Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(19)



“Och!” Brigid said. “I’d no sooner give information to my brother than he’d give it to me.”

“Amen, sister,” Isobel said.

Both women laughed with unguarded abandon, and their light-hearted banter amazed Susanna. A jovial bond between two women was something she’d never experienced before—and immediately loved.

Susanna dipped a linen square beneath the steaming water and brought it up, rubbing the lavender-scented soap into the material as she enjoyed another luxury she’d never had before. After a cloud of fragrant suds formed, she ran the decadent cloth from her wrist up her arm to her shoulder, pressing hard in a long stroke. A thousand muscles slowly relaxed, including her mind. She failed to remember a time when she had no cares, when she and Mama hadn’t worried about the very next minute...each minute of their lives.

The peace and safety of Isobel and Brigid’s home, the happiness abounding everywhere—the love evident in the hearts of the people she’d encountered—ran directly against everything she’d been taught. It opposed everything she believed about the world.

All men are bad. They’re at the root of every woman’s sorrow.

Susanna exhaled, lowering the cloth beneath the surface as she cleaned the rest of her body. She decided to worry about the greater world later, opting to enjoy this glimpse of happiness God had granted.

She cupped water into her hands and tried to wet her hair, but more splashed outside the tub than within.

Brigid laughed. “Doona drown us. Relax. I’ll help.”

Her volunteer bath attendant crossed the room, fetched a ceramic pitcher off a far table, and gripped the vessel with one hand on the handle and the other cradled beneath as she carried it over.

“Why are you both bein’ so kind to me?” Susanna bit her lip the moment she inadvertently voiced the candid question.

Brigid rested the water pitcher on the lip of the tub and looked down at her, tilting her head. “I doona know any other way to be to someone in need of a friend.” She glanced up at Isobel. “On a rare occasion, a person comes into your life and you doona know how or why, but you know them. You feel connected in ways you canna explain. I never question the uncommon gifts of friendship and love—I embrace them.”

Isobel smiled. “Brigid, you are a generous soul. Were it not for you, who knows what would’ve happened to me.” She glanced at Susanna. “We’re here to support you. It’s not easy being thrust into an unfamiliar situation. Trust me. I so know about being a stranger in a foreign land. Relying on the strength of the people around you will help you discover the same within yourself.”

“Close your eyes,” Brigid said.

Susanna began to process what Isobel had said as she closed her eyes. An unexpected rush of warm water flowed over her head and face, and she sputtered as it splashed into her nose and mouth. She laughed, wiping her face with a hand.

Brigid took the soap from her, dunked her hands in the water, and rubbed them together, creating a thick lather. She dropped the soap into the tub and buried her hands into Susanna’s hair, pulling the locks up into a heap atop her head and rubbing her scalp with firm fingers.

Relaxed by Brigid’s massage, Susanna sighed and settled back against the tub.

“Susanna, where are you from?” Brigid asked.

The muscles in Susanna’s back stiffened, a line of instant tension shooting from her spine into her shoulders. Unable to stop the sudden emotional reaction, her heart raced like a rabbit’s.

“Shhh...’tis fine, Susanna. No one cares if you doona tell us. I dinna mean to pry.” Brigid urged her back against the tub with gentle pressure until she relaxed once again.

“Hmmm...” hummed Isobel while keeping her eyes shut. “You’re very curious when it comes to others, but you and your brother are the best secret keepers I know, when it suits your amusement.”

“Or need,” Brigid huffed. “Some details are shared only when the time is right.”

Isobel opened one eye again, arching her brow as she peered at Brigid. “Funny how need is subjective—viewed differently from the secret keeper and the one who would most benefit from said secret.”

Brigid’s tone softened. “Close your eyes again, Susanna.”

She did as instructed and held her breath as warm water flowed over her head. A second pour came down, streaming back and forth over both sides of her face.

“You’re no worse for wear, Isobel. You’ve become happy as a fat cat now,” Brigid said.

“Hey! Watch the fat commentary, or I promise to be merciless when it’s your turn to be with child,” Isobel said.

Brigid snorted. “Go ahead and stand, Susanna. I’ve a wee bit of water left to rinse, if you’d like.”

Susanna stood in the tub while reflecting on the playful teasing between the two close friends—on what Isobel had said about relying on the kindness and strength of others—and she began to believe in the tempting promise of the unanticipated notion. She still found the thought of trusting strangers difficult to grasp with everything that a lifetime of self-preservation had ingrained in her. But for whatever short time she had with the two compassionate women, she wanted to be a part of their special connection in whatever small way she was granted.

While Brigid poured the last of the water in the pitcher over her body, Susanna took a deep breath, readying to pour her heart out to her new friends. “I’m the daughter of Broc MacEalan. I’ve run away, and I’m never goin’ back,” she blurted.

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