Page 11 of Love’s Charity

His finger tightened and bobbed their linked hands up and down. “Not even our bairns when we have them.”

“Bairns,” she repeated, losing herself in those deep brown eyes that had always made her feel so loved and wanted. Even when they had fought as if they hated each other, his soulful eyes had always said otherwise.

“Aye, bairns,” he said softly, taking hold of her messy braid and sliding it through his fingers. “Daughters with hair as silky and golden as their lovely mother’s.”

“And sons as tall and broad-shouldered as their father.” Then she added with a smile, “And hair as ruddy as a Highland coo.”

The yearning to tarry in this special place filled her, but the urgency of their assigned task nudged at her conscience. She rested her hands on his chest and tiptoed up for a quick kiss. “I fear we must leave our magical woods now. The poor MacGougans need us.”

“Aye, that they do.” Reluctantly, he stepped away, then headed back to roll up their pallets and secure them onto the sled.

Marianna fetched a couple of oatcakes from the bag tied to her saddle, smiling as she paused and looked down at the rough brown rounds that amounted to nothing more than baked parritch. Last night, she had planned to treat Mistress Hanna with a breakfast of fried bread since the old woman had relished it so.

“An oatcake for ye.” She handed it to Evander, then drew out two loaves of the crude bread made with beans, peas, and a variety of grains to sustain the horses for the journey ahead. “Will we reach the MacGougans today?”

Evander snorted, then grinned. “Aye. Easily since the snow doesna appear to be near as deep as it was.”

“While the horses finish their breakfast, I’ll take care of my morning necessities and then be ready to go.” She hurried behind a secluded cluster of small pines. Ablutions didn’t take long. The snow might not be nearly as deep and treacherous, but the wind still possessed an icy bite that nipped at her backside.

When she returned, Evander lifted her up into the saddle. “I could probably use the stirrups, ye ken? My mount is nay as tall as yer own.”

“Ye’re my lady and shouldna have to use the stirrups.” He climbed into his saddle and urged his horse forward, then glanced back and eyed hers. “Yer beast may struggle with the weight of the sledge now.”

But the horse headed onward as if pulling nothing at all. Marianna wondered if Mistress Hanna’s strange magic was still at work. From Evander’s puckered expression, she could tell he wondered that as well. “I think we would be better off if we didna question it. Just be thankful, aye?”

“Aye,” he said, resettling himself on his mount with an uneasy roll of his shoulders.

They skimmed through the snowy wood, then headed down a gentle slope into a peaceful glen. A small herd of red deer gathering to drink from a swiftly moving burn started at their approach and bounded away.

“I wish them a merry Yule,” Evander called out as they trotted along. “Thanks to Mistress Hanna’s generosity, there is no need for hunting.”

Even though she appreciated a well-roasted venison, Marianna felt a gladness that the deer had gone their way unharmed. It seemed fitting for the occasion. A sliver of smoke rising up from a stand of trees on the far side of the glen caught her attention. “Is that the MacGougan’s place?”

Evander nodded, his smile bright and the copper of his hair gleaming in the brilliance of the sunny day. “Aye. I hadn’t thought it this close, but I guess we traveled farther through the storm than I thought.”

As they neared the cluster of several small structures, peals of laughter and children’s shouts filled the air.

“We have been spotted,” Evander said, adding his laugh to theirs.

They pulled into the clearing in front of the largest of the buildings, a modest stone cottage with a thatched roof. Immediately, children and dogs swarmed them. A woman with a babe in arms smiled from the bright red doorway, while two men emerged from a small round outbuilding with smoke billowing from the point of its conical roof. When Marianna spotted the men toting ceramic jugs, she knew the building housed the family still.

“About time ye got here!” sang out the heavier of the two men. He lifted a jug as if in a toast and gave them a jolly grin. “Ye should be ashamed of yerselves. Late in celebrating Yule with us and yer own wedding?”

“What did he say?” Marianna asked as Evander helped her down from the saddle.

“Late for Yule. And our own wedding?” Evander’s reddish brows arched to his hairline.

Thankfully, the rush of children clamoring for treats prevented any additional comments. Marianna clapped and held up her hands. “Help us carry everything inside and then, if yer Mama permits, ye may each have one treat before yer supper.”

“A fine goose is roasting!” one of the six wee ones announced. At least Marianna thought she had counted six. With all of them jumping about and varying only a little in height, it was hard to tell.

“A goose? That sounds fine indeed.” She loaded the energetic mites’ arms with parcels, then filled her own and followed.

“I be Beulah MacGougan.” The woman in the doorway nodded, balancing the baby on one hip as she held the door. “Fetch the rest, lads,” she told the herd of children, shooing them back outside. With a wave toward the hearth, she gave Marianna another welcoming smile. “Come and sit. Warm yerself, mistress.”

“Surely, ye need me to help with something.” Marianna glanced around the small dwelling filled with the mouth-watering aromas of roasting goose, freshly baked bread, and a pleasing array of spices. Sage, clove, rosemary, to name a few. And the slightest hint of freshness came from evergreen boughs decorating the mantel and hung above the windows and door. The MacCoinnich had led her to believe these people were poor and wanting, but nothing she saw confirmed that at all. Aye, the place was a tiny home for so many, but it was clean as could be, and the bairns were happy and well behaved.

“People think we have little,” Beulah said as if reading her mind. She placed the babe into a cradle in the corner, then went to the fire and basted the glistening brown skin of the roasting goose with a bundle of herbs dipped in something in a wooden bowl. “And ’tis true. We have verra little. But we are blessed with everything we need. And for that, we are thankful.” She set the bowl on a ledge beside the stone hearth and wiped her hands on her apron. “We thought surely we would see ye yesterday morning. Father Henry arrived two days before to make certain he could marry ye the day after Christmas.”

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