Page 10 of Highland Spirit

“Me, too,” said Alana, rubbing her sister’s shoulder.

“Do ye ever miss Ethan?” asked Kirstine.

“More than ye ken,” she replied. “Because of my decision, I have given up the only man I have ever loved. I had given up all hope of ever bein’ happy. But after seein’ Ethan today, and findin’ out he is still alive, it makes me start to wonder about a lot of things.”

“What do ye mean?”

“I mean, I wonder if Ethan and I could have been happy together.”

“I’m sure ye would have been.”

“Kirstine,” said Alana, grabbing her sister’s arm. “Do ye think . . . do ye think Ethan is married and perhaps has a bunch of children by now?”

Kirstine made a face and shrugged. “Alana, it has been five years. I dinna think the man would have waited that long and no’ have gotten married. After all, he is a Highland warrior. He is one of the mighty MacKeefes. I’m sorry to say it, but he has probably found someone else by now.”

“I ken ye are right,” said Alana, looking across the room at her daughter, sleeping soundly in the large bed. The little girl hugged her mysterious doll. “I – I just wish I could have told Ethan about Isobel. But now . . . now I’ll never be able to tell him. Even if I happen to see him again, it is too late. If he is married and has bairns, I will take my secret to my grave rather than disrupt his life again. Nay, what Ethan and I had is over. And even if I see him again someday, I can never tell him that he has a daughter.”

Chapter 3

“Ethan ye look like death warmed over.” Ethan’s friends, Logan and Caleb, came to join Hawke and Ethan at the fire of the MacKeefe camp the next morning. Each of the men was the son of one of the well-known MacKeefes. While Hawke was the son of the clan’s laird, Storm MacKeefe, the rest of the three friends were sons of the Madmen MacKeefe. Logan was the son of Aidan. Caleb’s father was Ian, and Ethan was the son of Onyx.

Since it was nearly winter, most of the MacKeefes were in residence at Hermitage Castle on the border right now. The MacKeefes claimed the castle in a battle against the English and had controlled it for years now. But some of the MacKeefes chose to stay in the Highlands, even though the upcoming winter would most likely be a hard one.

The hills of the MacKeefe lands were spotted with long-haired cattle and black-faced sheep that were able to stay warm in the winter cold. They were used for milk and to feed the clan. Ethan and his friends normally stayed here most of the year to tend to them so they’d have food for their clan through the winter.

“Nay, no’ death,” said Hawke, lifting a tankard of Mountain Magic to his mouth. Mountain Magic was the strongest whisky in all of Scotland, brewed by Hawke’s great-grandfather, Old Callum MacKeefe, who was older than the hills. He swore the Mountain Magic was what kept him alive so long. “Ethan claims to have seen another ghost last night.” Hawke’s red tail hawk, Apollo, screeched from up in the sky. He looked up at it, using his hand to block the sun from his eyes. “Or at least, that’s what he says.”

“A ghost? Did I hear ye say somethin’ about a ghost?” A young woman named Bridget stood nearby talking with her father, Brigham. She craned her neck and looked over toward the fire. Her father was the chronicler of the Scottish king.

“Bid the devil,” mumbled Ethan to his friends, running a hand over the head of his wolfhound that lay at his feet. “I dinna want those two anywhere near me.”

“Why no’?” asked Caleb. “Bridget and her faither are very nice.” Caleb looked up and smiled as the girl and her father started toward them. His eyes lit up and he looked like a lovesick boy. Caleb was the smallest of Ethan’s friends, but also the fastest. His curly dark hair hung down to his shoulders, reminding Ethan of one of the wooly Highland sheep.

“They watch everythin’ we do and listen to everythin’ we say,” complained Logan in a low voice, not being fond of the visitors either. “I dinna ken why they followed us here to the Highlands. I wish they would have stayed back at Hermitage Castle instead.” Logan looked a lot like his father, Aidan, being the only blond out of their group of friends. His pet of choice was a wolf named Jack that usually stayed away from everyone, hiding in the shadows. His wolf accompanied him wherever he went and was an asset when it came to hunting during their travels.

“Dinna ye want to be mentioned in the king’s book – the Highland Chronicles?” asked Caleb. “After all, Hawke is mentioned in the book now, as well as all of our faithers.”

“Sure I do,” complained Ethan, spearing a piece of meat on a stick and holding it over the open fire to cook. “Who wouldna want to be? It’s one of the highest honors.”

He pulled his cloak closer around him. The breeze was becoming colder each day, and with it would come the winds of change. “I just dinna want to be mentioned in the book as the man who fears ghosts, that’s all,” he continued.

“Well, it’s better than no’ bein’ mentioned at all.” Logan sat down on a rock next to Ethan. He stabbed a piece of meat with a sharp stick and held it over the fire to cook. Caleb sat down next to him. “I dinna think I’ll ever get my name in that book.”

“Ye two should have seen Ethan last night,” said Hawke with a chuckle. “I never saw him look so pale as when he thought I was about to leave him on the isle . . . with the ghost.”

“Did somethin’ happen last night?” asked Bridget, overhearing the end of their conversation as she approached the group of men. “Please, tell us all about it.” She looked around for a place to sit. Caleb immediately jumped up and surrendered his seat to the girl. He stood right behind her, smiling all the while.

“Aye, do tell us,” said Brigham, holding on to the Highland Chronicle book that he used to record the deeds of the MacKeefes that were worth mentioning to the king.

“Nothin’ happened,” mumbled Ethan, pulling the meat out of the fire and inspecting it. “I lost my hound and then I found it. That’s all.” He blew on the meat and, with two fingers, pulled it off the stick. It was hot so he dropped it atop his lap on his plaid to cool. Trapper whined, eyeing the food. “It’s no’ yers, boy,” he told the dog. “I’ll get ye somethin’ to eat when I’m finished. But right now, I’m famished.”

“We went to the isle with Oliver, looking for his sister’s doll,” explained Hawke, biting into an apple. “And then Ethan disappeared and came back covered in horse dung.”

Ethan’s friends all laughed.

“And I was blamin’ the stench on his dog,” said Logan, reaching out to pet the wolfhound on the head. “I’m sorry, Trapper.”

“Och, I am no longer wearin’ the soiled plaid, and I washed in the loch last night and froze my arse doin’ it,” said Ethan in his defense. “So if I hear another word about it, the one who says somethin’ will be the next to go for a little swim – courtesy of me.”