She began to gently uproot the weeds and broken stalks. She would have to replant, and she was preparing the soil for new seeds when she heard a distant sound. It was Torin’s voice, calling her name.
“Sidra?”
She rose, searching for him. She was alone in the yard, although the front door to Graeme’s cottage was open, and she could smell the first aromas of breakfast as he cooked.
“Sidra!”
Torin’s voice was louder now, and she walked through the garden, slipping past the gate. She arrived at the crest of the hill and looked down toward her lands.
Torin was walking up the path, Maisie on his hip.
A sound escaped from Sidra. The break of a sob. She covered her mouth with her dirt-streaked hand just as Maisie caught sight of her. The girl flailed and kicked, eager to be free of her father’s hold, and Torin set her down.
Maisie began to run up the winding path in the heather. Sidra rushed to meet her, falling to her knees and opening her arms.
“Oh, my darling,” Sidra whispered as Maisie embraced her neck. She caressed the child’s curls, breathing her in. She wondered if she was dreaming and said, “Let me look at you, my heart.”
She leaned back to study Maisie’s face, rosy from the chilled morning. Her eyes were still wide and brown, full of light and curiosity. She had lost another tooth while she was away, and Sidra didn’t realize she was weeping until Maisie solemnly laid her palm to her cheek.
Sidra smiled, even as her tears fell. She held her daughter close to her chest, hiding her face in Maisie’s wispy hair. She could sense Torin’s presence as he reached them. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, his warmth seeping into her side.
“Don’t cry, Mummy,” Maisie said, patting her shoulder.
Sidra wept even harder.
The girls returned home on a blue sky day.
The southern wind was warm and gentle, and the wildflowers bloomed in the fullness of the rising sun. The heather danced on the breeze with violet abandon. The tide was low on the shores, the lochs glistened, and the rivers flowed. The hills were quiet, and the roads were like threads of gold in a green plaid as Adaira rode with the guard, bringing Catriona home to her parents on the coast, and Annabel home to her parents in the vale.
She sat on her horse and watched with a smile as the families were reunited. There were many tears and kisses and much laughter, and Adaira felt a weight slip from her shoulders. This is how it should be, and she hoped the isle would find balance once more.
The parents thanked the guard for bringing their daughters home safely, but they didn’t even glance at Adaira. It was as though she had already departed from the east, and Adaira tried to swallow the hurt she felt. She reminded herself that, if not for her, the lasses would have never been stolen to begin with. In some deep way, she faulted herself for the pain of the clan, even though she hadn’t known the truth.
She wondered if Alastair and Lorna ever planned to reveal to her who she truly was. Part of her thought not, since they had carried the secret to their graves. Adaira tried to cast away the feelings of betrayal and sadness. Today was a day when she needed to be as composed as one of Jack’s ballads. She needed to follow the notes she had laid down for herself without emotion getting the best of her.
The guards escorted her back to the castle. She had until noontide to restore order, officially pass the lairdship to Torin, and pack. Innes was to meet her by Mirin’s river, and the exchange would then be complete.
Adaira stood in her chamber, inwardly lost. She glanced at the bed, unmade and rumpled from her lovemaking with Jack. The window was still open, the breeze sighing into the room. Though she didn’t know what to take with her, she slowly began to pack a leather bag. A few dresses, a few books. She was halfway done when a knock sounded on her door.
“Come in.”
Torin stepped inside, trailed by Sidra and Maisie.
Adaira dropped her bag as Maisie dashed to her. She had seen Maisie briefly when the girls were returned, but now Adaira had the chance to scoop her up in an embrace, warmed by how fiercely Maisie held to her, as if she didn’t care who Adaira was now. Maisie’s arms wrapped about her neck, healing a fracture in Adaira’s heart.
“Maisie!” Adaira said with a smile. “The bravest lass in all the east!”
Maisie smiled, loosening her hold a bit. But her excitement faded when she said, “Mummy says you have to go away.”
Adaira’s smile froze on her face. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“To the west?”
Adaira glanced at Sidra and Torin, neither of whom offered any guidance on how she should answer. They were all taking this hour by hour, moment by moment. None of them knew what the girls had experienced in the west, even though they appeared to have been treated gently. “Yes, Maisie. So I need you to look after your mum and da for me while I’m gone. Can you do that?”