The Eagle by Hildie McQueen

Chapter Twenty-One

The party of five rode to the village the following day. While the men rode horses, Cait, Bree, and Cora rode in a carriage. Although Cait had recently learned to ride, Bree was not at ease doing so.

“Oh goodness, how quaint,” Cait said as the village came into view. “This isn’t at all what I expected. Although the homes and shops are clustered together—like most villages—here all of them face the sea.”

There was one road along the shoreline, lined with small buildings, and a second one on higher ground with more cottages.

“I find it pretty,” Bree said with a smile. “I suppose that’s good as it is to become my home.” Peering out the window, she pointed. “There it is.”

A large stone house with a wall around it and ornate gates stood atop a small hill overlooking the village. There were a few sheep grazing inside the wall, and a pair of horses in the back area. Cait supposed one was Artair’s.

“It is protected,” Cait said, not sure she could find anything positive to say about the way it did not seem to fit with its surroundings.

The brick structure looked strong, so at least there was that. She looked to Bree who also studied the house. “Ye will not have to worry when a storm comes. Ye can offer harbor to the villagers.”

Bree frowned. “Honestly, I am not sure how I feel about living there. The people may not accept me.”

“I am sure once they get to know ye, they will soften swiftly. Ye should host a gathering for women. Good food melts many a reserve.”

Bree brightened. “That is a fabulous idea.”

“I will come and help ye,” Cora added.

Once arriving at the village, the women went to the square. Cait introduced herself and Bree followed suit. They found a pair of women who sold baskets and other trinkets. The women were quite talkative. Cait was sure not long after she and Bree walked away, they would inform the entire village of their conversation.

“Miss Bree Ross and her husband Mister Dougal Ross will be moving into the large house on the hill,” Cait told the women, who leaned forward in anticipation of being the first to hear the news.

“If ye are aware of someone wishing to work there, inform me,” Bree added. “I will be hiring a pair of hands to assist with cooking and cleaning. My husband will also be seeking help with the surrounding lands. We will offer fair pay.”

The women grinned with glee and shoved their purchases into their arms in an obvious attempt to get rid of them so they could spread the news.

By the time they reached the last shop, several women had already approached Bree asking questions. And across the square where Stuart and Dougal spoke to Artair, men had gathered as well.

Cait stopped listening to the women gathered, to study Stuart. He stood listening to the men, his shoulders back. The men gathered often bowed their heads when addressing him as he had an air of authority. The sea air blew his hair away from his handsome face and she noted how at ease he seemed.

It was as if he was meant to be here, with people that were eager for fair leadership.

“My husband will enjoy duties of constable. He has always admired Stuart’s even nature and his ability to give good counsel,” Bree told her.

“There is so much about him I have yet to learn,” Cait replied.

“It can be quite a journey,” Bree said looking across toward Dougal.

When they made it to the house, the anticipation of what would be inside was tangible.

The house was large and overly decorated. Both Bree and Cora yelped several times when stepping on a rug that still had the animal’s head attached.

“Those must be removed at once,” Bree said with a shudder. “The bear is staring right at me.”

Cait laughed when Bree hurried around the dead animal.

Once they completed the tour, it was decided that Dougal and Bree would move into it within the week.

Artair would move into the small house at Eilean Daes that they currently lived in.

On the ride back to their home, Bree talked excitedly about her upcoming move, making mental lists of what she needed to change in the house. Cait felt a bit tired, so she allowed her eyes to close while Cora spoke with Bree.

When they arrived back at the house, Cait felt refreshed. She went in search of her mother to inform her that the next day, they would help Bree pack.

Her mother was in her bedchamber, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed. She glared up at her when she walked in.

Alarmed, Cait hurried closer. “Is something wrong? Are ye ill?”

“No,” her mother said. “I feel perfectly fine, do not worry over me.” She motioned to a rather oversized bouquet of wildflowers, artfully set in a pitcher with springs of berries sticking out from several sides.

“Is there something crawling on the flowers?”

“No. Grace put it together, I am sure she ensured nothing harmful is in them.”

“Why does a beautiful bouquet of flowers annoy ye Mother?” Cait gave her a worried look. “Should I worry about yer mind?”

“For goodness’ sake.” Her mother huffed indignantly. “That man, Lyall, he collected them and handed them to me in front of Maisie and Grace. I was mortified at his frivolous display.”

When Cait giggled, her mother glared. “It is not in the least bit funny Cait. He should be banned from entering the house.”

“Mother, he is a Ross and therefore cannot be banned. If ye wish, I will speak to him and let him know ye do not wish his attentions.”

Her mother considered it for a moment. “That is a good idea.”

Cait enjoyed lastmeal though admittedly, she was anxious to spend time alone with Stuart. She ordered a bath so that once the meal was over, she could wash up before bed.

“I will have one as well,” Stuart told her. “I smell of horse and fish. Did ye see the fishermen ask me to come and see their catch? They had quite a few fish.”

“I am well aware of it, husband, as ye insisted we bring those they gave ye in the carriage,” Cate grumbled.

“Did ye enjoy traveling to the village today?” Stuart asked as they climbed into the bed after their baths.

“I did, and look forward to going often,” Cait replied with a smile. She moved closer to Stuart. “There was something about ye that was different when ye were there.”

“Different? How?”

“Ye looked as if it was the place ye belong. That yer destiny is to be here and along with yer cousins attend to the needs of these poor people who have been neglected and mistreated for far too long.”

“They were eager to speak to us,” Stuart said. “I found that despite what happened with the constable, they are willing to trust me.”

Cait kissed him. “I am very proud of ye.”

“I realize it was a long day, but I am hoping that ye are not too tired.” Stuart nuzzled her neck. “Seeing ye bathe brought me to arousal and I nearly pulled ye from the water to have ye.”

Instead of a reply, Cait shifted and pressed her body against his. “I am not tired at all.”

Two days later,loud wind and rain pelted the house with force. The men rushed out to ensure the horses and smaller livestock were sheltered in the stables. Although sheep were smart enough to huddle under a shelter of some sort, men went in search of any who might’ve become lost.

A rider arrived, shivering, and soaked through. He was rushed into the kitchen so that he could warm up by the large hearth and given hot herbs to drink to dispel the chill.

“The storm has hit the village. Houses are washed away along with some of the people. Help is needed.”

“All of the men are gone to collect the sheep,” Bree explained.

“I believe Torac stayed behind,” Cait hurried through the house, hoping to find her brother.

When she went to the small bedchamber next to her mother’s she knocked and Torac opened the door. He’d been out in the rain and had just changed into dry clothes. Cait hated to give him news, which would take him back out into the storm.

“The village is being washed away. They require rescue,” she said, already tears streaming down her face. “Those poor, poor people.”

Torac turned away and grabbed a cloak. “We will save those who have survived. Do not worry.”

Thankfully the others returned not much later with the sheep they’d found. The animals protested at being ushered into shelter but seemed to settle quickly upon noticing the feed.

Soaked to the skin, Stuart waved at her. “Do not come out,” he shouted when she went to grab her cloak.

“I love ye,” Cait said wondering if he heard her through the hard rain.

The group of men mounted to head to the village, leaving the women behind to care for the animals and the house.

The wind andrain were relentless. Stuart thought he’d go blind from trying to see the way. It took much longer than it should have for him and the others to arrive at the village. At least they thought it was the village, it was hard to tell because huge waves slammed far past the shoreline.

They stopped atop the hill, taking shelter under a stall next to one of the houses that had been spared.

Some cottages that were closer to the edge of the hill had slid down the saturated land taking everything those who lived in them owned. And in some cases, the owners themselves.

After a few moments of rest, they rode on. As they made their way down the coastline, they gathered people seeking refuge and took them to the main house. There Artair was already housing dozens of women and children, and any men too old or too ill to be out searching for their neighbors. The location of the home was far enough from the village below to keep it from any real damage. The tall walls and sturdy house offered protection to those that had managed to get there.

Carrying two young lads and a dog they refused to leave behind on his horse, Stuart arrived at the house.

Artair who was drenched and muddy hurried the children inside. “Where are yer parents?” he yelled over the loud wind. The boys shook their heads, and the one clinging to the shivering pup began to cry.

The older one looked toward the door. “Father was out there fishing. Mum went to see about him, and we saw a wave take her.”

A woman came and took the lads, ushering them to the hearth. “We will find ye a blanket to keep warm,” she said soothingly.

Searching for the lost and attempting to keep from being washed away themselves, took all their strength as they continued to trudge out to help save villagers.

By the time darkness fell, Stuart was too exhausted to keep going. And it was becoming much too dangerous to continue the search. Even though the sea had calmed some, the rain and wind continued unabated.

He’d just sat down to rest and drink some hot tea when someone began pounding on the front door.

Stuart rose and partially opened the door, trying to keep the cold wind and rain from blowing inside. On the other side of the door stood a man frantically motioning for Stuart to come outside.

“My wife,” the man yelled to be heard over the storm. “I need help. She is trapped and will drown if we don’t save her.”

Stuart looked around at all the exhausted men and checking his own reserve he turned back to the man and tried to explain. “We are all too exhausted, I do not know what help we can be to ye.” He paused and looked around the room again. “We simply haven’t the strength. And I cannot risk another life by sending them back out. It’s just too dangerous.

The man’s face fell, and there was desperation in his gaze when he looked at Stuart. “Help me, sir. I beg of ye. I cannot let her die. She is my world.”

When Stuart hesitated, the man turned and walked back into the storm.

Stuart closed his eyes. If it were Cait, he would not rest until he saved her.

“Wait,” he called out to the man.

Stuart went inside, grabbed a rope and his still soaked tartan, and went back out.