Boo
Isabel had lived her whole life by the sea. She loved to ride out to the cliffs and watch the ever-changing moods of the Little Minch. But she’d never learned to swim and wasn’t comfortable being on a boat, even though Ywst was already visible from Roghadal before they cast off, and the waters were calm.
“Ye’ll be in good hands,” Fanny assured her.
Isabel smiled and hugged her cousin. “How is it ye always ken what I’m thinking?”
Fanny eased her away. “’Tis simple to discern what’s in the mind of an honest and straightforward lass like ye.”
Isabel glanced over at her husband who was saying goodbye to Hammond. “I thank ye for all that ye’ve done for me, and Darroch.”
Fanny frowned. “Wheest. ’Twas as much for yer mam, God rest her soul.” She nodded in Darroch’s direction. “She’d be happy ye married such a braw laddie.”
Isabel wagged a finger. “Ye liked him from the moment ye first saw him.”
Fanny’s wizened face reddened as she elbowed Isabel in the ribs. “Just because a woman’s getting on in years, doesna mean she canna look.”
Isabel laughed aloud, drawing Darroch’s attention. “Ready to go?” he shouted, wading towards them through the shallows.
Suddenly she was in Fanny’s embrace, barely able to breathe. The tears came. “I’ll ne’er forget ye,” she croaked.
Her cousin pushed her into Darroch’s arms. “Aye, weel,” she replied hoarsely, “ye’ll always find a welcome here on Harris.”
“Me too?” Darroch asked mischievously.
Fanny punched the bicep of his good arm. “Aye. I suppose now ye’re wed to Isabel…”
He feigned injury, then lifted her into a hug so her feet left the ground. “Ye’re a marvel, Fanny Beaton, and I thank ye. I’ll miss yer oatmeal.”
*
Darroch sensed Isabel’s uneasiness as the galley pulled away from shore. Content to hand over command to Grig, he stood behind her and folded his arms across her breasts. He nestled his chin atop the endearing hat.
Blue sat by Isabel’s side, sniffing the wind and yawning occasionally, as if he sailed the seas every day of the week.
“’Tis a short voyage,” Darroch assured his wife.
She crossed her arms over his and leaned back against him. “I ken. I’m nay a good sailor.”
“Good thing ye have me then,” he replied, nuzzling her neck.
He inhaled the intriguing perfume that always clung to her, even in the salty air, content to be back on the deck of his galley, the woman he loved in his arms, free to roam again as he pleased.
Many men deemed marriage a detriment to their freedom. He’d been of that mind while pacing the chapel in Sleat, waiting for the bride who never arrived. Isabel had not only freed him from the clutches of an enemy clan. Her love had banished the oppressive loneliness and resentment that had weighed him down for many a year. He would be her willing slave for the remainder of his life. Responsibility for her wellbeing had given him a new reason to live. The desire to avenge the treachery perpetrated against them had lit a fire in his gut.
But there remained the quandary of his daughter, and the impasse with his father, not to mention finding the best way to reconcile their feuding clans.
As the galley scythed its way through the waves, he tried to form an explanation for Kyla’s refusal to speak, and his father’s hatred of his own granddaughter.
He feared if he said the wrong thing, Isabel might think the bairn cursed and Stewart MacKeegan mad. The words died in his throat at the prospect of her rejecting the lass. He’d have no choice but to protect his daughter.
His heart told him Isabel would love Kyla, but his mind kept his mouth sealed. By the time they pulled into the dock at Loch nam Madadh, he’d said nothing, coward that he was.
When Grig had the boat secured, Darroch climbed out and turned to lift Isabel. “Welcome to Ywst,” he said.
Before she could reply, Blue suddenly began barking and leapt onto the dock.
Isabel grimaced. “Come back, daft dog,” she shouted to the hound. Then she gripped his shoulders. “There’s a bairn, Darroch.”
He swiveled, almost dropping his bride, alarmed at the sight of Blue galloping full tilt towards his daughter.
Kyla stopped abruptly when she saw the hound.
Darroch’s feet seemed fixed to the wood of the dock. Outpacing the dog would be impossible. “He’s going to attack her,” he rasped.
“Nay. Blue, Blue,” Isabel shouted frantically, wriggling out of his arms.
The dog skidded to a halt in front of Kyla, circled her twice, then began licking her face.
Isabel sagged into him. “He’s just being friendly,” she murmured nervously.
Darroch gulped air in an effort to slow the too-rapid beating of his heart.
Kyla laughed, wiped a sleeve across her face, and exclaimed, “Boo!”
Stunned, Darroch quickly gathered her up when she ran to him, arms outstretched, Blue on her heels. “Kyla,” he whispered as she showered kisses all over his face. “I was delayed. I’m sorry.”
When she calmed, he turned her to face Isabel. “Ye recall I promised to bring ye a mother, weel, this is Isabel, my new wife. Aye, the one I was to wed afore. There was a mix-up. I’ll explain it to ye.”
He avoided looking at his bride, fearing she must have noticed he’d rambled on, conducting a one-sided conversation.
“Hello, Kyla. I’m very happy to meet ye,” Isabel tried.
His daughter buried her face in his neck.
He looked down at the hound patiently watching the proceedings. “Blue is Isabel’s dog.”
Kyla looked at Blue, then stretched out her arms to cup Isabel’s face. She pecked a kiss on each cheek before wriggling to be put down.
Hooking her little hand into the dog’s collar, she smiled and said, “Come, Boo.”
Bairn and hound wandered off towards Grig’s cottage.
“I get the feeling Kyla just adopted him,” Isabel said with a smile.
Choked with emotion, Darroch was now the one at a loss for words. It took all his strength not to fall to his knees in humble thanksgiving.
*
Isabel sensed something momentous had happened. Darroch’s joy at being reunited with his daughter caused tears to well. But there was more to it. The bairn hadn’t spoken at all, except to Blue. Her father had been the recipient of kisses and hugs, but no words of love, though it was plain she adored him.
Yet the bright-eyed Kyla clearly wasn’t a dullard. Blue had immediately recognized the goodness in her.
Darroch stood watching his child as if in a trance. She took his hand and meshed her fingers with his. “She’s beautiful. I can see why ye’re so proud of her.”
“Aye,” he said hoarsely. “I should have told ye she doesna speak.”
“Except to Blue.”
He chuckled. “’Tis a miracle.”
“Blue has often been my only confidant,” she replied, as they walked away from the shore. “Sometimes ’tis easier to place yer trust in animals.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m more certain now that she’ll eventually speak to me…and to ye, o’course.”
She heard the hesitation in his voice. “But?”
He inhaled deeply and looked to the sky. “Then there’s her grandfather, but that’s a whole other tale for a different time.”
Isabel resigned herself to be patient. There was obviously much to learn about her new family. Everyone in the Isles knew of Stewart MacKeegan’s legendary temper and she looked forward even less to meeting him now.
That would have to wait until she and Darroch had solved her own family’s problems.