Love Beyond Compare (Book 5 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (16 page)

I didn’t know how long I’d slept but when the soft whispers from the bed stirred me, I looked up to see the fire still burning strongly and knew it couldn’t have been overlong.
 

“Isobel?” Cooper uttered her name in his version of a whisper, but it was a skill he’d still not mastered.
 

Isobel’s voice was quieter, and I had to lean to the other side of my chair to be able to hear her response.

“Aye.”
 

“Can I ask you a question? It’s not a good one to ask, but I want to know.”

“Ye can ask me anything ye wish, lad. For children, all questions are good ones. Curiosity is a bonny way to learn.”

Silence followed and I wondered for a moment if Cooper had succeeded in a true whisper and I’d simply not heard his question—then came the words that stung at my heart.
 

“Are you afraid to die?”
 

“No.”
 

I expected a pause, a moment of shock at his bold curiosity or a brief hesitation to think on the depth of such a question. Instead, she answered him quickly, confidently. It must have been something she’d asked herself many times over.
 

“Really?”

“Aye, really. I am no afraid to die. I willna be alone when my last breath leaves me. My mother, father, and a sister have long since passed. Still, no being afraid doesna mean that I want to die; nor does it mean that I am ready to do so. ’Tis sadness that lingers in me, no fear.”

I swallowed and breathed hard through my nose, knowing that if I allowed myself to breathe through my mouth, they would hear my shaky, weepy breath and know I was awake. It was far too private a conversation to intrude.

“Because of Gregor?”

“Aye, lad. Ye are still young and it should be a good many years before ye truly understand what I speak of, but I pray that one day ye will find it.”

“Find what?”
 

I heard Cooper shift beside her and knew by the tussle of the coverings that he had just snuggled in close to her, hunkering down for whatever story she had to tell him. She had his full attention and mine as well.

“The love that Gregor and I have. ’Tis verra rare and ’tis a treasure that far too many believe come guaranteed with marriage vows. Love is no so simple and is no determined by words exchanged. When ye grow a bit older, doona be so foolish to believe the lie that so many tell. Marriage does nothing for love, but ’tis separate from it entirely. Remember that and ye will save yerself and the lassie of yer heart more pain than ye know.”

“But you and Gregor are married.”

“Aye, but we dinna marry because we loved one another. We married so that we could pass through life holding the other’s hand, to help and support one another. Marriage requires a vow, but vows can be broken. Love canna ever be. Once yer heart has truly loved another person, there is no anything—no hate, no betrayal or fear that will take away that love. People may fall out of love, but even that differs from the love I speak. True love may change, but it doesna die.”

“I think I know what you mean about love.”
 

I smiled at Cooper’s response. I couldn’t wait to hear whatever surprisingly wise little analogy would come out of his mouth. He was whip-smart and could catch onto even the most adult of conversations remarkably fast.
 

“You talking about how love changes but doesn’t go away made me think of my grandfather. Not my Bebop, I love him more than I can even say. Nothing but just total love. He just gets me, you know? But my Mom’s dad, my grandfather, is different.

“When I was really little, I loved him like crazy. He had a big house with lots of room to play and even a tree house, so I always wanted to be around him. But as I got older, I could see things I didn’t see before. He’s not a very nice person. I don’t really like him but…when I think about him, something gets warm right in the center of my chest, and I know that no matter how mean he is, and no matter how much I don’t really like to see him, I do love him. And when he’s gone, I’ll miss him very much.”

A sniffle escaped me, and I scrambled to turn the noise into a sleepy-like snore. When they didn’t call out to me, I assumed my little gasp had gone unnoticed.
 

In one brief minute, Cooper had summed up all of the complicated emotions I had about my father that I’d spent the better part of two decades trying to sort through myself. When we returned to McMillan Castle, I planned to enlist the little stinker as my private therapist.
 

“Aye, ’tis much of what I mean.”

“But it’s even more for you and Gregor. That’s why you’re so sad.”

“Aye. In Gregor, I met the man whose soul understood every bit of my own. From the first day I knew him, he took a piece of me and I took an even larger part of him. I love him more than I love myself, but I know that he needs me more than I do him. ’Tis often that way with men. ’Tis why women, if they survive their childbearing years, often outlive their husbands; we are more resilient than most men, but I doona doubt that ye, wee Cooper, will be the exception. I know that when I die, that part of him will die with me. It breaks my heart to know that my death will leave him broken.”

I thought of Cooper’s Bebop and knew that Cooper had it in him to be the exception Isobel spoke of. His Bebop certainly had been. Despite the heartbreak of his wife’s death, he had carried on and raised one of the finest men I knew.
 

“Do you want to know what I think about love, Isobel?”

“I do verra much. Please tell me.”

“I think that sometimes when grown-ups love someone so much that they start to take care of them, like you have Gregor, they start to see them as weaker than they are. It’s the same thing with my mom. She’s cared for me my whole life, so even though I’m six, she still sees me as two. Broken things can be fixed. He will be okay someday.”

There was a soft sob from the bed followed by Cooper’s soft shh… to sooth her. I’d heard Isobel cry before, but I’d never known her to allow herself to cry in front of another. Children wielded untold power in their truth-bearing words.
 

“Shh now, Isobel. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Ach, ye dinna upset me, Cooper. Ye have done my heart more good than ye know. I am less sad than I once was, and the happiness I feel at that has made me weep.”

“My mom cries when she’s happy too. I don’t really get it. That must be a girl thing.”

Isobel laughed softly. I smiled, my eyes still closed while I feigned sleep.
 

“Aye, we women often do. We cry when sad, happy, or even angry. ’Tis a curse.”

“I’m sorry I woke you, Isobel. Are you ready to go back to sleep? Is it okay if I stay here with you?”

“Ye dinna wake me, and aye to both questions. ’Tis comforting to know ye are here to watch after me. Sweetest dreams to ye, Cooper.”

Isobel and Cooper drifted quickly but I remained awake, staring into the dwindling flames of the fire as the night melted away. The dancing light lulled me into a sort of silent meditation where I willed good wishes for all within Cagair Castle and most especially for the one dear friend who remained out in the storm.
 

CHAPTER 21

“Wake up, wake up, Aunt Jane. He’s back!”
 

“Huh? Coop, what are you doing? What are you talking about?” My eyes flickered open as I fought the sleepy confusion that comes with being awakened so abruptly. I lifted my sore neck slowly, all the while trying to remember why I’d slept in a chair instead of my own bed. Then I caught sight of my empty bed and the stairways just outside the door. “Cooper, where’s Isobel? Did something happen? She should still be in bed.”

“She’s fine, Aunt Jane, I promise. She’s feeling much better today. But Orick’s back, and he’s fine! He wasn’t really in any danger at all. Hurry, hurry, everyone is in the dining hall eating breakfast, and you’re missing it.” He ran out of the room urging me to follow with the waving of his arms.
 

The good news did considerable things for my alertness. With a lifted heart, I stood and stretched before running my fingers through my hair and heading to join the others for the morning meal.
 

“Orick!” I called out to him as I entered the room. Immediately he moved toward me, scooping me up into a hug strong enough to crack my sore shoulders and lift my feet at least a foot off the ground. “God, I’m glad to see you.”

“And I ye, lass. ’Twas a cold night, but I fared well enough. Holed up with the lad who took in our horses, I did, and then spent the eve eating his wife’s cooking and visiting by the fire. There were many who were far worse off than I.”

“We were so worried about you, but I expected you were smart enough to not try and make it back here during such a storm. How’d you get through all of the snow this morning?”
 

Before he could answer, Adwen came up and smacked him hard on the arm.
 

“I think ye can set her down now, Orick.”

“Aye, I could, but I can tell it displeases ye, so I think I’ll hold onto the lass a wee bit longer. Do ye mind, Jane?”

I laughed, leaning back to look mischievously in Adwen’s direction. I wasn’t particularly short for a woman, but I felt tiny and delicate in Orick’s long, strong arms. “I don’t mind at all. Hang on as long as you like.”

“Aye, I will then. What did ye just ask me? How I made it here this morning? Aye, well, funny story that. I met a man in the village who traveled with a pack of dogs, ye see. He strapped them to a wooden sled, and they pulled me here before returning to their master.”

“You’re kidding.”
 

“No, I doona jest at all. I couldna believe it myself when the man offered the large beasts for my use.”

Giving me a swift kiss on the cheek after glancing in Adwen’s direction to make sure he was looking, Orick set me down.
 

“Well, I’m so relieved you are back safely. And it looks like the worst part of the storm has passed as well.”
 

“That it has, lass. ’Tis warm enough for it to start melting as well so the bridge will be passable after a day or two.”

Now with both feet touching the ground, I moved to the table to sit next to Isobel. I smiled at her as she spoke up in between mouthfuls of food.
 

“I canna tell ye how pleased my heart is to see ye here, Orick. I feel better today than I have in many moons, no matter the fall I took on the stairs. ’Tis a wonder what a happy heart may do for healing.”

I’d never seen her with such a hearty appetite. The day before, I’d wondered if Isobel would live to see another day but, looking at her now, with the color back in her cheeks and a cough that was much less frequent than her usually deep racks of the chest, I found it difficult to believe that her fall the day before had happened at all.
 

 
The ups and downs of Isobel’s illness were an oddity I couldn’t make sense of. Just when she seemed to be at her weakest, she would pull out of it and, for a few short days, have renewed energy followed by a brief respite from the painful cough that always accompanied her. The same had happened right before and during our travels to the castle.
 

I watched her closely as we ate, looking for any sign that she felt worse than she appeared to; that perhaps she put on a brave face so that the rest of us could enjoy Orick’s safe return without worrying over her but, as the meal passed, I found nothing to make me believe that she didn’t feel remarkably better than she had the day before.
 

“What are ye staring at, Jane?”

I blinked to find Isobel’s brows pinched together as she stared at me quizzically.
 

“I’m sorry. Nothing. I’m just surprised to see you doing so much better.”

“Why would ye be surprised? All days canna be bad ones. If they were then no one would have the strength to fight against the illnesses that plague them. I had a dream last night. In it, a red-haired angel told me to no let the sickness affect my mind and heart.”

“What does that mean?”

Cooper’s question was a vocal expression of the skepticism plastered on each of our faces but as she answered, Isobel didn’t seem to notice.
 

“That I shouldna give in to sorrow or fear, for I am no yet dead. Perhaps, I can still live past this.”

I glanced in Gregor’s direction to see him flinch slightly, and I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort him. I refrained from doing so. The gesture would only draw attention that I knew he didn’t want.
 

Of everyone at the table, Gregor seemed the least pleased by Isobel’s cheery outlook. I realized then just how much his own perspective had changed over the course of a few weeks. Before, it had been him who held out hope, wishing all the while that Isobel would fight, that she would believe that she could get better. Now it seemed their roles had been reversed.

 
Whether it was our trip here or the presence of a child wise beyond his years, Isobel had decided to rally in whatever way she could. But as I looked at the sadness in Gregor’s eyes, I knew that her hope only broke his heart. He no longer believed her willpower to live would do her any good.