Page 30 of Highland Yule
“I remember a time we would have raced each other at this juncture.” Colmac joined them and met her smile. “Do ye remember lass?”
“All too well.” She chuckled, fondly recalling the many times they had raced across this very field. “If ‘twas not for the snow and ice, I would race ye now and beat ye just like I always did.”
“Ha!” He met her chuckle. “Is that how ye remember it?”
They laughed as they headed forward. What a wondrous thing to be home again. Though she had both anticipated and dreaded this moment, it was far less sad than she imagined and she knew why.
She glanced at Colmac again, so very grateful he was here.
That she was not facing this eve alone.
Upon arrival in the courtyard, they were greeted by many, and she rarely had dry eyes. The wall surrounding the castle had been expanded substantially years ago, and many more cottages were built within. Well-protected, they were part of a thriving community where commerce was alive and well.
Fiddles and pipes played, a merry backdrop to the falling snow. A variety of wares were sold from multiple carts, last minute gifts for the midnight hour. Children raced around, playing and laughing. Couples both young and old strolled by and nodded at them in greeting.
Tiernan assured Rona that her chambers were ready for her arrival then left to see to business. Brighid and Aaron floated off together as well, charmed by something that caught their attention.
“Shall we then, lass?” Colmac held out his elbow to her at the base of the stairs leading to the castle’s great hall.
She smiled and looped her elbow with his. “We shall.”
They climbed and admired the endless holly and ribbons strewn about. Colmac nodded and thanked a lass who gave him two mugs teeming with whisky. He handed her one, his smile firmly in place.
“It doesnae seem right,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“My clan doing so well when others struggle.”
“’Tis what it is,” he replied. “What ye overlook is how much the MacLomains help not only their people but other clans at every turn.” He shook his head. “’Tis a rare clan that builds an extra wall and numerous cottages so that more might be safe. People that werenae even a part of their clan.”
“Aye,” she whispered, proud. “They have always been exceptional.”
“So ye dinnae need to feel guilt that ye see one thing here and another at my castle.” He gave her a pointed look. “All that matters is the happiness ye witness at both.” Warmth lit his gaze. “Because ye did, aye?”
“I did,” she agreed. “Ye really have done well by them Colmac.”
“I have only helped them along,” he replied. “Once my cousins get home from war, the MacLauchlins will start rebuilding. Mark my words.”
“Now that ye have rebuilt yer clan’s foundation, how else can it be?” She squeezed his hand. “Never forget that. ‘Twas ye that brought yer people back from a verra dark place.”
Clearly grateful for her words, he squeezed her hand in return. Near the top of the stairs, he leapt ahead despite his limp and opened the door for her. He bowed and made a hand flourish that she enter. “Wishing ye a verra warm welcome home, lass.”
Just like it had all day, her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. She nodded, curtsied in thanks then walked into the MacLomain great hall.
She put a hand to her heart and took it all in. “’Tis just as I remember.”
A fire burned on the monstrous hearth at the far side of the hall. As always, the faces carved into its mantle seemed to celebrate alongside endless folk. Candles and torches burned everywhere lighting monstrous tapestries depicting oceanscapes, and even a mighty Viking said to be their ancestor. Sweet and spicy scents filled the air and pipes played, echoing far and wide. Red berries speckled vibrant green holly, and festive ribbons hung all about.
“’Tis bonny, aye?” Colmac whispered in her ear from behind, weakening her knees. “But not nearly as bonny as...”
When he trailed off, she understood why. A little girl had just stopped in front of them and offered Rona a ribbon to tie in her hair for the holiday. She smiled in thanks and took it, staring for a moment before she looked at Colmac. “’Tis the same ribbon that tied the scrolls, aye?”
“Aye, lass, ‘tis the verra same,” Adlin confirmed, joining them. He looked from the ribbon to her and shockingly enough, referred to the last letter Bróccín had left her. “Have ye not a question for me then, lass? Mayhap what should have been yers from the beginning?”
