Page 2 of Rose
Rose’s shoulders sagged. She took a deep breath. “No one can. And although I grieve for them every day, a part of me understands this and has reconciled myself to my fate—But ‘tis my fate that mocks me with its barrenness.” She stretched her arms wide as if to encompass the whole of Colonsay. “And this island. This wonderful haven that protects all I hold dear, my heroic brothers who have sacrificed their freedom for Scotland—who are outlaws to the crown, wanted men. This island has saved them, allowed them a place where they can live happily ever after. But this is a place to end up, not to begin. I will never find what my heart craves on these isolated shores.”
Ian seized her hands, his eyes bright with hope. “But don’t ye see, this is just the beginning for the MacVies—a new beginning. I’m going to make us merchants. We will have ships, Rose, big ones.” He pulled her farther down the coast and stopped in front of a large bulky object, completely covered by an old patched sail cloth. He turned to her. “And I’ll need a quarter master.”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “Me?” she said, not hiding her surprise. Then she cocked her brow at her youngest brother. “Ian, no man in his right mind will sail a ship with a woman as its quarter master.”
Ian puffed out his chest. Although he was only one and twenty, he stood more than six and a half feet tall. With his fiery red curls, he was an intimidating sight. A gentle pup, more often than not, but when provoked, he had an explosive temper. So, too, had she in her youth, but over the years she had learned control…most of the time, at least.
He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “They will if they want to sail my ship.” With his next breath, he relaxed and smiled. The lion once more gave way to the lamb. “Anyway,” he continued, “ye’re a fine sailor. Ye always bring us luck when ye join us fishing. And speaking of fishing…” he said, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for the large sail cloth that covered whatever he sought to conceal. “This is for ye.” He whisked the cloth away.
She gasped, and a smile came unbidden to her lips while her gaze traced the sleek lines of a newly fashioned sailing skiff. Although large enough for two passengers, she was certain she could handle the small vessel on her own. Jumping high, she threw her arms around Ian’s neck. “’Tis magnificent!”
He laughed and squeezed her tightly before setting her feet back on the ground.
Her hand shook as she ran her fingers across the oarlock. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Still smiling, she looked up at Ian. “Will ye try her out with me on the morrow?”
His smile faltered, causing her own to disappear. “What is it?” she asked.
He looked at her for a moment as if measuring his words.
“Just say whatever is on yer mind. Ye know I do not suffer such nonsense as sparing my feelings. What is it?”
He set his lips in a grim line before saying, “I received a missive from Abbot Matthew earlier today.”
A chill of dread shot up her spine. “I…I did not know a messenger came,” she stammered while she fought for calm.
Ian rubbed the back of his neck. “Ye’ve stayed away. No one wanted to disturb ye.”
Abbot Matthew led Scotland’s army of secret rebels. Jack, Quinn, Rory, and Alec had all carried out missions for the abbot, but they had retired their swords, all except Ian. She knew there was only one reason why the abbot would have sent a message to her youngest brother. The cause for Scottish independence needed a MacVie, and Ian was the only one left whose identity remained a secret.
“Ye’re wanted for a mission,” she said quietly.
he nodded. “I leave at daybreak.”
She turned away and looked out to sea, her heartache both soothed and fueled by the tumultuous waves.
“Rose,” he said.
“Aye,” she muttered. Her chest felt hollow as if her heart was too empty to beat.
“Abbot Matthew once told me that God is like the stars guiding a man’s ship, but ‘tis the man who makes his own destiny.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started to lead her up the beach toward the large thatched hut where the MacVies had gathered to give Ian a send-off.
“What are ye trying to tell me?” she asked.
“I’m telling ye that yer destiny is not yet written.”
