, but she remained obstinate. “I want to spend these last few months with them.”
“You need to consider what’s best,” he argued. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head.”
“And what if I am?” she shot back. “Why should I be so eager to send my girls away?” Her stomach hurt at the thought of being so alone.
“Because you don’t want them to die.” His voice held ice, with no sympathy at all. “We have to protect them.”
Laren said nothing, trying to blot away the searing memories. It had been almost three years now, but she hadn’t let herself grieve. She’d locked away the pain of her son, forcing herself to think of the children who were alive and needed her.
“In the spring,” she repeated. “Let me have this last winter with the girls.”
He let go of her hand. “I’ll make no promises. If there’s even a sign of danger, they go.”
She supposed that was the best she could do. “All right.” Glancing around, she said, “Do you want me to see about a meal for the men?”
“I think Nairna has already organized it.”
When Laren looked over at her sister-in-law, she saw that Alex was right. The women were busy cutting up mutton, while others were starting to set up hearth fires for cooking.
“I’ll see what I can do to help them, then,” she said, starting to move away from him.
“Laren,” he interrupted. “Tonight, when I speak to the men, perhaps you could address the women. Hear their concerns and tell me what it is they’re thinking.”
“I can’t,” she answered immediately.
“I’m not asking you to speak to them,” he reiterated. “Only to hear them. I don’t think that’s too difficult.”
In his eyes, she saw the fervent wish that she would suddenly cast off her shyness and become someone else. Someone strong, who didn’t hide herself away.
She closed her eyes, wishing she had the strength to try.
January, 1303
The tiny body was cold and rigid within the grave. Her son, her beloved David, was gone.
