Lady of Light (40 page)

But Noah would surely know how to help her. He could guide her back to the path. He, after all, was her special gift from God in this new land.

“He’ll see you now,” Millie said, returning from his study. “He’s just finishing up a few last thoughts for Sunday’s sermon, or he would’ve come for you himself.”

“It’s no problem,” Claire said, taking Millie’s hand in hers. “I wouldn’t be troubling him now, but it’s verra important.”

“Noah doesn’t mind, child. Truly he doesn’t.” His aunt gave her hand a squeeze. “Afterward, if you’ve got the time, maybe we can have a spot of tea and visit a bit.”

“Aye, mayhap.”

Claire turned then and walked to Noah’s study. The door was ajar. She peeked in. He was just putting away his papers, so she entered.

At the sight of her, the priest grinned broadly. “I’m so glad you came, Claire.” He rose, came around his huge oak desk, and clasped both her hands in his. “Come, let’s sit by the window and talk.”

He led her past the two walls of bookshelves stuffed with books, across a blue, red, and green fringed Aubusson rug, to the room’s only window. Two blue damaskcovered wing chairs sat before the window’s dark green, velvet drapes. Claire took her place in one chair, and Noah soon joined her in the other.

“So, what brings you to see me today?” he asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees. “Have all the problems with Ian and Evan finally been cleared up?”

“Nay, not yet,” Claire said with a sigh. “Though no charges have been pressed against either of them, so far they’re still considered suspects. It’s all so ridiculous, though. You know Evan well enough to know he wouldn’t kill a man in cold blood. And Ian’s but a sixteen-year-old lad.”

“I know that, Claire, and I suspect Sheriff Whitmore does, too. You must just be patient, though I’d imagine that’s hard to do right now considering the circumstances.”

“I’ve tried, Noah, but it doesn’t seem to help. All I see is how it’s tearing us all apart. And I feel caught in the middle, between Evan and Ian. And now, because of his concern for Beth, Evan wants to send Ian away.”

“I wondered what would come of that night I found Beth and Ian together.”

She dug her nails hard into her palms to keep from crying. “Ian’s a troubled lad. It was bad enough when he caused problems back in Scotland. But now he threatens Evan and Beth, and the MacKays. I can’t let my brother do that, yet if Evan sends him away, it might well destroy the lad.”

“You also cannot sacrifice your own life and happiness for Ian, either. And, if you’ll forgive my saying this, I don’t think you can help him on your own, Claire. Ian needs more than just you can give.”

“Mayhap,” she whispered, ducking her head to hide her tears, “but I won’t send him away to some reformatory or special school. Since we were children, we’ve always pledged, one to the other, to be there for each other.
I’m
the one who first took him away from the safety of home and a family, because I couldn’t stomach the woman my mither had become, or the man she had wed. It was
my
arrogance and selfishness that thrust my wee brother into the world he was ill prepared to endure. Yet he never once complained or accused me of ruining his life. And he has always been there for me, through good times and bad.”

“Yet he cannot seem to allow you this happiness with Evan,” Noah offered gently. “Why is that, do you think?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Mayhap because he’s a wee bit jealous of sharing the attention and affection. Mayhap because, save for Beth, he has no other friends and is lonely. And mayhap he doesn’t know how to be happy, or doesn’t feel he deserves it at any rate.” Claire covered her face with her hands. “Och, I don’t know what to think, or do for him anymore!”

“Well, for starters, how about placing your trust in the Lord?”

She looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. “I’m trying, Noah. Truly I am, but God just seems so verra far away right now. I don’t know if I can find Him again. Indeed, I don’t even know what He wishes of me anymore.”

“He’s not as far away as you may think, Claire.” The young priest’s lips lifted in quiet understanding. “Ofttimes, when we feel farthest from the Lord, He is there, right beside us. As the Lord is with you, right now.”

“I’ve put Him from my heart and mind for a long while. I don’t deserve—”

“
None
of us, no matter how good we are, deserves the Lord’s love,” he was quick to counter. “But it’s there for us nonetheless, without end, without measure. All it takes is for us to turn to Him, and ask.”

Strangely, Noah’s words made Claire think of Evan. She gave a shaky laugh. “Aye, as you say, God might well take me back, forgive me, and love me time and again. But I’m not so certain how many more times my husband will do the same. Not, leastwise, if he must also do the same for my brother.”

“Times are hard for the two of you just now, but there’s still hope you can weather the storm together.”

There was such tender compassion in Noah Starr’s eyes Claire wanted to weep. “I don’t know what to do to help make peace between them. I pray to God every night that He’ll help them, but He seems not to answer.”

“Keep on praying. Don’t give up. Both Evan and Ian are in pain right now, both struggling to find their way out of the darkness that surrounds them. You must be their light, Claire. A light of love and compassion to guide them through that darkness.”

Strange, she mused, but Father MacLaren had once said similar words to her. It had been that day in the rectory, when he had first mentioned the growing affection between her and Evan, encouraging her to open herself more fully to life and love. But what had it gotten her in the end, she thought bitterly, this opening of her heart to Evan and others? Indeed, she hadn’t been able to help anyone. All her efforts had been for naught.

“Och, I’m so verra weary!” she cried, a frustrated despair filling her. “I can barely find strength to keep myself going. I haven’t aught left to give to anyone.”

“You have more than you think left yet to give. And what you lack the Lord will supply, if only you turn to Him and place your trust in Him. The cup of compassion not shared is wasted, but the cup spilled out on others is continually refilled.”

“Och, fine words,” she muttered, her frustration mounting, “but I told you, I’m weary of trying. All I want is for the pain to end!”

This wasn’t helping, Claire realized with a renewed rush of despair. This time, it seemed even Noah couldn’t help her. Besides, there was no point in belaboring a subject she had already made up her mind about.

Claire climbed to her feet. “I must be going.”

Noah stood, his gaze full of sorrow. “Just promise me one thing more.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what might that be?”

“Think on what I’ve said, and don’t make any decisions about anything just yet.” He took her hand in his. “You’re the heart of your family, Claire. You’re the love. And Evan needs you as much as your brother does.”

“Och, a-aye.” Her voice broke as she thought suddenly of the unborn child who might never know its father. Would she ultimately fail it, too, as she seemed to be failing everyone else? “If I’m the heart and love of my family, we’re all in a verra bad way. And
that
frightens me most of all.”

22

For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of the light.

Ephesians 5:8

Evan rose early, then headed downstairs in the quiet house to start up the cookstove and put on a pot of water for coffee. Next, as was his routine, he left for his usual hour’s worth of chores before breakfast. The sun barely peeked over the horizon by the time he finally made his way back to the house—a house he could no longer enter anymore with any real feeling of pleasure.

To his surprise, the kitchen was as he had left it, save that the fire in the cookstove was raging and the water in the coffeepot had all but boiled away. “Claire?” Evan called as he walked through the house, and then down the stairs into the cellar. “Are you there? Is something wrong? Why isn’t breakfast started?”

She was nowhere to be found. With growing concern, Evan set out for the bunkhouse, where Claire and her brother had taken up what was beginning to seem permanent residence. He knocked on the door. No one answered. He knocked again, harder this time.

“Claire, Ian! Are you all right in there?”

Finally, fear beginning to lick at him, Evan tried the door handle, which opened easily. He walked into a silent house, the only sounds the dying fire popping and snapping in the little parlor’s potbellied stove, and the incessant ticking of the table clock. A quick search revealed neither Claire nor Ian was present. Most of their clothing was also gone, as was Claire’s harp.

Evan raced back into the parlor, glancing frantically around. His gaze fell on a white sheet of paper folded in two and propped on the table between the clock and a small pile of books. His heart pounding with dread, Evan picked up the note and read it.

His vision blurred. He threw back his head and groaned. Then, with a sudden, wild surge of fury, he crumpled the note in his hand and hurled it against the nearest wall.

Claire was gone, as was Ian. Apparently her love for her brother was far stronger and deeper than had ever been her love for him. Evan collapsed in one of the chairs by the table and buried his face in his hands. He felt on the verge of tears, but for some reason the tears wouldn’t come. Myriad emotions roiled within him—confusion, anger, hurt, and a soul-deep sense of betrayal.

Claire was his wife. She had vowed to remain with him through good times and bad, until death parted them. How could she do this to him, to their marriage?

It was all that selfish, troublesome boy’s fault! If it hadn’t been for him, none of this would’ve happened. Yet, even as Evan heaped all the blame on Ian, he knew that he was as much at fault as was the boy. His own actions, or lack of them, had driven Claire away just as surely as had Ian’s.

He shook his head and groaned again, the sound little more than a mournful sough in the hushed, empty house. No matter what she might have done, in keeping secrets from him, in frequently putting her brother’s needs over his, he still loved Claire with all his heart. What would he do without her?
What would he do?

More than anything he had ever wanted, Evan wished his father was back home. His father would know what to do. His first wife—Evan’s mother—had left him, too. His father would understand how it felt, could advise him.

“God, why?” Evan shouted suddenly, lifting a face ravaged with grief and anger. “We wed in
Your
church, before one of
Your
priests, in
Your
sight. How
could
You let this happen?”

But why wouldn’t God let it happen? Evan asked himself bitterly. It wasn’t as if he had ever particularly gone out of his way to follow the Lord. Oh, sure, he went to church every Sunday now that he was home, said all the prayers and sang all the hymns along with everyone else. And he tried to treat people decently. But when had he ever turned to God in times of trouble, thought to ask for His help? Or, more importantly still, when had he given Him thanks or thought of Him in the good times?

It didn’t sit well with Evan now, to come whining and begging for God’s help, when he couldn’t ever be bothered before. His pride would’ve never allowed him to treat another person that way. He sure wasn’t about to do that to God.

He’d just have to figure out what to do all by himself. That was what a man did, and he
had
been claiming that prerogative for a while now. He’d just have to figure this one out, come up with some way to get Claire back. He wasn’t about to let some snot-nosed kid come between him and his wife. He wasn’t about to give up on his marriage either.

Outside, he could hear the hands beginning to file onto the back porch and enter the kitchen for their breakfast. Evan shook his head. How was he going to explain where Claire was or why there wouldn’t be much of a breakfast this morning, save maybe some jelly sandwiches and coffee?

Evan pushed to his feet. First things first, he resolved. He’d get Beth up to help with breakfast, pack for the journey ahead, and then go have a quick talk with Devlin. In his father’s absence, his relationship with his cousin had grown into a surprising friendship. And, one way or another, Devlin needed to know what was going on.

There was no doubt in Evan’s mind that he’d then head out after his wife. The problem lay in deciding what he’d say once he found Claire, and how he’d convince her to come home.