Page 10 of Love’s Charity

Chapter Four

She snuggled deeperinto the blankets and tucked up tighter against Evander. Thankfully, her burly man gave off enough heat to warm a good-sized keep. Her burly man. Without opening her eyes, she smiled and breathed easier. Mistress Hanna had been right about letting go of the hate and choosing joy. Such a wise old woman.

She tucked a hand to her chest and pulled in another deep breath. The aching knot of all her past doubts and hurts, the knot she had fed with hatred and jealousy, had been slowly poisoning her, just like Mistress Hanna said. But now that she had finally rid herself of it, she felt a peace and a hope she hadn’t known in quite some time.

Something cold and wet plopped onto her cheek and trickled down under her chin. The snow must’ve made it through the roof again. She cracked open an eye and swiped it away. Shock and disbelief yanked her into complete wakefulness. Unable to sort through her muddled thoughts, she pushed herself upright and gave Evander’s chest a series of rapid-fire pats.

“Evander,” she finally choked out. “Evander.”

His eyes still closed, he tried to pull her back down into his arms. “Nay, love. Sleep a bit longer, aye?”

She thumped him. Hard. Fear and confusion battled for control of her. A deeper gulp of icy air made her cough as she rubbed her eyes. Had she dreamed it all? She shook him again, determined to not let go until he heeded her. “Evander! Wake, I say, and look around!”

He sat bolt upright and whacked his forehead on a low-hanging branch, jostling free heavy clumps of snow that tumbled across them. “What in God’s good name?”

Marianna hugged her knees and darted glances all around. Fear and confusion froze her worse than the cold. Everything was gone. The cottage. The hearth. Mistress Hanna and Gabriel. The only thing that remained from yesterday were the two mighty pines towering above them. The horses and the sledge shared the shelter of the large trees and waited nearby.

“Tell me I have not gone mad,” she said, clutching the blankets closer to her throat. “Tell me ye remember Mistress Hanna. And the cat. And her…her lodging. And the joy of last night as we told stories and sang songs.”

Evander gathered her close and gently rocked. “I remember it every bit, Mejjy. Every bit. I fixed her roof. Gathered her wood. The woman loved our whisky and the stew ye made. Her cat lapped up everything, too.” He paused, then hugged her tighter. “I had never seen a cat drink whisky before. That black beastie loved it. I remember it well.”

Tucked against his chest, she clutched his coat and peered out at the snowy wood surrounding them. “Think ye she was a witch?”

“If she was, at least she seemed to be a kindly one.” He gently set her aside and rose to his feet, taking care to wrap the blankets tighter around her. “I shall look around, aye? Stay here.”

“Look around for what?” Panic turned her voice into a high-pitched squeak. She hated it but couldn’t control it. “’Tis all of it gone. All of it.”

“Nay, notallof it.”

“What?” She stared up at him, then hurried to stand and see what had caught his attention.

“The sledge is filled with a great deal more than we packed atTor Ruadh.It holds at least twice as much as it did. Maybe three times, even.” He eased toward the sled that waited at the base of the pine.

Marianna started to join him but then stopped and stared at the ground. “Evander, the snow.”

Evander looked back at her. “What about the snow?”

“’Tis barely deep enough to give the ground a good covering.” She strode out from under the trees, still clutching the blankets tight around her. The thin layer of snow wasn’t any deeper in the center of the clearing. A bright blue sky greeted her gaze, and sunshine sparkled across the icy crust of the wintry whiteness, making it seem like a blanket of diamonds. “It isna deep anywhere. Where are the drifts? Even here in the wood, the snow was deeper than this last night. I remember struggling through it when I fetched supplies from the sled.”

“Come see the sledge.” His tone paired with the leeriness in his face, tensed her even more.

She hurried to his side. The thing was piled high with such a bountiful load, she wondered if her horse could pull it. Then she saw it and caught her breath. Firmly tucked in where the ropes crossed was the largest white feather she had ever seen. She started to pluck it out, then drew back her hand, too afraid to touch it. “I dinna think she was a witch, Evander.”

“Nay, love,” he said in a hushed tone as he hugged her to his side. “Not a witch at all.”

“What should we do?”

With his gaze still locked on the feather, he tipped his head to match the slant of his brow. “Take the MacGougans what they need, I reckon.”

“Aye.” But they both stood there, staring at the feather, its pristine white tip barely fluttering in the gentle breeze. Marianna reached for it again, but just as she was about to pluck it from the ropes, a gust of wind tugged it free and twirled it up into the sky. “It’s gone,” she whispered, suddenly missing the sweet old lady and her cat.

“It may be gone,” Evander said as he stared upward. “But we need no proof. We have the memory of last night.”

“If we speak of it to anyone, they’ll think us barmy.” She moved in a slow circle, looking around the winter woods that had changed so much from yesterday. Whirling about, she shook a finger at him. “Swear we speak of this to no one.”

He hooked a finger with hers. “I swear.”

“No one, now,” she warned. “Not even the MacCoinnich or yer brothers.”

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