“The laird sent some Christmas decorations fur the hoose,” he said, removing his cap and running a hand through his hair.
“We’re staying?” I asked cautiously.
“Fur now.”
I smiled.
Sassunnach or wolf, I didn’t know which part of him had swayed my uncle—but I was grateful he’d persevered.
My aunt opened the box and began laying the contents out: candles, ribbons, ornate holders, sprigs of holly and ivy.
“He said nobody will work on Christmas Day,” Callum added gruffly.
My eyes widened at that.
He would openly call Christmas a day of rest? No man, woman, or child was spared their labour on Christmas Day.
“We can bake some Yule bread this year,” Aunt Flora murmured, pressing a candle to her chest.“This wuz kind o’him.”
My uncle grunted, but his eyes stayed on me.
“Ah’ll huv a word wae Ranald,” he said.
“Thank ye, Uncle Callum,” I said, standing to hug him.
We didn’t do it often enough.
He hesitated—just a beat—before his arms came around my shoulders. I felt him kiss the top of my head.
“Aww. You’s are goin tae make me bawl,” Aunt Flora said.
? ? ?
Years ago, when time had been kinder, we had celebrated Hogmanay. But seeing the children’s excitement for Christmas now felt like a balm laid gently over my heart.
The day was spent cleaning and decorating the house. I’d taken Angus and Hamish with me to gather evergreen branches to lay above the hearth.
Ranald still wouldn’t speak to me. He’d declined to join us.
Another night followed—restless and aching without Thaddeus. Madadh grew more agitated, circling and pacing within me. She remained quiet, though. She could feel my pain.
The steady presence of her was a reminder that the days and nights in the cottage had been real.
The bond was real.
“Are ye awake?” Ranald asked softly.
“Aye,” I whispered back.
Moire stirred beside me. I reached out, patting her shoulder until she settled again.
“Ah didnae mean what I said,” Ranald murmured, his voice thick with regret.“I cannae even remember what they look like.”
I turned my head toward him, but his pallet lay swallowed by shadow.
“Da looked awffie like Uncle Callum,” I began.“Màthair…”
My voice broke.
