Page 81 of Fallen
She and Ross were wed and farming a tract of land upon the Isle of Barra, where they raised sheep. Leanna had never been happier but admitted that she missed her old friends terribly.
Afterward, Coira had decided that she would invite both Leanna and Ella to stay. Now that the ravages of the plague were behind them, it was safe to travel again. While Duncan MacKinnon ruled, Ella and Gavin weren’t welcome in Dunan either. In fact, he’d longed to have a chance to get his revenge against them.
Now, they no longer had to worry about him.
The rumble of male voices, punctuated by a burst of laughter out in the hallway beyond, drew Coira’s attention then. Smiling, she met Leanna’s eye. “Sounds like the men are back from hunting.”
Leanna gave a squeal of excitement, cast aside her half-finished wreath, and leaped to her feet.
At that moment, the door to the solar flew open and three men entered.
The first was tall and broad-shouldered, a grey brindled wolfhound loping at his heel. Around his shoulders the MacKinnon clan-chief wore a heavy fur cloak. Snowflakes dusted his shoulders and peat-brown hair.
Behind him another dark-haired man strode into the solar, his piercing blue eyes sweeping around as he took in the decorations. “Good grief … ye have all been busy.”
“Do ye like it?” Leanna rushed to her husband and launched herself at him. With a laugh, Ross caught her before lowering his lips to his wife’s for a kiss. “Aye … it’s bonny.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any mulled wine, is there?” A blond man entered behind Ross. Gavin MacNichol blew on his chilled hands. The clan-chief had warm blue-grey eyes and a boyish grin that Ella responded to with a smile of her own. “Aye … the servants have just brought up some. It’s still hot … help yerself.”
Gavin went to the cast iron pot sitting at Drew’s feet and lifted off the lid. The heady scent of plum wine and costly spice—cinnamon and clove—wafted through the solar.
Coira breathed in the rich aroma with pleasure. This was her first experience of such a drink. She had grown up relatively poor, and her life in the brothel and then at the abbey had never given her the opportunity to try mulled wine.
Gavin ladled cups for everyone and handed them out. Coira took hers gratefully, wrapping her fingers around the cup as she took a sip.
Glancing up, she saw Craeg approach her. The pair of them shared a smile.
“Did ye enjoy the hunt?” she asked. Behind them, Bran had settled down in front of the fire and was licking his wet paws.
“Aye … we brought down two red deer,” he replied. He took a sip from his own cup, his gaze widening. “Lord, this is good.”
“Mulled wine is as new to me as it is to ye then?” Coira asked.
“Of course … outlaws don’t live like lairds.”
Coira laughed, stepping close to him. Around them, the chatter of conversation punctuated with bursts of laughter filled the solar. Ross was teasing Leanna over her messy wreath, Gavin had picked up his daughter and was tickling her, while Ella and Drew debated whether or not it was too early to bring out plum and apple cakes to feast on. It was a happy scene, one that gave Coira a true sense of belonging.
A feeling that eluded her until recently.
She was happier too, since she’d received word from Shona. A message had arrived just a few days earlier. The former abbess of Kibride had found a new home far to the north of Scotland, upon one of the Isles of Orkney, where she lived as a hermit. And although it saddened Coira that Shona blamed herself for the events that had torn their lives at Kilbride apart, she was relieved to know that the woman was well. Maybe, one day, she’d realize the good she’d done them all. Coira knew she had much to thank Shona for.
“Ye have a smile to light up the world this afternoon, mo ghràdh,” Craeg murmured, moving nearer still. “I love to see ye so content.”
“I am,” she admitted, her smile fading just a little. “I only wish I could make this moment freeze in time … that all of us could remain exactly as we are … that nothing could ever touch us.”
“Aye, but it’s the very fact that these moments are fleeting that makes them so precious,” he replied, favoring Coira with that soft smile he reserved only for her. He reached out then and gently cupped her chin, raising it so that their gazes met. “Just remember that we will have other days like this in the years to come. I plan to spend many more Yuletides with ye, Coira. Many, many more.”
The End
