Page 132 of Highlanders for the Holidays
Thankfully, his cook, Louisa, had stood behind his decision. She’d even gone so far as to acquire goat’s milk and a wee flagon with which the child could suckle. “Nae near as good as mother’s milk, but ’twill do,” She had told him just an hour before.
Now the babe was happy and content, looking up at him as she sucked on her little fist.
While he would love to claim this child, he sincerely hoped the mother would change her mind and come for her daughter. ’Twasn’t that he didn’t want the babe. On the contrary, a little part of him wished the motherwouldn’tchange her mind so he could keep her. He hoped ’twas desperation that had forced the mother to give up her child. But he could not think of one person amongst his people who was that desperate. His clan had been blessed for many years with fertile soil and abundant crops. He doubted ‘twas poverty that motivated such an act. Nay, it had to be something else.
Just who the babe belonged to was a mystery, so he’d sent his brothers, Braigh and Ronald out to question their people, to see if anyone was missing a bairn or had recently birthed one.
In the meantime, he would take this wee cherub as his own. Mayhap God was finally answering his prayers. Granted, not in a typical fashion, with a wife first, and children second. Still, the Lord worked in mysterious ways, did He not?
Besides, he rather enjoyed the look of stunned horror on Helen’s face when he told her he was going to declare the child his if the mother did not return in a fortnight. ’Twas probably not the most Christianly thing to do. He’d ask God’s forgiveness later that night.
* * *
Leavingher daughter in the kirk had been the single most difficult thing Onnleigh had ever done. She’d barely gotten out the door when the tears began to fall. But she told herself she had to wait until she was beyond the walls, out of earshot of the guards or anyone else who might be awake at that hour, before she could let it all out.
The decision to give Nola away had not been easy. It left her bereft and empty, as if her heart had been torn from her chest and left out in the sun to wither.
Sleep did not come easily; her breasts began to ache with a need to feed the child, her arms and heart ached with a need to hold her. By morning, her bed was soaked with tears and spent milk.
Brokenhearted, cloaked in guilt, she tried to go about her daily routine, but ’twas next to impossible. For weeks, she had carried Nola with her wherever she went. To collect eggs, milk the cow, gather berries—her babe was always there, tied to her chest in a sling made from an old sheet.
She slept with the sling clutched to her chest, wept openly and without restraint.
Her arms were empty, but not nearly as empty as her heart.
For two days, she questioned her decision. What if Connor did not want a cast-off? What if they could not find a home for her? Worse yet, what if they gave her to someone who wouldn’t or couldn’t love her as much as Onnleigh? Those were the things that kept her awake at night.
By the end of the second day, her breasts were so engorged she could barely walk. She tried to press the milk out with her hands, but the relief was short-lived. Her breasts screamed for her babe. Her heart ached with longing to hold Nola in her arms once more.
Back and forth she argued in her mind.I did it fer her. Ye cannae take care o’ her, have nothin’ to offer. She deserves more than ye can give her.But her heart? Her heart worried that whomever took her in, would do it for the wrong reasons. Mayhap they’d only take her to use as a servant and not a child they loved? What if they could not protect her in the future, especially from men like Darwud?
The guilt at having given up the one thing she’d ever truly loved in her life was overwhelming. The tears would not stop, the ache in her heart would not subside. ’Twas unbearable.
By dawn on the third day, she realized she couldn’t do it, couldn’t go on without Nola. If she could just see her, find out if Connor had taken her in or given her to someone else, she’d feel better, could then move on. There was nothing left for her here, save for a few chickens and the milk cow. No fond or happy memories, save for those few, too-short memories of her daughter.
Nay, she would go to the keep, learn what she could about what had become of her babe.
If Connor had taken her in to raise as his own, then Onnleigh would move on. Mayhap another clan would take Onnleigh, offer her a new home, a new chance at a future. She didn’t want to go to the Randalls, for they were the enemy. But somewhere beyond MacCallen lands there had to be a place where no one knew she was Grueber’s daughter. A place where she wouldn’t be looked down upon simply because of the thief who had sired her. A place with kind people who would open their arms to her.
Certainly, somewhere on God’s earth, such a place must exist.
* * *
She had drapedher shawl over her head to disguise herself. The only other dress she owned was wrapped inside a small bundle, along with some wild berries and a hunk of cheese. The gates were open this morn, to allow the people who lived just outside the walls to enter freely, to do business, seek an audience with the chief, or visit with family and friends.
Onnleigh kept her head down, but her eyes and ears open in the hope she might hear some news about her babe. She wound her way through the crowds, silently listening, hoping, praying she could learn where Nola was. Her breasts ached, no matter how tightly she bound them with the old sheet. As she walked, she could feel her milk slowly leaking down her breasts and into the waist of her skirt. Hopefully, no one would notice.
She meandered out of doors for the longest time, but thus far, no one was speaking about the abandoned child. Fear crept into her heart with the thought that perhaps Connor hadn’t seen the basket when he left the kirk that night. What if he hadn’t, and Nola had succumbed to the elements? Fearing the worst, she made her way to the kirk. No basket, no babe.
Mayhap if she could not find answers without, she could find them within. Drawing on courage she hadn’t realized she possessed, she made her way back around the keep and into the kitchens.
She took a few steps inside, allowing her eyes to adjust, grateful for the warmth that surrounded her. A tall woman of mayhap fifty stood at a table chopping vegetables. Brown hair just beginning to gray at the edges, surrounded her round face. Onnleigh did not recognize her and prayed the woman would not know her either. Other people, men and women, were busy scrambling about the large space, lost in their own thoughts or concentrating on their chores.
The woman tossed the vegetables into a large wooden bowl and headed toward the hearth, where a large pot was simmering. When she caught sight of Onnleigh, she stood to her full height. “Who be ye and what do ye want?”
Frozen in place, she had to think quickly. She couldn’t very well say she was here to retrieve the babe she had abandoned three days ago. “I’ve come to see if ye have work.”
The woman rolled her eyes as she scraped the vegetables into the pot with the edge of a long knife. “Well, there be plenty of work to do around here, but none I can give ye. Keepin’ us busy, night and day, she is. ’Tis nae fair nor just, but none will listen to me.”
