Did they nae hear Callum’s mither’s screams? Did they nae want to help?
But even as she thought it, she flashed back to only a few days ago – the blood, the agony, the death. Could she have blamed anyone who took their family and ran from the attack on Kinnear? Had she herself not insisted that Myrna did the same thing?
“These people arenae villains for protecting themselves,” she mused. “But it’s so, so sad.”
Ivor reached out and took her hand. “When we get ye to yer uncle, ye can help make it better. This is MacDonnell land. The Laird can help.”
Eithne nodded mutely. She remembered something that her father used to say when he was stuck in a tight spot, and she murmured it now. “The only way out is forward.”
Ivor squeezed her hand in response.
“There it is!” Callum cried out, pointing. Ahead of them sat a once-pretty little cottage, its door hanging from the hinge where it had clearly been forced open. Callum wriggled as if to get down from Aibreann’s back and run inside, but Ivor put up a hand to stop him.
“Wait, lad,” Ivor said. “I’ll go in and see if yer pup is there. Ye stay here with Eithne, aye?”
Eithne understood. If the story Callum had shared with them was accurate, there was no way for him to get back into his home without seeing the bodies of his parents in whatever state Rory MacDuff’s men had left them. Her blood boiled in rage and agony, pictures of her own dead mother flooding her mind.
“I want to go in,” Callum protested.
Eithne glanced around. A little patch of grass in the distance saved her, and she said, “Nay, Callum. I’ll tell ye; I’ve nae had a flower for me hair in some time. Why dinnae we let Ivor go in and fetch yer dog, and ye can go over there and see if ye can fetch me a nice daisy or thistle?”
Callum’s eyes brightened. “All right, then,” he said. Eithne helped him down from the horse, and he hurried over to the patch of grass. Ivor smiled gratefully at Eithne, kissed her forehead, then disappeared inside.
Eithne patted Aibreann’s neck while she waited. “Ye’ve been a perfect lass, pet,” she whispered to the horse. “Ye must be tired. Dinnae worry, the journey’s nearly done now. Then ye’ll get a nice rest before ye have to go anywhere.”
Aibreann nickered in response. A few moments later, Callum came running over. “Look, Miss Eithne! Daisies, like ye wanted!”
He handed her a crumpled handful of the little white weeds, and Eithne took them with all the wonder of a parent being handed their first child. “Och, Callum, they’re fair bonny,” she said. She rooted around in the dirty mess for a moment until she found one with almost all of its petals intact.
“Are ye gonnae wear it in yer hair?” he asked excitedly.
She smiled and affixed it under a strand of her dark hair, pleased when she saw how his eyes lit up. She remembered how her mother had taught her and Myrna how to make little chains and crowns out of daisies, and a pulse of bittersweet emotion threatened to overtake her. “It’s grand,” she said. “The grandest hair ornament I’ve ever had in me life.”
Callum grinned, and when he did, she noticed he had a few teeth missing. It was very sweet to look at, but it hurt to remember just how young this boy really was.
Just then, Ivor walked out of the little cottage. He met Eithne’s eyes and grimly shook his head. Eithne shuddered – whatever he’d seen of the poor lad’s parents, it couldn’t have been a pretty sight.
But then the little bundle in his arm moved, and a tiny black nose popped out from under the blanket. Callum cried out in joy and ran forward, and Ivor deposited the bundle in the boy’s grasping arms.
“Mossie!” Callum crooned. The blanket fell away, and the tiny grey puppy answered him with little high-pitched squeaks. “Mossie, I promised I wouldnae leave ye.”
“He was waiting for ye,” Ivor said. Eithne noticed the smile on his face, and it filled her heart with warmth. This was a good man – a very good man – and she knew that, no matter what happened next, knowing him had made her better.
“Thankye,” Callum said enthusiastically, clinging to the puppy.
“Ye’re welcome, son,” Ivor replied. “Now, will ye come with us to Laird MacDonnell?”
Callum nodded, and soon they were off, headed for Eithne’s home and her family at last.
At some point during the walk back along the winding road toward the central keep, Callum fell asleep. Rather than leaving him on Aibreann’s back as they traveled, Ivor carried him in his arms. The tiny puppy was curled up asleep, tucked securely just inside Ivor’s shirt.
“Ye look awfully natural carrying that bairn,” Eithne teased. “I would never have guessed ye as a family man.”
Ivor winked at her. “I’m full of surprises, I suppose,” he said. He smiled at the sleeping boy in his arms and said, “I always wanted a couple of bairns of me own, ye ken.”
Eithne’s heart felt like it stopped in her chest, but she did her best to keep smiling as she said, “Oh aye?”
“Aye,” Ivor replied. “A lad and a lass, one of each. I’d be a good faither to them, I think – well, in another life.”
