The Clan MacDougall Series (60 page)

W
ell rested, with full stomachs, and fresh horses, Findley’s band of warriors and reivers set out before dawn. The two older boys were given mounts of their own. Liam would ride with Richard and Collin with Patrick.

Maggy rode with Findley. While it felt good to have her pressed so closely to his back, it was also quite a distraction. He needed to keep his mind sharp and his focus on the task at hand. The last thing he wanted was to be caught off guard by any of the Buchannan clan that might be lurking about.

Earlier that morning, while Maggy was busy readying the lads for their journey, Findley had met with his men. If the weather held and they could keep the stops to a minimum, it was possible they could reach Stirling in two days.

They had discussed the few choices available to them. Hire men and pray they could trust the fealty they had purchased or beg for safe harbor from the monks at the Abbey of St. Mary. They all agreed it was better to put their faith in the men of God. And with God’s blessing Findley and his men would reach Aberdeen in less than a fortnight.

The message he had sent to Angus begged for him to send as many men as he could, and to meet them in Aberdeen. If all went well they would arrive just a few days before their reinforcements.

If Angus was as generous as Findley hoped, he would have at least fifty men with which to lay siege to the Buchannan keep. It was Findley’s hope to have Ian rescued and back in his mother’s arms within a month’s time. And God willing, Maggy would be so overjoyed with having her son returned unharmed that she might consider the proposal he intended to offer her.

If the weather held; if Angus were generous; if God would just grant him these small requests; if fate would leave him be for a time; if Maggy would cooperate and see the right of it and stay in St. Mary, he would be able to fight without worry. And if he could keep his mind off the lass whose arms were now wrapped tightly around his waist, he might just survive this whole ordeal.

There were far too many “ifs” for his liking. He knew that even the best-laid plans could not account for every circumstance. Life was oftentimes fraught with the unexpected. He knew his biggest obstacle would be Maggy’s relentless insistence that she help retrieve her son. If he had to lock her in a cell to keep her safe and out of harm’s way, then so be it.

They rode for several hours before stopping to rest. Maggy was glad to be off the horse. It had been too many years since she had ridden and her rump and legs were reminding her of that fact. The bottom of her feet stung when she slid from the back of Findley’s horse. Her back and legs begged her to sit in the grass and not move for at least a week’s time, but she knew that would only make remounting near impossible.

She stretched her arms and back for a moment, before daring to take a few steps, and noticed her sons chatting happily away with Wee William and the rest of the men. The boys seemed unfazed by the journey thus far. Och! To be that young again, with endless energy and hope!

Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice Findley standing behind her until she felt his hot breath on her neck.

“Are ye well, lass?” he asked.

His close proximity startled her and she jumped and gasped.

Findley’s lips curved into a smile. “I didna mean to startle ye!”

Damn him for being so insufferably handsome! she thought as her heart began to beat faster. I’ll burn in hell fer certain fer the lustful thoughts I’m havin’.

“Next time warn me that you mean to sneak up on me!”

Findley could not resist the urge to smile. “Now, if I warned ye, it would no’ be a surprise, would it?”

She let out a frustrated sigh. Men.

“Ye look verra nice in yer new dress, Maggy,” he told her.

I could get lost in his sparkling brown eyes. She swallowed and pushed the thoughts aside.

“Thank ye, kindly,” she said. Her hands went immediately to her skirts as she made an attempt to smooth out some of the wrinkles. She was wearing the practical green dress. She was saving the blue for a special occasion, although she couldn’t imagine any in the near future.

His eyes seem to twinkle more than usual this morn. They brought a flutter of excitement to her stomach so she forced herself to look away and pretended to look at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them.

Part of her wanted to think there was more to his compliment than polite small talk. Hadn’t she lost that youthful, innocent part of herself years ago? Widowed mums of five should not be having such feelings, should they?

Time was not a luxury. They did not linger long as they ate the bread, cheese and apples that Fiona had graciously packed for them. Soon enough they were mounted again and headed towards Stirling.

“When do ye think we’ll arrive in Stirling, Findley?” Maggy asked as they rode.

“If all goes well, we shall be there late tomorrow,” he answered over his shoulder.

“Do ye think yer chief will send the men ye requested?”

Findley thought on the best way to answer her. While Angus was a fine man with a great sense of honor and duty, Findley could not be certain his chief would answer his plea for help. He could only pray that Angus would send the men he needed.

“Angus is a good man,” Findley responded.

“But good enough that he’d be willin’ to sacrifice men for people he does no’ ken?” That had been one of the many questions gnawing at her since yesterday.

“Lass, ye dunna ken Angus McKenna,” Findley answered and prayed she would drop the subject.

There were many questions running through Maggy’s mind as well as her heart. “How well do ye ken him?”

She thought it a very reasonable question. She knew that Findley had lost his family and entire village and carried much guilt over it. She wondered how long he had been a member of Angus’ clan. Mayhap Findley was putting too much faith in a man he had not known long.

“I ken him verra well. He’s me uncle.”

She was surprised to learn that. Maggy could only hope that Findley’s family ties were stronger than what she had witnessed in Gawter’s family. Gawter’s family had been filled with people interested only in furthering their individual wants and desires. There had been no strong bonds of family honor. Maggy was convinced it was ice water and greed that ran through their veins and not blood.

“Are ye close to yer uncle then?”

“Aye,” Findley answered. She was asking for reassurance.

“Is he as honorable as ye?”

“Aye, he is.” That was the truth.

“Did ye ever find the men responsible for killin’ yer family?” She regretted the question as soon as she asked it. She could feel him grow tense and uneasy and wished that she could withdraw the question.

Findley took in a deep breath. “Aye, we did.”

She wanted to know more, but didn’t have the heart to ask. She could feel his uneasiness and apprehension.

“I’m sorry, Findley,” she told him as she laid her head against his back. It felt good to be holding him. She could feel the strength of his muscles as she held on tightly. But there was more than a physical strength to this man. There was a deep, inner strength that seemed to radiate from within him.

“I didna mean to bring ye any pain. I simply wanted to ken more of the man I’m puttin’ so much of me faith in.”

He could not fault her for that. “Dunna worrit,” he said. “I suppose there is much we each want to ken of the other.”

Maggy was losing herself in the moment. It had been years since she felt protected and cared for. Findley reminded her a bit of her da and her brothers. They were honorable men, much like Findley and his men. Her da and brothers would often put the needs of others ahead of their own.

Her heart ached with missing her father. Had he not died so young then mayhap she wouldn’t have been forced into the marriage with Gawter.

Her mother had done her best with raising Maggy and her seven brothers alone. When her mum had agreed to the marriage between Gawter and Maggy it had, at that time, seemed like the answer to many prayers. While sons were perfectly capable of making their own path in life, such was not the case for daughters.

Lila Boyle had done her best to provide a safe life for Maggy. Had Lila been blessed with seeing the future, she might not have been so agreeable to the marriage of her only daughter to a man with no heart.

“I lost me da when I was eight,” she murmured, unsure why she chose to share that bit of her past with him. “I miss him verra much.”

Findley felt his heart tighten in his chest when he heard the sadness in Maggy’s voice. “I was ten and one,” he confessed.

Maggy sat upright, certain she had misunderstood him. “Ten and one?”

“Aye,” Findley said with a nod of his head.

Maggy was beyond perplexed. “Ten and one?” she repeated, wanting to make sure she had heard him correctly. She had assumed he had been much older when he lost his family, for his guilt was so intense.

“Aye,” he answered again, not understanding her confusion.

“Findley, ye were just a boy when ye lost yer family,” she said. “How can ye be consumed with such guilt when ye were but a child?”

And there it was. The same question he’d been asked a hundred times over the years. He had yet to meet anyone who could understand how he felt.

“It matters not that I was but ten and one. I wasna there to protect them.”

A sudden realization hit her like a wall of water. “Ye dunna feel guilty that ye weren’t there to protect them,” she said quietly. “Ye feel guilty that ye did no’ die with them.”

Findley pulled rein and brought his horse to a rapid stop and Maggy had to tighten her hold to keep from falling off. He twisted himself as best he could but could not see her face completely. He was instantly angered by her statement. “Yer daft!”

“Nay, I’m no’ daft! I speak the truth and ye refuse to hear it,” she threw back at him, loosening her grip once the horse settled.

“Get down,” he told her. When she shook her head nay and refused to dismount, he tossed his leg over the neck of his horse and slid down to the ground.

“Ye canna understand it!” he said through clenched teeth.

“I can understand it well enough, Findley.” She was doing her best to remain calm and not lose her temper.

“Yer a daft woman, Maggy! Ye canna understand how I feel. It matters not that I was a boy. I was no’ there for me family. I was no’ there to help fight against the English bastards who invaded our village! I was no’ there to save me sister, or me da and mum!”

“And what could ye have done at ten and one?” Maggy asked him pointedly. “Look at Andrew, Findley! He’s not much older than ye were at the time. Look at him!” Her voice was rising, frustrated with wanting him to see reason.

His men and the boys had drawn their horses together and stood a good distance from Findley and Maggy. Findley refused to look at Andrew.

“Yer afraid to look at him,” Maggy said. “Yer afraid to see the right of it. Yer afraid to face the truth, Findley. Ye’ve been carryin’ around yer guilt fer so long ye dunna ken how to live without it.” Maggy lowered her voice.

“Findley,” she whispered. “Ye were just a boy. There was nothin’ ye could have done to protect any of them. Ye would have died along with the rest of them and that is what ye feel guilty over. No’ that ye couldn’t protect them, but that ye did no’ suffer as they did.”

No one had ever spoken so bluntly to him before. His whole life, people had tiptoed around the subject. Even his own uncle had failed to see the real reasons behind Findley’s guilt.

Where others had failed to see the truth of it, Maggy was able to see it in a matter of moments. His anger continued to burn. What right did she have to speak so bluntly, to be so forward?

“I’ll thank ye kindly to keep yer thoughts on the matter to yerself,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Nay,” Maggy said.

Findley shot her a look of warning. “Lass, I’ll give ye one warnin’, and only one. Ye be treadin’ where ye’ve no right to go.”

It mattered not that she spoke the truth. She had no problems speaking candidly about his secrets yet she refused to share hers with him.

She knew he was right. She had no right to speak to him in such a forward manner. But to see a man suffer so and to do nothing to help purge the guilt from his heart was something she could not do.

Uncertain if it were motherly instincts or those of a woman who wanted to, at the least, be this man’s friend that urged her on, she refused to give up. Whatever the force was that bade her to want to help him as much as he wanted to help her to get her son back, it was far too strong to deny.

“Findley, I mean no’ to make ye angry or to pain ye. I mean only to help ye see it so ye can shed these many years of guilt. Ye needn’t rid yerself of all of it, fer that would be near impossible. But at the very least, ye need to quit blamin’ yerself fer not dyin’ that day.”

Findley ran a hand through his hair. He was ready to pull her off the horse and let her ride with someone else. He did not want to discuss it further. But women were peculiar things. They put more stock into feelings and thoughts than men did.

“Findley,” she said softly. “Had ye died that day, ye’d no’ be here to help me and me sons.” If he could not see that God had a greater plan for him than dyin’ at a young age, she’d make him see it.

He looked up at her with a befuddled expression. “Can ye no’ see that?” she asked him.

How many times had he prayed for answers? How many hours had he spent in chapel asking God why? Why had God spared him? Why had God taken his family?

“God has a plan fer ye, Findley. There is somethin’ he wants of ye and fer ye. And it was no’ to die that day.” Maggy swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

She had no doubt that God had a special plan for Findley. What she did doubt was Findley’s ability to see it for himself.

Findley and Maggy rode in silence the rest of the day. He could not put his anger and frustration aside and Maggy refused to beg for his forgiveness.

They made camp just before sunset, nestling themselves into a copse of tall pine trees. Maggy was used to hard work but riding a horse for an entire day was exhausting. Her muscles ached, her back hurt and her bottom was beyond numb.