Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (27 page)

Seana bit into her lip, and grimaced over the truth of it. “I know,” she confessed.

He sniffed the room, and then grinned again, softening the blow of his words. “Strike a flame,” he said, “and there would be naught left of us to worry about!”

Seana wanted to smack him. Och, it wasn’t that bad! But she laughed despite herself, adding, “Hush yourself, Broc!”

Though he did have a point, and she drew out the other stool to sit upon, considering it.

Her
uisge beatha
was far too strong for man or beast—nor even the hardiest Scotsman. She was lucky enough not to have had deaths on her conscience, though she hadn’t really considered the strength of her spirits until now. She had been far too concerned with simply supplying the demand.

“Dinna worry, Seana. I will help you… until ye have a better batch to sell. Dinna fash yourself o’er it, lass.”

Pride dictated that she refuse. Common sense told her she could not. She tilted her head to look at him there upon the floor. “You’re a good friend to me, Broc. A verra good friend.”

He winked at her. “And you’re a verra sweet lass. And will do verra well, I think.”

If only her heart were not aching.

If only she did not yearn for the one man she could not have.

She sat contemplating her options, trying not to think about Colin or how close she had come to giving him all that she possessed.

It wasn’t so much her name she would have ruined, for she had no name to speak of. She was Donal the drunk’s daughter, after all, and no one had ever expected anything of her—save that she might rob their pantries and steal their laundry!

Nay, but tonight she had come close to losing the one thing she couldn’t bear to. She had very nearly lost her pride.

She was fine.

Colin stood outside her door and listened to the voices within.

Seana and Broc.

Broc must have come here to wait on her, and Seana had obviously never intended to stay at Meghan’s. How else could the two of them find themselves together so quickly, when she had only just left him?

No wonder she had panicked and fled. He had very nearly seduced her and her heart belonged still to Broc.

“Aye, well… ye dinna have to stay here,” he heard Broc say.

Colin couldn’t help himself. He tried to walk away, but he couldn’t. He stood there eavesdropping, feeling like a lout, his heart squeezing him all the while.

“I know,” Seana replied.

Their voices muffled for a moment, and Colin strained to hear them, swallowing his pride.

“Why, I think I am the luckiest woman I know!” Seana said, and Colin heard the truth in her tone.

She believed it.

She was in love with Broc.

She had been telling him so from the first, and he hadn’t wanted to believe her.

He didn’t bother knocking. He didn’t wish to intrude. He’d been fooling himself to believe he had a chance to win her at all. And it served him right. He didn’t deserve her. She deserved far more than what Colin could give her.

Their voices faded behind him, and it was all he could do to keep himself from turning back and bursting like a madman into her home.

Fight for her,
a little voice declared. Go back and fight for her if you love her!

Broc was his best friend.

He couldn’t.

Seana was surely worth it, but he couldn’t go back after hearing the joy in her voice.

Why, I think I am the luckiest woman I know!
he heard her say once more, and he winced.

He wanted that for her. He truly did. She deserved happiness and if Broc could give it to her, then he wanted even that…

God help him, he would find a way to be happy for her, because Seana was the finest woman he’d ever known.

But she had spoiled him forever.

He couldn’t imagine now kissing another pair of lips… couldn’t imagine running his fingers through softer hair…

He didn’t want anyone else.

His heart squeezed within his breast as he walked away. With every step, the forest grew darker, like a somber blanket that would never again be lifted.

Without her, nothing seemed to matter anymore.

The sound of weeping caught Seana’s attention.

For an instant, she thought she might have imagined it, but she cast a glance at Broc to see his expression perked as well. Her brows drew together as she listened.

She couldn’t quite tell if it were far away… or near… but it was definitely a child’s sobs.

“Dinna leave Seana to cry,”
her da had said.

Could this be what he had been speaking of?

Could he, in his fevered state, have imagined this child to be her? Except that… Seana did not recall the weeping when she was here last.

“Do you hear it?” Broc asked, cocking his head.

“I do!” She rose.

“Where is it coming from?”

“I dunno,” Seana replied, wandering the room as she listened to the distant sound. It was a wee child, she was certain. It didn’t sound anything at all like an animal, though that had been her first thought. She walked nearer to her father’s pallet, following the sound.

It grew louder—barely, though it did.

Reaching out, she tentatively touched the dirt wall beside her father’s bed. The sound stopped. She turned to look at Broc. He was lying still upon the floor, listening intently, his expression curious.

Every sort of thought flew through Seana’s mind—everything, from those of the spiritual, to those more mundane: She didn’t believe in magic… or brownies. Neither did she believe in spirits—or that My Love could possibly be her dear minny come back to life as a bloody cat! But her da was certainly of a different mind, and the sound of the child weeping sent a quiver down her spine.

“It stopped,” he said, and Seana raised a brow at him for stating the obvious. His expression remained thoughtful.

Seana moved away from the wall, and at once the weeping started again. “Och!” she exclaimed. “It sounds as though ’tis coming from the other side of this wall!”

“And what’s there?” Broc asked.

“Naught,” Seana answered, becoming as confused as Broc appeared. “Naught at all.”

She moved toward the door, just to see if the sound remained strong, but the weeping grew more distant… though still it was an echo in the room. She moved toward it again, and it grew stronger. Puzzled, she touched the wall again, feeling it… contemplating it…

The weeping continued, and Seana knelt upon her father’s pallet and placed her ear to the wall.

After a moment more, the weeping stopped. “’Tis verra strange.” She shook her head, turning to face Broc. “This wall… it sounds as though it is hollow behind…”

“Is that possible?”

Seana shrugged, and turned once more to place her ear against it. “I did not think so… but mayhap. There are many cairns in this area. My da used this one, because it was overly large, but there are many others. Only I did not think any others were so near!”

Broc rose from the dirt floor and came to stand beside her. The crying began once more. “Is there an entrance, mayhap… from this room?”

Seana peered up at him and gave him a chiding look for his question. “Och, but if there were, dinna ye think I would know it after all these years? Nay,” she assured him.

“It sounds like a child,” he said, concern in his voice.

Seana agreed.

Both listened to the sound, and though Seana knew better, she groped at the wall, looking for some way in… some crack in it… something…

The cairn’s walls seemed solid. The stones were piled high against the cliff that bore Chreagach Mhor, forming a roof of sorts over this cave… a roof that was riddled with cracks. But much of the room itself was actually below ground, keeping them sheltered from the wind. This wall, however, besides being solidly of dirt… sat flush with the cliff… or so she had thought…

“What’s behind this, Seana?” he asked once more, and Seana knew he was frustrated with her first answer. But if he intended that she should enlighten him, it wasn’t going to happen. “I thought it was the cliff wall. I dunno, Broc… I truly dunno…”

Broc pushed against the wall suddenly, trying to dislodge it by sheer force. Big as he was, it wasn’t going to move, and Seana waited for him to discover that on his own. Or mayhap some part of her hoped she was wrong. The weeping was surely not her imagination, and whoever it was, was certainly in distress.

And if it were a child…

Seana pushed at the wall, as well, entirely in vain, desperate to help.

“There is no way in there!” she told Broc with certainty.

The child’s weeping increased…

If they could hear it, the thought occurred to her suddenly… perhaps the child could hear them, as well?

“Is anybody in there?” Seana called out, and felt silly for asking the question. If both she and Broc heard the weeping, there was obviously someone there.

“Who’s there?” Broc shouted at the top of his lungs, tilting his head up to the stone roof. The sound of it reverberated throughout, startling even Seana.

The weeping stopped suddenly.

“Hallooooo!” Seana called out, and pounded the wall with her hand to no avail. “Is anybody there?”

No answer, but Seana wasn’t satisfied. She had heard the weeping, and so had Broc, and there was somebody in there! If it were a child, it was no wonder they would not answer. They were like to be frightened out of their wits! She pushed away from the wall and rose to her feet.

Hurrying outside, she peered up at the cliffside, inspecting it.

Far above them, barely a silhouette against the night sky sat Chreagach Mhor, MacKinnon’s fortress, in all its glory. Its walls composed the only stone fortress in these highlands, but all of it… these cairns… the druid stones that guarded them… had been here for far longer than Seana could say. They were remnants of a time long past… relics of the ancients… shrouded in mystery… like the
uisge beatha
her father made.

The cliffs were, indeed behind her home… the stones piled high against it… Seana didn’t see how it was possible anyone could be there…

She studied the construction in the darkness. Broc followed her out, and stood beside her.

“What is it?”

“Is she still weepin’? I canna hear it any longer from here.”

“Aye,” he replied.

Seana shook her head, confused. “’Tis as though she is
buried
in the cliff,” she mused aloud. “The sound is coming from the other side of that wall… but there is naught there.”

Broc remained silent, studying the cairn’s construction along with Seana.

“I thought mayhap I would hear her out here, but nay…”

The cliffs were nestled against the woodlands. It was difficult, then, to see anything more than what was immediately visible to the eye. To explore the cliffside thoroughly, one would have to search it through bracken and forest, and Seana had never really done so…

Might there be another entrance? Another cairn that adjoined with this one? It didn’t seem probable, but that weeping was coming from somewhere. She couldn’t hear it very well outside, so it couldn’t be merely an echo carried down from the cliffs above. Betimes she could hear the sound of voices from above.

“Come with me, Broc,” she demanded of him, her tone filled with determination, and he followed her inside the cairn. She lifted two torches, fairly unused, from within their braces and lit them from a third that was beginning to flicker. She handed one to Broc and motioned him to follow outside once more.

“Ye search the right side o’ the cliff. I shall search to the left,” she directed him. “If ye find something, then call me, and I shall do the same.”

Broc took the torch from her, nodding. Seana didn’t wait. She left Broc looking a bit bewildered, and she wondered if he were unused to taking direction from a woman. Well, it couldn’t be helped. There was a child out there needing to be found, and they weren’t going to accomplish the task by standing inside the cairn, asking each other silly questions.

She began searching the cliffside, wading through bracken and woodland, hoping to find some other entrance, some aperture through which a child might wander. She knew this land far better than Broc did, and so she had sent him in the direction of the loch, where the woodlands cleared and the cliffside itself was far more apparent.