“Well, he came up to me and showed me how to correct me stance because I was doing it wrong,” Eithne replied with a grin. “And he said that if I were gonnae behave in such a manner, I’d be as well doing it properly.”
Myrna laughed, and Ivor smiled. He’d only met the Laird a few times, but he’d been a good man, and Killian had adored him. He had earned Ivor’s respect, and it felt good to hear his daughters speak of his memory with fondness.
Eithne spoke a little about Neal, of how he’d died saving her life, of how he’d been her best friend since childhood. Ivor had half-expected to get jealous hearing about him, but he felt nothing but affection for the boy who had given everything to protect Eithne.
And then came the part he was awaiting and dreading. Myrna went first, talking about how Killian, despite being so much older than her, had always gone out of his way to be a loving brother. She talked about him in the same way that Killian had once spoken to Ivor about the Laird – with adoration and near awe.
Eithne hugged Myrna tight when her speech was over, and everyone drank, then turned to the front, ready to speak. “Killian…” she started. Then her voice seemed to catch. She swallowed and tried again. “Me brother, Killian…”
She caught Ivor’s eye across the room, looking scared and lost, and Ivor suddenly realized what he had to do. He stood, drawing all the eyes of the men in the room toward him, and walked over to where she stood. He took her hand in his and said, “Killian was an exceptional man, and nae words could encapsulate what he meant to Eithne.” He hesitated. “Or to me. But I’m gonnae try anyway.”
Eithne squeezed his hand, and he knew that he was doing the right thing. He remembered that grief, that overwhelming pain that made speaking impossible. The least he could do was to help her through this.
He glanced at Myrna, who nodded at him and encouragingly smiled through watery eyes. He hoped Killian didn’t mind him speaking his eulogy. He hoped Killian understood why his own sister couldn’t go on.
“Killian was me best friend since I was only a lad,” Ivor said. “I dinnae have time to speak of all the trouble we got into and out of, or all the kindnesses he showed me in those years. He kent I was just a mercenary bairn with naewhere else to go, and he never tried to keep me. He let me go, kenning I’d come back.”
He closed his eyes, picturing his friend the last time he saw him – laughing, waving him off, telling him that he’d see him soon.
Och, Killian.
“I loved him as much as any man ever loved a brother,” he said. “He was more than a friend – he was family. Everything these good lassies have said about their parents, all the good parts, he had the best bits of both of them. He was good and kind, and he loved his sisters more than anything.”
He tightened his hand around Eithne’s and caught Myrna’s eyes again as he said, “He didnae want to die. But I think he’d have been happy to ken that his two sisters, at least, keep living. He loved them both more than anything.”
“And we loved him,” Myrna replied.
“And we loved him,” Eithne echoed. She held up her whiskey with her free hand. “To Killian,” she said, sobbing openly.
“To Killian,” everyone else replied, raising their glasses in return.
Ivor swallowed, a painful lump in his throat as he downed his own drink. It burned, and as it did, he felt himself begin to heal.
Goodbye, me friend,he thought one last time.Goodbye.
* * *
Myrna and Eithne went on ahead with their family, and Ivor parted from them, both to give them privacy and to go to check on Callum. He’d been here in MacDonnell only a couple of days, but he was beginning to feel a lot of affection for the boy. No potential adoptive families had come up yet, and Ivor was beginning to think he might just take the boy along himself.
How much she’s changed me. I wouldnae be considering such a thing just a few short weeks ago.
Sure enough, he found Callum in one of the sitting rooms, sleeping heavily with Mossie on his chest and his doll, which Eithne had fixed up for him, in his arms. Ivor sighed affectionately, then went to pick the boy up in his arms to carry him to the bedroom they shared. The pup stirred, but when he recognized Ivor’s scent, he went right back to sleep.
Ivor walked along the hallway to the stairs and was surprised when he ran into Jonah. “Oh,” he said. “Watch where ye’re going, lad. I fair nearly had yer head off.”
Jonah was looking at him with the strangest, most unfathomable expression on his face. “Ye’ve bonded with that lad,” he said.
“Aye,” Ivor replied. “Naebody deserves to lose their family. Me and Eithne both care for him, and I promised him I’d keep him safe.”
For some reason, this just made Jonah look even more troubled. “Yer speech at the funeral…ye meant everything ye said? Did ye really ken Eithne and Myrna’s brother so well?”
“I did,” Ivor told him. “I was in a dark place when I met Killian. He taught me there are more options to life than being a ruthless murderer for coin. He taught me how to live again after I’d lost everything.”
Jonah blinked at him, then looked at the ground. “None of this makes any sense. Ye’re nae like he said ye were.”
“Like who said I was?” Ivor asked, not even sure if he’d heard the young man correctly.
But Jonah didn’t answer at all. He mumbled some excuse and then ran off, leaving Ivor alone with the boy, the puppy, and a million questions he didn’t know how to begin to address.
