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Ruairi steeled himself against his emotions as he rode away from the Baird estate. The mocking, cackling laughter echoed in his mind, and he wished he had it in him to teach the laird a lesson in manners. He was a typical braggart, hiding behind the safety of his desk without braving the dangers of the world. It was sad to think that Kenna was going to live an unhappy life with a man like her father, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He took the horse and rode back to Calbraith territory, feeling emotions gnaw at him. It was the same whenever he visited home, but this time he was different. Through Kenna, he could see what a positive impact he had had on a life, how he had made a difference in the world. He knew that he certainly wasn’t perfect, but she had called him a hero, and she was not one to lie. It gave him a new sense of appreciation and belief in himself, but it did not change anything. He was still going to leave. He only hoped that he would be back in time to see his father one last time.

Familiar mountains rose around him, and trees stood like silent guardians, welcoming him back home. No matter how much time he spent away from this place, it would always be home. Even the scents were familiar and comforting, taking him back to a simpler time when the world was uncomplicated, and he knew exactly who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do. He rode past wide fields filled with cattle and sheep, through the forests that were said to be alive with spirits. Even though he had never been one for suspicion, Ruairi still said a silent “thank you” to any spirits who might have been watching over him. He slowed the pace of the horse as he reached the Calbraith estate. People stared at him in wonder, rubbing their eyes and murmuring with disbelief at the return of the lost son. He alighted from the horse near the stables and tied it to a pole. There was a familiar whinny, and Ruairi’s heart pitched. He turned around to see Ash standing there, next to Scone.

Ash was visibly older, but the stallion was still powerful, although he didn’t look as lean as he used to be.

“Greetings, old friend,” Ruairi said, placing his hand against Ash’s neck. The horse leaned into him and snuffled with a sense of friendship. “I know, it’s been a long time. I’m sorry. I can see ye hae been living the life of luxury. Maura must hae been treating ye,” he patted the horse’s robust flank and smiled. He and Maura used to bicker over how they treated their horses. Maura was fond of giving Scone treats, while Ruairi was more disciplined with Ash, meaning that he won the vast majority of the races. He took a moment to breathe in the familiar sight and then went to the main building.

It was difficult to believe that so many years had passed since he had last been here, as nothing had changed. It was as though this was the center of the world, immutable and absolute, and everything spun around it, including him. His footsteps echoed through hallways as he made his way to his father’s chambers. The door was ajar, so he nudged it open, looking at the scene of his sister and mother standing over the frail man.

For a moment, Ruairi wasn’t sure what to do. He had spent so long away from them that it didn’t seem right for him to be involved in the picture. The scene was already complete because whatever hole had been left by his absence had been filled in. They had lived here day by day, tending to his ailing father. What right did he have now to swing in and pretend that he cared?

But he did care.

Tentatively and timidly, he cleared his throat. He did not have to worry about a similar homecoming as Kenna had endured, but he was still worried about what might happen. First, he was surprised by how much his mother had aged. Tending to his father had evidently taken its toll on Moira. Maura had grown into a fine woman, proud and confident. They turned in unison and looked like reflections of each other as the same delighted smile broke out on their faces. Maura reached him first, but she relinquished the right of the first hug to her mother. When Moira held him, Ruairi didn’t think she would ever let him go. Part of him didn’t want her to. Maura’s embrace was softer, but no less tender. They parted and allowed him to gaze upon his father. Niall had never been weaker. The color had drained from his cheeks, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Every breath was a wheeze, and his hands trembled. It was clear the man had little time left.

“Ye got the message!” Maura said.

“Aye, but we almost did nae make it,” he said.

“We?” Moira asked, looking beyond him to see if anyone had accompanied him. Ruairi wore a pained smile.

“Kenna Baird. She didnae find her intended husband tae be adequate sae she returned with me, but my ship got caught in a storm.” He proceeded to tell them about the events of their journey through France and all the difficulty he had in returning home.

“But ye are here now, and that’s what matters,” Moira said, clasping his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I hae missed ye, my son. We all hae.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and tears welled up in her eyes. She choked on a sob and wiped errant tears away, laughing at her foolishness. “I’m a silly old woman.”

“Nay. Ma, I’m sorry for staying away this long. I should hae returned sooner,” Ruairi admitted. “I’m just glad that I managed tae make it back before…” His gaze lifted to focus on his father. “How is he?”

Both women’s heads dropped. “He’s nae good. This illness is a terrible one,” Moira said. “I’ve been begging him tae let gae, but he keeps holding on despite all the pain he’s in. He’s a stupid, stupid man,” she said, but Ruairi could hear how her words were imbued with love rather than impatience and frustration. “He’s been waiting for ye,” she added. She nodded for him to go to his father, and Maura did the same. Trepidation rose in Ruairi’s heart as he walked towards his father’s deathbed. It was only a short walk through a room, yet it seemed to take an eternity. Then he was suddenly standing before the man, looking into his cloudy eyes, knowing that this was a shadow of the man he remembered. Ruairi had never imagined his homecoming would be like this.

He sank to his knees.

“Da,” he said, the word an anguished whisper.

“Ruairi, my boy.” Every word Niall spoke took tremendous effort, and the words were punctuated by heavy breathing. “Ye hae returned.”

“Aye, Da, I hae. And I wanted tae say that I’m sorry for how I acted. For all my life, I hae been rushing away without thinking. I’m sorry for nae listening tae ye and for staying away for sae long. I thought my life was at sea. I tried tae leave behind everything about me, but I couldnae. I know I am a Calbraith no matter what I do or where I am, and I’m sorry that we dinnae hae enough time taegether because of it. I should hae been here, Da.”

Niall shook his head. “Ye lived yer life, Son. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I pushed ye tae hard. Ye were like me in sae many ways...I treated ye as if ye were me, and that was wrong. But I’m proud of the man ye hae become. I hae paid traders for word of yer ship, and I know about yer reputation and yer prowess. Aye, ye hae made something of yerself, lad, and I’m proud tae call ye my son.” He paused for a moment to gather his strength. With a trembling hand, he beckoned for Moira and Maura to come to him as well. He gathered their hands up and placed them all on each other. “This…this is the most important thing in the world. I’m gaeing tae die, but the clan will live on. Ruairi, ye are home now. Whether ye like it or nae, this is where ye belong, and it’s time tae take yer rightful place as laird.”

“Da…nay… I—” Ruairi began to protest, but Niall cut him off.

“If ye hae captained a ship, then ye can be a laird. Ye were born tae be a leader. I want ye tae be laird, lad. It is yer birthright. Maura, tell wee John tae be brave like his da and wise like his ma. He’ll make a good laird tae someday. Aye…the Highlands will be in good stead in the future. And Moira…Moira…it’s been a good life. Better than I could hae asked for, and better than I deserved after the way I treated ye when we met. If there are spirits, they hae been kind tae us. I’ll take yer love...with me...” he said, his words getting weaker the more he spoke.

Then, suddenly, his grip slipped away from them, and his body went limp. Moira and Maura sagged, as though the strength had been sapped away from them. Ruairi stared at his father blankly, glad that they had managed to make peace, and yet, even so, there still seemed so much that was left unsaid. A cold stone settled where his heart should have been. His lips trembled. All at once, he wanted to lash out and rage at the world, or just collapse into the darkness and let it swallow him. But most of all, he wished that Kenna could have been by his side to help him grieve for his father.

A few hours had passed since Niall had taken his last breath. Maura and Ruairi had stayed with their mother to comfort her until she said she wanted to be alone to mourn privately. They called the servants in to attend to the body and prepare it for burial, which would take place the following day. Ruairi and Maura shared some wine, sitting under the twinkling stars and the pale moon. They shared childhood stories of their father, remembering the man he had been in his prime rather than the one who had slowly deteriorated in that bed.

“I’m glad he was able tae hold on long enough tae see ye,” Maura said.

“Aye, I am as well.”

“And I’m glad that ye came home. When I sent the message, I wasnae sure. Nae after all that haes happened.”

“Tae be honest with ye, I wasnae sure as well, but I haed some sense talked intae me.”