Page 13 of Desire's Ransom
Of course, only the woodkerns knew it was theclannchieftain’s own flesh and blood wreaking havoc with the O’Keeffe accounts.
The ugly rumor in thetuathwas that it had been young Temair who had pushed her sister to her death six years ago. The fact that no one in theclannhad seen Temair after that night lent credibility to the rumor.
But her father, too proud to admit that a murderer had managed to slip through his fingers, claimed instead that that he’d put Temair in chains and kept her under lock and key in the tower.
Having to take the blame for Aillenn’s death tormented Temair—especially since she felt partly responsible. And part of her longed to prove her father a liar by turning up, free as a bird, on his threshold.
But as silver-haired Orlaith used to remind her, Temair could exact sweeter vengeance upon her father, keeping her distance and taking away his precious coin, than if she lived under his nose again, subject to his control.
She tied the velvet bag onto her belt and shouldered her bow.
Petty thievery would do for now. But her father owed much more than what his coffers would yield.
Now that she was older, she’d worked out what had happened to her sister. Their father may not have beat Aillenn the way he did Temair. But the damage he’d done to the innocent young lass had been far worse. Aillenn’s wounds went far deeper than Temair’s bruises. Her sister had been abused and violated. She’d borne scars that would never heal.
Temair furrowed her brows as she trudged along the narrow deer trail that intersected the main road, heading back toward the hidden cave the woodkerns called home.
It made her sick to think of what her sister must have endured. Of the pain that had driven Aillenn to take her life rather than face the revolting truth of what had been done to her by her own father.
The fact that her sister lay in a grave while Cormac O’Keeffe was still breathing gnawed at Temair’s soul.
She often dreamed of storming out of the forest, marching brazenly up to the tower house, bursting in upon her father, and shooting him straight through his black heart for what he’d done to her sister.
But any time her temper rose—when she’d had a little bit too much ale or when she was waxing melancholy over Aillenn—wise old Orlaith had spoken to her with the stern affection of a mother, telling her that revenge wasn’t worth throwing away her life.
She said Temair’s time would come. Her father’s deeds would not go unpunished. For the moment, however, there was more power in anonymity.
Orlaith had been right. And even though the old woman was two years gone now, Temair tried to keep her wisdom close at hand.
Still, it didn’t keep Temair from being impatient for revenge. And it didn’t stop the guilt that haunted her on cold and starless nights.
She should have done more.
Shecouldhave done more.
If only she hadn’t agreed to leave the stable that night…
If only she hadn’t thought her sister was exaggerating…
If only she’d convinced Aillenn to run away with her…
Temair might have prevented her sister from taking her own life.
She steeled her jaw against the unrelenting guilt. That guilt would be with her for the rest of her life, she knew. “If only” would follow her forever. Even taking vengeance upon her father couldn’t make it disappear.
She was still deep in thought when Bran and Flann came bounding out of the trees toward her, nearly knocking her down with their enthusiastic greetings.
“Any luck, Gray?” Tall Conall grinned as Temair approached the encampment.
To protect her identity, the woodkerns had given her that nickname, referring to the color of her eyes, which was usually all her victims ever saw of her.
She tossed back her hood and pulled the scarf down from her face, squirming away from the hounds’ excited licks. Then she untied the bag of coin and tossed it to him. “A safe winter for the mac Aidas.”
Fair-haired Niall came up behind Conall. “They’ll be glad to know.”
Temair tussled with her hounds. “How are ye, lads?” she cooed at the dogs. “Did ye miss me?”
She’d learned not to take her hounds with her when she was waylaying strangers. Though the enormous dogs were excellent protectors and expert hunting animals, they tended to frighten her victims away before she had the chance to harvest their riches.
