Love Beyond Compare (Book 5 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (30 page)

He stood by the window until they were past the bridge and no longer in view. At least now, he could roam the entire castle with his grief and not worry about being bothered. He turned to see Callum standing in the doorway.

“’Tis no yet another meal time. I doona care to eat again.”

Callum stared hard at him, the sympathy for him gone, his eyes suddenly angry. “I’m done bringing ye food. Ye are a grown man acting like a child. Do ye think ye are the only one that lost him, Adwen?”

Every mention of Orick’s death was like a punch in the gut. In brief moments, the loss would seem less. Then it would crash down on him until the pain seemed unbearable. “Aye, the others only knew him a few moons.”

“Damn ye, Adwen. Ye are an ignorant fool. Ye’ve only known Jane a few moons. Would ye say ye love her less than ye did Orick?”

There was no one he loved more than Jane. She had captured him from the first moment. With Orick, he felt he had lost a piece of his very soul. “No.”

“Aye, I know. And the others loved him deeply as well. And what of me, Adwen? Do ye think that I doona have feelings? I was raised with Orick just as ye were. He was my brother and Griffith’s as well. Da will feel he’s lost a son when he learns. I’ve sent riders for them, but ’twill be ages before we hear from them.”

Of course, Callum grieved for Orick. He’d only been too lost in his own pain to think of it. “I’m sorry, brother. I know ye loved him and he, ye. Do ye mean to make me feel more guilty than I already do? I’m in enough pain without ye giving me more.”

“Ye are arrogant and selfish. Someone needs to tell ye so ye will wake up. Is that why ye sent her away—ye felt guilty? Ye should. Ye’ve torn the lass to pieces for no reason. Why did ye tell her that ye knew she couldna have children? I told ye that so ye’d comfort her, let her know that ye doona care. Instead, ye used it to send her away. I doona think ye are the sort of man who would find fault in a lass for that. Did ye mean what ye said to her?”

It had hurt him to lie to her, but he’d thought it necessary. She was as stubborn as him. He knew she’d not leave unless wounded. “No, o’course I dinna. I’ll love her ’til my last breath leaves me, but she deserves someone who willna destroy her.”

Callum shook his head, laughing at him in disgust. “Yer grief has made ye daft. Ye will only destroy yerself if ye doona stop this foolishness. Ye may feel destroyed now because ye are, but ye willna be forever. Doona make choices now in the midst of yer sadness that will alter the path of yer life. She was meant for ye, Adwen. But ye are no ready for her. No if ye would treat her as ye did this day.”

Adwen sat down, the ache in his chest returning. He knew that. “Aye, so ye see why I did what I did. Now, leave me be.”

“No, ’tis no my job to coddle ye. Orick may have been a man of great patience, but if he saw the way ye treated Jane this morning, he would kick yer arse out of this room just as I’m about to.”

A small, painful chuckle escaped him—the first time he’d seen humor in anything since the accident. “Ye are no capable of it, Callum.”

“Do ye no think so?”
 

Callum approached him where he sat. Before Adwen could stand, Callum’s foot slammed into him, knocking him to the floor.
 

“Get up and gather yer things and get out of the castle.”

Adwen stood, too stunned to rise to anger. He rubbed his bum as he stared with wide eyes at his brother. “What?”

“Ye doona wish to be laird. Ye shouldna be either. Even with Jane by yer side, ’twould make ye bitter to stay locked here in this castle. Give me the land, and I’ll be laird. Leave here, deal with yer grief and make peace with yer guilt. Be alone in this world for a time. Ye’ve never truly been so, and ye willna be ready for a lass like Jane until ye have. Then, when ye’ve gained some perspective, go to her and beg for her to take ye back. Each day between now and then, pray to all the saints that she doesna find someone better than ye before ye become a man worthy of her.”

*
 
*
 
*

Adwen rode away from Cagair Castle unsure of where to go but, as his horse crossed the bridge, he knew it was right to leave. He could never heal at Cagair Castle—not when the memory of that horrid day came rushing back with every glance outside.
 

He would take the time he needed. Then he would make the journey back to Jane.
 

CHAPTER 44

McMillan Territory

Three Months Later

I stood at the doorway of Gregor and Isobel’s meager stables, watching for Cooper’s small pony to crest the top of the hill. He appeared at the same time he did each morning and, as he rode down the hill toward me, Eoghanan broke the hill a good but reasonable distance behind him. I waved to let him know he could return to McMillan Castle. It was our daily ritual, and I looked forward to Cooper’s arrival at the inn every day.
 

I’d never been someone who cared much for routines. In my old life, I delighted in the freedom of not knowing what each day would bring. Everything was different now. Since our return from Cagair Castle, routine was all that could get me through each day without breaking down in a mixture of guilt and regret. The daily rituals of sweeping and baking semi-edible bread and waiting for Cooper to come and join me—I needed those now. The dependability that each day would be much like the last helped me to stop hoping.
 

Every day for the first month, I hoped. More than that really, I expected Adwen to come for me. I expected him to apologize and say that grief had made him say things he didn’t mean.
 

I didn’t believe he sent me away because I couldn’t have his children. He sent me away for exactly the same reason that Orick said drove so many of Adwen’s actions—fear. He’d lost Orick, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone else. He thought it easier to push me away.
 

The day we left, I allowed his words to hurt me even though they didn’t ring true. I was too grief-stricken, guilty, and tired to fight. I regretted not staying, not shaking him until he saw sense, not splashing him with cold water to wake him up. I overreacted when I should have done as Orick suggested and lost my patience with him—forced him to see his own strength.

Instead, I left. By doing so, I let down all three of us—Adwen, myself, and Orick’s memory.
 

Isobel tried more than once to get me to go back but, no matter how much I regretted leaving, that was one thing I had made very clear to him that day. If he pushed me away, I wasn’t coming back. I would not go back on my word.
 

When Isobel finally realized that I meant that, she hung onto her own hope that Adwen would come for me. She hung onto it still. I allowed that hope to die.
 

It is a funny thing to kill a dream—to make the conscious decision to stop wanting, to stop hoping, to stop wishing for something you once thought you couldn’t live without. It’s like choosing to remove a part of yourself you know you will never get back.
 

It took time for life to return to some sort of normal rhythm for us all. If not for Cooper, if I hadn’t had the opportunity to watch him move through his own heartbreak and grief with such innocent grace, I might have allowed the loss of everything to turn me into someone I really didn’t want to be.
 

Instead, I was simply a little less dreamful, a little less naïve, and a lot stronger than I was before. I now understood what Orick meant about strength. Tragedy had a way of building you into a truer form of yourself after it tears you down to nothing. It was painful, and I still wished every day none of it had happened, but it had and I wouldn’t stop living my life because of it. I would be fine. My life would go on without Adwen or Orick.

“How was the ride this morning, Coop? How are your sisters?”

Cooper smiled as he rode into the stables, climbing off the small horse with ease. “It was good. They’re both good.” He moved in to hug me. “I’m happy to see you, Aunt Jane.”

I ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head while I laughed. “I’m happy to see you too, but I just saw you last night.”

“Well, I know that, but I’m always happy to see you. Hey, can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

He took my hand as I answered him, dragging me through the other side of the stables to sit on the small step at the back of the inn. He pulled out a small, smooth, wooden circle and handed it over to me.
 

“What is it?”

“Turn it over.”

I did as he said and swallowed as I looked down at the image carved in the wood. The picture was small and intricate, but it was undeniably the likeness of Orick. “Oh, Coop. Who made this?”

“Dad got the wood ready. He cut it and smoothed it out and everything. And then Bebop drew him as I described him. Then when the drawing was right, he carved it into the wood.”

 
“It’s beautiful, Cooper. You did an excellent job of telling Bebop about him.”

“Well, Bebop actually met him once, that night he and Adwen came to the castle to eat, and he’s pretty good at remembering faces, but I told him as much as I could. This one is for you to keep. I had him make five.”

“Five?” I ran my thumb over the image, the picture of Orick bringing tears to my eyes. I missed him every day.
 

“One for me, one for you, one for Isobel, one for Gregor, and one for…” he hesitated and I knew the name he meant to say next.
 

“It’s okay, Coop.”

“And one for Adwen, if I ever get to see him again.” A tear formed at the corner of Cooper’s eye, and I pulled him into a hug so he wouldn’t see that his crying had me about to well over completely.
 

“This is very thoughtful of you, Coop.”

He shrugged inside my arms but didn’t try to wiggle free as I held him. “It’s hard in this time, you know? There aren’t any pictures or anything to remember him by. I didn’t…” He drew in a shaky breath and broke down into tears, tearing away any strength I had to keep my own tears from flowing. We sobbed together as he spoke. “I didn’t want to forget him.”

“Oh, you won’t, Coop. But this is really great. I’ll carry it with me always.”

I held him as we cried together, only looking up when I saw a man approaching us from the side. I looked up to see Clyde Allaway, a traveling fisherman who often stopped in the village in hopes of selling dried herring or other catches to locals. Isobel despised him and refused to purchase anything from him, but it never stopped him from trying.

“I dinna mean to intrude on ye. Would it be better if I came back another time?”

“No.” I let go of Cooper and stood, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “You’re fine. We’re just a little weepy today.”

He nodded uncomfortably. “Do ye know if they are in need of fish today?”

We hadn’t had a guest in over a week, and there were stacks of dried herring sitting in the cupboard. Still, I didn’t have the heart to turn him away. “Let me see if Isobel or Gregor are around.”

I turned to find Isobel standing in the doorway. “No, Clyde, we doona need fish from ye. Have we ever? Why would we start today?”

“Isobel!” I turned astonished eyes on her. Even though she had voiced her dislike of him to me several times, she was never actually hateful toward him.

“Doona ye ‘Isobel’ me, Jane. Can ye no see what he’s doing? He only stops in to see ye. He doesna care if we buy his fish or no.”

I looked over at Clyde who, despite the blush in his cheeks, recovered well and rose to Isobel’s attack in a way I did not expect.
 

“Aye, I know that ye willna buy my fish, but what is the harm in stopping to see sweet Jane? She’s a beauty, and I’ve held my tongue long enough. I doona care if she knows it.”

Isobel dropped the coverings she had gathered up in her arms for airing and stepped toward him much like she had Adwen that day in the sitting room.
 

“There is harm in it. She is no yers to look at nor gawk after. Now get gone from here before I get my broom handle and stick it up yer arse.”

Cooper’s tears seemed to vanish as he hunkered down into hysterical giggles.
 

Sensing the truth in Isobel’s warning, Clyde shot me a small smile and nod before turning to leave.
 

I waited until he was out of sight to speak.
 

“Isobel, what the hell has gotten into you?”

She crossed her arms and looked at me like she’d done nothing wrong. “I doona know what ye mean. Do ye wish to spend time with a man like Clyde? I canna see it myself.”

“No. Of course I don’t, but I’m more than capable of deciding and telling him that myself. I don’t need you to do it for me. And what did you mean by I wasn’t his to gawk at? Whose am I? Certainly not yours.”

I could see her grind her teeth together before she spoke. She said nothing as she returned to gather up the bedding she dropped, gesturing for Cooper to come and help her.
 

“Ye are Adwen’s and always will be, I doona care what ye say. Now.” She pointed toward the inside of the inn with one finger. “Gregor is no here at the moment and, as ye can see, I have me hands full. There’s a man standing in the dining room. Go see to him and ask him if he’ll be staying the night.”