"Maeve," he said, speaking like a man in prayer. "Come and meet… me sister. Meet Neala."
His love moved close and held out a hand in greeting. "Neala. Me name is Maeve O'Sullivan."
Neala turned and, to both Cailean and Maeve's surprise, threw her arms around Maeve too. Maeve blinked but then laughed, returning the embrace.
"Are ye his wife?" Neala asked when the two women pulled apart.
To Cailean's delight, Maeve's cheeks tinged pink, and she nodded, telling Neala briefly of their handfasting.
Neala smiled and said, "Then ye're me sister as well. Thank ye for comin' for me." She hesitated, then added. "Is what Ansel said true? Was–was James O'Sullivan yer…"
A shadow crossed Maeve's expression, and she looked away for just a moment. "Me father, aye," she replied.
Neala's smile faded. "I'm sorry, then. I was there when it happened. I saw?—"
Maeve shook her head. "He was me father, aye. But he was nae the kind of father any lass would miss."
It was more complicated than that, Cailean knew. It would take many long nights of thinking and processing, and perhaps conversations between Maeve and Breana before this new wound could be healed. But for now, he admired Maeve's strength as she shook off the shadow and took Neala's hand in hers once more.
"Welcome home, sister," Maeve said. "Welcome home."
Cailean wiped his face and looked up at the castle in front of them. It stood proud and tall in the sunlight after the storm, not quite the same as it once was, but still McNair Castle at his heart. Perhaps things had changed in twenty years—but then again, so had he.
But now he was home. He had his sister with him. He had Maeve by his side.
It had been two decades in the making. But the very soul of Scotland seemed to let out a fresh, breath. Because at long last, the McNairs had returned.
Neala clung tightly to her brother's hand in her right and her newfound sister-in-law's hand in her left as they led her through the doors and into the newly reclaimed McNair Castle. Her heart felt like a rabbit's as she entered the great hall, which smelled of the most delicious food put together even in such a short time.
Silence fell as the three of them entered, then whispers started around them. Neala picked up her name being murmured around more than once.
And then, to her utter shock, the whole hall erupted into a great cheer.
Cailean held up their joined hands. "Friends! A great victory has been won today!" he announced, his voice easily carrying even over the din. "We have reclaimed McNair Castle from the False King. And me sister, Neala McNair, has returned!"
The cheers grew louder. Two people made their way over slowly, one man and one woman. It was clear at a glance, despite their different appearances, that the woman was Maeve's sister. She supported the man, who looked pale and was leaning heavily on her shoulder. He had dark auburn hair, a friendly freckled face, and a smile broke across it as he saw her.
"I kent we'd find ye," the man said. "Though ye need nae have sent us on a journey."
"Eoin," the woman chided gently. "She's overwhelmed. Dinnae tease."
"A–a journey?" Neala asked, looking at the man's bandaged chest with concern.
Maeve squeezed her hand. "This is me sister, Breana, and me dear friend, Eoin Darach."
"Ann's friend?" Neala asked. "I've heard them speak of ye, I?—"
Her blood froze as she suddenly realized. In all the chaos, she'd almost forgotten.
"Ann! Cailean, the False King, he has them, they're his prisoners. Ann, and–and Morag?—"
"It's all right," Cailean told her gently. "We ken. We're workin' on a way tae save them. Dinnae worry. The False King willnae have them for long."
Eoin nodded. "And the Sparrows ken as well. Laura received yer friend's letter; that's how we kent tae get back here so fast."
Neala gasped. "Laura! Ye've seen her?"
"Aye, an' Catriona an' Iona an' some of the others as well," Breana replied. "It seems ye're well-loved. We traveled tae the convent tae return ye tae yer family, but we learned that ye've already got sisters who love ye just as fiercely."
