Page 69 of Highland Storm

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“Osla, I am so happy to see ye,” said Phoebe, hugging her cousin as the boat headed back for the MacKeefe camp. “I thought ye were dead. How is it ye are still alive? And have children?”

“Phoebe,” said the girl, seeming to think hard about her name. “I vaguely remember someone named Phoebe.”

“Osla, we were like sisters,” said Phoebe, grabbing the girl’s hands in hers. “Why dinna ye remember me?”

“How long have ye been on the isle?” asked Hawke.

“I – I dinna ken,” she told them. “Euan would ken. We should wait here for him to return. He’ll answer all yer questions. Ye see, I have a hard time rememberin’ things.” Her body shook and Phoebe wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear.

Phoebe removed her cloak and put it around her cousin. “Are ye hungry?” she asked the poor children who looked tired and dirty and very skinny.

“Aye,” said the boy. The little girl didn’t talk at all. They both looked frightened.

“I think I have some leftover bread in my pouch,” said Orrick, pulling out half a loaf that Phoebe hadn’t even known he had. He handed it to the children.

“Thank ye,” said the boy taking the bread and breaking off a piece for his sister and mother before he ate.

“I’m so tired,” said Osla, her eyes closing as she held the cloak tightly around her.

“We dinna need to talk tonight,” said Phoebe. “Once we get back to the MacKeefe Clan, ye’ll all get more food and ale and pallets to sleep on,” Phoebe told them.

“MacKeefe?” asked the boy, his eyes going from Hawke to Ethan and back to her. “My father told me the MacKeefes are our enemies and no guid.” He took another bite of bread. “He said if we ever see one we should kill them.”

“Nay, that’s no’ right,” said Phoebe. “Hawke and Ethan here are MacKeefes and they are guid people, I assure ye.”

“Why are ye with them?” asked the boy, looking at her plaid. “Are ye a MacNab?”

“Aye, I am,” she said with a nod. “I’m with them because I am their . . . prisoner.”

“And are we prisoners of the MacKeefes, too?” the boy persisted.

“Nay, ye are no’ our prisoners and neither is Phoebe,” said Hawke.

Phoebe looked up at Hawke in surprise. “I’m no’?” she asked.

“Well . . . no’ really.” Hawke busied himself with the rudder as they left the island. “No more talkin’. There’s too much noise. I dinna want to hear another word on our trip back.”

“Aye, we’re prisoners,” the boy told his sister, pulling the little girl closer to him. It about broke Phoebe’s heart.

Chapter 22

Hawke sat by the fire, thinking, after Phoebe had taken Osla and her children back to the infirmary to sleep. Orrick had gone with him. Things were going from bad to worse and Hawke didn’t know what to do.

“So, I dinna understand,” said Caleb, lounging back against a log with a bowl of berries next to him. “I thought yer wife was dead.” He popped a bilberry into his mouth.

“For ten years!” said Logan, sitting on a log next to Caleb on one side while Ethan was on the other. Ethan’s dog was sprawled out on the ground sleeping. Logan’s wolf spotted something in the dark and took off at a run.

“And she has children,” said Ethan, taking a swig of Mountain Magic. “She also said her husband was Euan. The lass seems very confused.”

“How old would ye say her boy is?” Logan took a swig of Mountain Magic as well.

“I believe she said the boy was nine and the girl was six,” said Ethan.

“Nine, huh?” Logan smacked his lips together, savoring the taste of the whisky.

“Dinna even say it, Logan, because I ken what ye’re thinkin’,” said Hawke, feeling worse than ever.