The Highlander's Secret(3)

Her tears stirred up complicated emotions inside him, catching Eamon off guard. The clans had always fought off the Vikings and cursed them in raised voices often, but this girl was just a wee lass and she needed care like any other. He couldn’t find it in his heart to hate her. It was his duty to protect the innocent, so he couldn’t very well leave her there to die. But if his kinsmen found out the truth, that’s exactly what would happen, they wouldn’t jeopardize the safety of the village.

While he was contemplating what to do, a voice called out in the distance signaling Keenan’s return. “Gather the bodies, we’ll build a funeral pyre.”

Eamon and the child both heard them, and she looked back at him in fear. Her brilliant green eyes captivated him once again and Eamon couldn’t help but think back to his wife at home. They had tried for many years to have a child, but fate had not granted one to them.

He considered the wee lass again. She had the face of an angel. Surely, his Moira would find this to be a blessing from the Lord, a belated answer to their prayers. Her heart would burst with love and happiness at the chance to become a mother.

He’d wanted that as well, to be a father and protector of a child who needed him. Perhaps God had seen fit to put a child in his path after all. Children should not be held accountable for the sins of their parents.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. He could only imagine how terrified she must be, alone and separated from her family. Her chest heaved, letting out a tiny cough from inhaling all the smoke. Heat of the burning cottages warmed Eamon’s back as the other warriors came around the bend.

His brother called to him, “Eamon, what have ye found?”

Eamon crouched in front of her when they addressed him. Could he do this? Could he bear the consequences if any of his clan ever learned who she was? Could he bear the weight of his guilt if he didn’t protect her? His heart thudded in his chest as it would if he were fighting for his life. And perhaps he was.

When his brother grew closer, the girl gasped, looking up at Eamon in fear. She shook her head in protest and backed deeper into the crevasse. Her expressive eyes spoke clearly, let me stay hidden. He couldn’t do that. His decision was made. Eamon stuttered, closing his hand around the brooch to hide it from their view before turning around to face their chieftain. “It’s a child,” he responded simply. “She was hiding in the rubble. Poor lass saw the whole thing, but somehow managed to escape.”

Keenan glanced past him at the little red-headed child still cowering in the shadows below him with ash and cinders at her feet. Her small body trembled in her hiding spot, shying away from them as best she could. Keenan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked her over from head to foot. “That’s a tender mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, saving her from those heathen miscreants. We will take her back to Elign with us.”

As he was about to walk away, Eamon called out, “Brother, if it pleases ye, Moira and I would tend to the lass ourselves. Ye ken how much we’ve wanted children, but God has not yet blessed us with one. Such a boon would be a light in these dark times.”

Keenan raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, looking back at him with steel gray eyes. “So be it. I’ll not deny a child the opportunity to be loved and cared for. Ye’ll be responsible fer her then. Take the lass home, she’s yers to guard and keep.”

Eamon breathed out in relief and said, “Thank ye, Keenan. I will not forget the kindness ye have bestowed on us this day.”

The chieftain nodded stiffly and climbed up on his horse without another word. As they trotted away to help the others clean up the mess, he called back over his shoulder. “Get her out of here as soon as possible. I dinnae want any more death to fall on innocent eyes. Ye’ve taken on a great responsibility and I won’t keep ye here any longer, especially when there’s still a decent ride ahead of ye.”

“Aye, Keenan.”

Eamon was left to take her and reached to pull the girl out of the wreckage. As his hands wrapped around her body, the child let out a blood curdling scream and started babbling incoherently between her tears. Afraid of what the other men might hear, he put a hand over the girl’s mouth to silence her. Eamon didn’t want to draw more attention than they already had and if she put up more of a fuss they might search her. If they realized she was speaking another language it would give away her heritage and all would be lost. “Quiet, lass. Ye’re too old to be doing that. Ye’re safe.”

He mimicked eating food to try and show he was going to care for her, then looked again at the brooch before giving it back to her.

“We’ll have to keep this bit a secret.”

He put a finger to his lips and pointed to the jewelry. Her eyes widened with understanding and she let him carry her to his animal. She was such a tiny thing that as he placed her on the saddle her legs didn’t even reach the stirrups. A few more sobs escaped before he climbed along behind her and put his arms around her waist to secure them for the ride.

“Hush now, lassie. We have a good home fer ye back in Elign,” he whispered against the tangled mess of her flame red hair. “Moira will be glad to meet ye.”

Angus clomped down the path out of the smoldering village and off into the grassy hillside. As they left the death and destruction behind them, she turned her head towards the coast and stared off into the sea. In the distance, he could hear the waves crash against the shore while her body shook from crying on the saddle in front of him. After a while, Eamon felt her little body relax. She leaned into him. Her breathing became slow and regular as if the rhythm of the horse finally lulled her to sleep.