The Courageous Highlander by Lily Baldwin

Author:Lily Baldwin [Baldwin, Lily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lily Baldwin
Published: 2019-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Owen stood in the courtyard, his heart grave. In front of him, five funeral pyres were positioned in a row. Beyond his departed kin, the setting sun painted the surrounding moorland to the east and the sea to the west in warm shades of gold and rose. Behind him, Clan MacArthur had gathered to bid farewell to those whom they would never stop loving. Through a blur of tears, Owen slowly touched each pyre with the flame of the torch he gripped, his knuckles white from the strain of his emotions.

One by one, the fires rose high, carrying the departed spirits upward toward the Heavens...Ainslee, the smithy’s wife, a kind-hearted woman who many believed to have been the finest singer in the clan; Moriag, their ancient healer; Finn, a child of seven years who had begun to train with the hunters but would never take aim at his first stag; Mary, a widow and one of his mother’s closest companions who was known for her sharp-tongue and fierce spirit; and Hamish who had known more than sixty summers and had been Owen’s greatest adviser—he, Owen would miss most of all.

The heat from the fires warmed his face and melted the snow around the tall piles of tree limbs and branches. Garnering his strength, he took a deep breath. Life on the mountains was hard—a fact he had known since his earliest years when he would stand beside his father and bid farewell to those who had departed. Each and every time, he had been heartsore and mourned the loss of his kin.

But as laird, his grief was different.

Each member of Clan MacArthur was his responsibility. He was father to all, and when he lost a kinsman, he battled not only sorrow but inwardly directed anger.

“There was nothing ye could have done,” he heard a gentle voice say.

He shifted his gaze. Gwynn had come forward to stand at his side. She placed her hand in his. “Ye’re not to blame. The Heavens have called them home.”

Taking a deep breath, he accepted her gentle reminder. With a grateful heart, he pulled her close and gazed down at her freckled nose and soft brown eyes. “Ye’re an angel, an angel sent to heal my clan.”

A shadow crossed over her face. “I’m certainly no angel.” Then she stood tall and looked him straight in the eye. “But I vow to ye, Owen, that I will always try my best to help ye and yer clan in any way I can.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That is all any of us can do—our best.” A sad smile curved his lips. “A truth I, too, needed to remember.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, taking the warmth of color and light with it. Only the greys and violets of twilight painted the moors and waves. And as stars appeared in the darkening sky, the wind picked up, blasting the mountain side with its icy fingers.

“’Tis time,” he said, taking her hand. “Be by my side this eventide.

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