A Soldier's Salvation (Highland Heartbeats Book 7)(26)

“Both of us? How can you defend such terrible things?”

“He was merely lashing out at you, my dear. He was hurt, too.”

Caitlin made a dismissive noise as she fetched the broom and began to sweep. “Nonsense.”

“My darling girl. I’ve known you since the day you were born. I might not be your blood relation, but you’re the closest to a daughter the Good Lord ever saw fit to grant me. And he’s the closest to a son. I’ve watched you grow up together, I saw what developed between you. I’m certain that when he heard of your marriage to Alan, his heart all but broke in two.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“And I’m telling you it is. I’m older than you, dear, and wiser. I’ve seen much more of life. I know what love looks like, and the two of you shone with such a light when you were together that it nearly blinded me just to look at you.”

“Aunt Sorcha…” Caitlin turned her face away, a flush creeping up her throat and over her face.

“It’s so,” Sorcha replied, a bit of gentle laughter at the edge of her voice. She’d always loved to tease and couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of it in spite of her sadness.

Caitlin managed to calm the trembling in her hands before replying. “That was a long time ago, so it matters not any longer. Several years have passed. Many. Who’s to say what’s happened to him since then? He’s a changed person. Surely, you saw this with your own eyes.”

“Aye, he’s a grown man now, strong and capable,” Sorcha observed. “The sort of man you need.”

“Please, don’t tease me.”

“It’s not my intention to tease you, my dear. Not now.” Sorcha leaned forward in the chair, her hands grasping the arms. “I saw the same light in his eyes when he looked upon you. He hasn’t forgotten you, my dear girl, not for a moment in all this time. And I would be willing to wager that you haven’t forgotten him, either.” She settled back in the chair. “If I were a wagering woman, that is.”

Caitlin knew her aunt’s words were intended to reassure her, but they only served to upset her more than ever before. Was it true? Did he love her? How could he be so cruel, then?

She let the matter rest, knowing that the more she protested, the more her aunt would insist she knew the truth of the matter. Instead of discussing Rodric and the terrible things he’d said, then, she finished cleaning the kitchen and put the bread to bake.

By the time she did, the tunic she wore was stuck to her back with sweat, and the hair at the nape of her neck was soaked.

“Go to the river and bathe, wash your clothing,” Sorcha advised, gathering soap and a linen for drying. “You can borrow an old nightdress of mine tonight, while your tunic and trousers dry.”

Such an opportunity could not have come at a better time, as Caitlin needed to be alone in order to think through the swirling, murky thoughts which seemed ready to tear her head to pieces. As murky as the water into which she stepped, making sure to watch her footing as she walked further into the flow. It came to her waist at the deepest point of the narrows, so she crouched for the sake of modesty before removing her clothing.

It was silly to worry about modesty when there was no one around to see. Even Sorcha had settled in for the night, though she’d made her niece promise to announce her return.

When Caitlin had pointed out that this would only wake her, Sorcha had merely offered a weak smile in return. “It won’t wake me. I will not be asleep.”

No, she’d be awake and thinking about her husband. Her dead husband. The man who would no longer warm her bed.

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she set about the business of washing the sweat-stained tunic, her hands rubbing the soapy homespun together almost viciously. Now that she’d mourned her uncle over the course of the day, anger had taken the place of sorrow.

It made no sense for him to be gone when her aunt was left behind. What sort of cruel God would take a woman’s only solace away from her when she needed him? What God would not at least allow the two of them to speak words of love to each other before one of the pair was silenced forever?

At least he did not suffer. It was intended to be a consolation, she knew, though she could see how a woman might scream in frustration after hearing it too many times. But people couldn’t be held accountable for the things they said when comforting the grief-stricken. It was always a difficult terrain to travel.

Once the clothing was as clean as she could reasonably hope for it to be, she wrung it out and spread it across a group of rocks at the water’s edge before going back into wash herself.

The water was so cool, a refreshing change after working so hard. The night air was heavy with warmth, almost moist with it. Caitlin unwound her braid with practiced fingers before dunking her head under the surface of the river, delighting in the way her hair floated around her head. Like she had when she was a child.

When she’d swum in this river with Rodric.

The longer she spent in the water, the bolder she became. No one was nearby to see her resting her hands on the river bottom, allowing her unclothed body to float on the water’s surface as she had when she was a little girl. There was something almost wicked about the freedom of it, allowing the river to flow over her skin, through her unbound hair, washing away everything she wished to be rid of.