A Healer for the Highlander
Автор
Terri Brisbin
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Prologue
The Lands of Clan Cameron, Loch Arkaig, Scotland—the year of Our Lord 1358
Anna Mackenzie watched as Malcolm walked to the edge of the falls and began the long and dangerous climb down the slippery rocks. She tried to stop herself, but she ran to the edge when his head disappeared and she kept him in sight until he reached the bottom. He turned and waved to her before moving off into the forest towards the village and keep near the loch.
Sighing as she wrapped her arms around herself, Anna closed her eyes then and allowed the memories of the last hours to surround her once more. They had laughed and run and kissed...and loved. She loved him more than her own life.
For Malcolm, the only son of Euan Cameron, had braved the rumours and stories about the witch of Caig Falls and come to find the truth. And he’d found Anna, not her mother. She sighed again for they’d found love. It mattered not if she was the daughter of the ‘witch’ and he the son of the chieftain. It mattered not if they were young. It simply mattered that they were in love and would be together. They made vows to be together and he’d given her a sign of that promise which she carried now close to her heart.
After several moments, the sound of footsteps behind her shook her from her reverie and she turned to find her mother there in the shadows staring at her. How long had she been there?
‘Anna, I need your help,’ her mother said. Had she seen Malcolm there? From her tone, Anna could not tell. Her mother did not wait for her agreement or refusal, but simply turned and walked back into the forest.
She followed her mother back along the hidden path to the garden she tended in a sheltered place in the thick growth of trees there. Though she could see it plainly, no one else, not the villagers who came searching or Malcolm ever seemed to find it. Until he did.
‘We must finish picking the last of these,’ her mother said, pointing to several rows of herbs and other plants.
‘You have plenty of that already, Mam,’ Anna said. ‘We dried it just a fortnight ago.’
‘We will need more,’ her mother said, walking over and picking up one of the baskets that always waited there. She held it out to Anna and motioned for her to begin.
It did not make sense. There was a timing to harvesting the plants and herbs that Lara Mackenzie depended on for healing and treating ailments and afflictions. No one knew that better or more accurately than her mother and yet, here she was, picking things ahead of their time.
* * *
Anna did her mother’s bidding and, over the next hours, they gathered everything that was at or near readiness. A strange wariness filled Anna as night came and her mother continued to gather and sort and wrap all the plants and herbs they’d collected. When her mother sat at the wide, worn table and just stared into the dark corner of the cottage, Anna went to her and finally asked the question that had haunted her all day.
‘Are we leaving here, Mam?’
‘Aye, on the morrow.’
The few and simple words tore Anna’s heart apart. Her hands shook as she thought on the possibilities facing her now. Had her mother discovered her secret? Her secrets? Anna had been so careful not to bring Malcolm close to the cottage or the hidden garden. What did her mother know?
‘Why? Why would you leave this all behind? Where will we go?’ Anna stood and walked to the window. Resting her hands on the shutter, she stared past the rough wood and out at the forest surrounding their dwelling, waiting on her mother’s explanation.
‘Ye’ve been caught, Anna. Are ye three months gone now?’
Anna’s hands slid down over her belly in a movement she could not stop. She did not want to turn to face her mother and see the disappointment and disapproval in her gaze. But when she did she saw sadness, a touch of pity, but mostly the glimmer of love there.
‘Aye, Mam. Or close to it.’
‘When were ye going to tell me, lass?’
Anna swallowed against the tightness in her throat. She’d never kept secrets from her mother...until Malcolm. Keeping the knowledge of him and their love felt right. Or it had before this moment. ‘I would have told ye, Mam. He... Mal said he would tell his father and then we could...’
‘Malcolm Cameron, the chieftain’s son?’ Anna nodded. ‘Ye thought to marry him? The chieftain’s son would marry the penniless bastard daughter of the witch of Caig Falls? Ye ken better than that, Anna.’
Her mother’s words forced her to see the harsh and stark situation as it was—not as she’d hoped or pretended it could be. It was much more romantic to believe his promise that they would be together and the vows they’d made to each other. To believe that the child they’d made would be welcomed by his kin. To believe that she would be, too. Anna let out a sigh, releasing all the pretences she’d built around the sad truth of the matter.
Her mother walked to her and gathered her close. ‘All will be well, lass.’ They stood in silence for a few minutes until her mother released her, clutching her by the shoulders and searching her face. ‘My kin will take us in until we sort this out.’
Anna nodded, fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I want to tell him before we leave.’
‘Nay. ’Tis too dangerous. If he kens, he will do something foolish and we will face more trouble than we could manage. I have seen this before, Anna. If a woman is called a witch, which is what Euan Cameron will do to me before his clan if it suits his purposes, she dies. Our only choice is to leave. Leave now. Leave quietly.’
Anna would have argued and protested, but the stony expression in her mother’s eyes told her she would fail to soften or sway her decision. The happiness she’d felt, the sense of love and anticipation, fled and a deep despair filled her. Her child would never know their father or their kin. Anna shivered as a wave of dread passed through her. Somehow, in that terrible, sad moment, she kenned she would never see Malcolm again. Never hold him. Never love him.
* * *
The next days and weeks passed in a blur as Anna and her mother packed and fled the glen and their home above Caig Falls for the north. Her mother’s kin, the Mackenzies, did take them in and her child, a boy, was born among them six months later. When word reached them of Malcolm’s death at the hands of Brodie Mackintosh three years later, Anna remembered the portent of it she’d felt that day.
And she mourned his death and the end of all the possibilities they’d shared. Mayhap one day she would return to Cameron lands and give her son, Malcolm’s son, the opportunity to be part of his father’s kith and kin.
Mayhap one day...
