Page 91 of Edge of Yesterday

“Aye,” Lennox agreed. “But there is just as good a chance that he will be.”

“Do ye think he knows your friend Valdar Ross?” Julianna kept her attention on Cailean.

He shook his head. “Nae.”

Her brow furrowed. “Then why do you want to see him?”

“I am curious why and how he got Heatheredge to atone for their wrong toward Lady Elizabeth.”

“Did ye know her?” Julianna waited, her face so innocent, as if she truly believed he might have met the woman.

In his life, Lady Elizabeth had been long dead. Just like Julianna, her family and friends. Cailean thought of Lady Morgana, the modern Englishwoman who’d played the part of Lady Elizabeth. “Nae. I never met her.”

“If ye wanted to know what happened with Father Andrew, ye could have asked Lennox,” Julianna said. “He was there.”

Cailean shifted his gaze past Julianna to Lennox. “Is that true?”

Lennox shot his sister a dark glance. Cailean knew that look. A brother peeved with his sister. Sorrow sliced his chest as Ginny’s face flashed across his mind. By now, she would be worried sick about him. When he returned home, how would he explain his disappearance?

“Aye,” Lennox was saying, “I was there.”

Cailean looked sharply at him. “Why didn’t ye tell me?”

Lennox shrugged, his gaze forward. “It isnae my story ye are interested in, but Father Andrew’s.”

More like Lennox was waiting to see what Cailean asked Father Andrew. “I’d like to know more.” Cailean pressed. “Will ye tell me what happened?”

“If ye like. Father Andrew arrived in Heatheredge and asked to speak with the leaders. Of course, my father was included in the meeting and he brought me along. I was twenty-two years old.”

“How long ago was this?” Cailean asked.

“Just over eight years ago,” Julianna replied.

“He didnae come to Heatheredge two or three years after the slaughter?”

Lennox shook his head. “Heatheredge lay in ruins. There were rumors about what had happed to Lady Elizabeth, but people were so angry, if they had known where to find her, they likely would have killed her. Our father spent many years helping to rebuild the town. He kept very little profit in those early years and gave much back to the people for their own use as so many homes were burned. If no’ for him, it is likely Heatheredge would no’ exist. Father Andrew told the leaders that he’d been with Elizabeth when she died.”

Shock punched into Cailean. “Did he say she died in childbirth?”

Lennox shook his head. “Nae. He said she died as a result of the abuse. After the attack on Heatheredge, we suffered nearly fifteen years of dry summers and cold winters. Crops failed, rivers turned to dust, and livestock starved—as did many villagers. Father Andrew said we were no better than the Rosses who had attacked us, and God was punishing us.”

“And everyone bought that,” Cailean said more to himself than to Lennox.

“No’ everyone. My father didnae believe him, but he knew many other leaders did. Most important, many tenants accepted everything the priest claimed. Father saw that the people needed something to cling to, even if it meant thinking they had sinned. At least then they would have hope that things would get better. If God forgave them, the town would be washed clean of all stains. Father Andrew conducted mass. Now, every four years, he says a special mass to commemorate our redemption and we renew our vow to never commit such an atrocity again, no matter what crimes are done against us.”

“Did conditions improve?” Cailean felt sure they had. Mother Nature was neither good nor bad. Some years were hard, others easy. The ever-turning wheel of the natural world.

“Look around.” Lennox nodded. “You see pines just now, but they shelter creatures who didn’t survive here when Heatheredge was soot and ash. The animals have returned and they provide food, leather, furs and more. You have seen the wealth in Heatheredge, its great castle. Reay Village bustles, the Monk’s Elbow Tavern and the Sleepy Abbot Inn are always busy. Soon you will see the outskirts of the abbey lands, their neatly-tended fields and orchards.” Lennox’s voice deepened, taking on an undertone of pride. “Reay Abbey is the gem of this region. We are blessed to have them. So, you see, in truth, we have been more prosperous since Father Andrew said that first mass than any time in my father’s life.”

“But people disappear.”

“Three,” Lennox agreed.

“Aunt Agnes disappeared four years ago,” Julianna said.

“The disappearances coincide with the mass?” Prickles lifted the hairs on his nape.

“In the month of April.” Julianna swatted a fallen pine needle from her hair. “But not the same day. Agnes disappeared the last day of April.”

Within the time period the festival took place in twenty-first century Scotland, Cailean thought, and didn’t like the implications.

“You seem troubled.” Julianna pinned him with a stare.

“Do ye no’ find it disturbing that people disappear?”

“Of course, but I was referring to the account of Father Andrew.”

He shook his head. “Nae. It’s clear you have prospered. Perhaps Father Andrew was right. Maybe forgiveness was the answer.”

“Or mayhap people simply needed something to believe in, and by the sweat of their brow they changed their lives,” Lennox said.

Cailean nodded. “Hard work is never a mistake.” He would like to think that was all there was to it. But something picked at the back of his brain like the drip, drip, drip of a leaky water faucet.