Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The morning dawned on the third day at the wise-woman's cottage, and Jocelyn knew even before her eyes flickered open that it would be their last day of peace for some time. Agatha had provided them some normalcy for what felt like the first time in their lives, and Jocelyn would be forever thankful for it, but she knew that it would be over soon.

It was time to press on. To find Blair. To find what happened next. To find the lives that waited for them after all of this tragedy was finally over.

She opened her eyes and glanced over at her still-sleeping sisters. Aoife lay on her back, one hand draped over her blossoming chest and the other spread out above her head. She wore a broad smile on her sleeping face, and Jocelyn wondered what she had been dreaming of. Had the prince of Aoife's heart come out of the aether in the world of dreams to sweep the young woman off her feet? Jocelyn hoped it was a pleasant dream.

Nearby, Deirdre was curled up, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest. She had a small frown on her face, a wrinkle between her brows. Jocelyn stretched and moved closer to her sister's side, and gently ran a hand through her hair, murmuring soothing sounds that weren't quite words. Slowly, the girl's face relaxed, until her slumber seemed smooth again.

Jocelyn waited a little longer before she rose and headed outside, welcoming the Highland wind on her face as it woke her from the remnants of her sleep. She stood there with her eyes closed for some time, just listening. The rustle of the grass. The whisper of the air in the trees. The songs of the earliest birds as they rose for their mornings, and the soft footpads of animals nearby.

Yes. This was freedom. And she would never give it up again, not for anything.

Some time later, a voice interrupted her reverie.

"If ye're done daydreamin', me girl, I need some water and herbs from the river," Agatha said, and Jocelyn opened her eyes to see the wise-woman watching her with an expression of pure understanding on her elderly face. "I've already told the lad tae go, but ye ken how men are. He cannae be trusted alone. Will ye go with him?"

Jocelyn noticed Lachlan skulking slightly behind Agatha. He had an unfathomable expression on his face, but he held a basket and a piece of paper in his hand that clearly had detailed drawings of the required herbs upon it. A page from an apothecary's book, perhaps, or something similar. It made sense that Agatha would have such things. Lachlan would not meet her eyes, and Jocelyn wondered what, exactly, was wrong with him. Had they not spent a pleasant time together just a day ago? Why would he be avoiding her now?

It couldn't possibly be anything to do with the conversation she and her sisters had experienced with the wise-woman last night, could it? And if so, why would he be so upset with it all? Was it something to do with the family that Agatha had mentioned?

The wise-woman cleared her throat. Jocelyn blinked and saw that Agatha was looking at her expectantly. She realized that she still hadn't given an answer.

"Aye, of course I'll go," she said after a moment's pause. No point in objecting, especially as their host had been so gracious to them. To refuse such a request would be the height of rudeness, not to mention against the rules of guest right. Maybe the old ways were slowly fading, but here in the Highlands they still held them dear, and Jocelyn was no exception. "When do we leave?"

"Nay time like the present," Agatha said, ushering her to join Lachlan.

And so, that was how, a short time later, Lachlan and Jocelyn walked together along the barely-there road of the forest path. The trees towered over them, and Jocelyn couldn't help but marvel at their height. How long had these noble firs and silver birches grown here in this land that was her home? She'd heard somewhere that a noble fir tree could live for four hundred years if left alone to grow and thrive. Likely these trees weren't as old as this, but no doubt some of these trees had been planted a hundred years ago or more.

They'd been alive longer than any of Jocelyn's problems. Planted longer ago even than her father and uncle had been born, or her grandparents. Before the prophecies and confusion, before the bloodshed and death. Did these trees care for human dramatics? What did the forest know of betrayal?

Nothing. The forest, the whole of the Highlands, were alive. They lived in full, every flap of a bird's wing the beat of a living heart, every rustle of leaves the breath of Scotland itself. Aye , Jocelyn thought to herself. Life was more than struggle. Life was all around them, not out of their reach, just waiting to be taken. And they would take it, just as soon as they could. She swore it to herself, and silently to her sisters as well.

They walked for a long time, but Lachlan did not speak. Jocelyn made a few attempts at conversation, but each time Lachlan replied politely but neutrally with answers of one or two words. The longer they continued, the longer the silence continued, the more frustrated Jocelyn found herself getting until she could stand it no longer.

"Will ye nae talk tae me at all?" she asked him, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of his voice.

Lachlan looked at her, and to her amazement there was surprise on his face at her words. "What are ye talkin' about? I am talkin' tae ye."

Jocelyn stared at him. She considered arguing, then shook her head. He was obviously off in a world of his own, lost in some deep thoughts she could not fathom. But she also could not continue in this oppressive silence, not when there was still a fair walk to the river and then they had to make it all the way back, too.

"What do ye think about all this prophecy business?" she asked instead after a long moment. "Do ye think we should be placin' any of our faith in it?"

Lachlan actually chuckled at that. "Prophecies and magic! Maybe a few hundred years ago when people still thought that faeries were flyin' about stealin' bairns tae leave changelin's and cleanin' kitchens in exchange for milk."

"So that's a nay?"

"Of course it is," Lachlan replied dismissively. "There's enough mystery in this world without bringin' magic in as well." He laughed. "We all make our own fates, Jocelyn."

Something about the way he said her name made a shiver run down her back. She put her hands on her hips and said, "How can ye be so sure of that?"

A strange look flashed in his eyes. "Well, look at me. Destiny would have had me be one way, but I could nae have cared less. I made me own fate. Destiny be damned."

Jocelyn frowned slightly. She headed over, taking the basket from his arms, and they continued to walk on in silence for a few moments. Then she said, "Yer own fate, eh? Is this somethin' tae do with the family that Agatha mentioned?"

Unexpectedly, Lachlan flinched back. His jaw clenched and he glared at her, so intensely that she felt she might burst aflame.

"I already answered that question. Enough," he replied harshly.

The silence was oppressive now, heavy with anger and something else that Jocelyn could not quite quantify. Though Lachlan did his best to avoid her gaze as they walked, she caught his eyes once, and she saw something she'd never expected.

It was a familiar look, one she'd seen in Blair's eyes many times and occasionally her own in the looking glass. A deep, endless sadness shone in Lachlan's eyes, an unquenchable sorrow that must have filled his very soul.

What had happened to his family? What sadness had she inadvertently caused him?

Soon, the bubbling of water guided them to a small burn, and a little upstream the bubbles turned into the roaring rush of a river that wound its way through the clearing ahead. Birds gathered at its edge, perhaps hoping for a foolish fish that might swim too close to the surface, or otherwise simply to drink their fill, but the avian creatures took wing the moment that Lachlan and Jocelyn stepped into sight.

"It's beautiful," Jocelyn mumbled.

Lachlan avoided looking at her. "Ye ken which herbs we're after. Get gathering. I'll work on collectin' the water."

Time passed, perhaps a half hour or more, in complete silence while each of them worked on their respective tasks. It stretched out longer in Jocelyn's mind, her discomfort building as the quiet stretched. But although usually that discomfort would have stretched into genuine annoyance at the rudeness of his choice to ignore her, in these surroundings it was hard to take it all so seriously. She heard a small splash as a little bird dipped briefly to cool off or drink in the water then took off again, and the sound made her heart flutter too.

"This should be more than enough," Lachlan said after a while. "Let's go."

He was carrying two heavy pails of water hanging from a yoke on his shoulders as though it cost him no effort at all, and Jocelyn was once again taken aback by his strength. Her own bucket was filled with herbs and leaves, mushrooms and wild berries, to the point they were almost spilling out. All of the wonders that nature had to offer right there for the taking. The nobility may rule Scotland with their politics, but the land was their mother, and Alba always provided for her children.

Jocelyn looked around her and hesitated, then shook her head. "Can we wait a wee bit longer?" she asked. "Let's just…sit. And enjoy the silence."

Lachlan stared at her. "What are ye talkin' about? Come, they're waitin' for us back at the wise-woman's house. We can't waste all day just loungin' here."

But Jocelyn placed her bucket down and moved to the side of the water, sitting delicately on the grass. "Ye may go back if ye wish," she told him, "But I need tae take some time here. It's peaceful, and I'm free, and nobody is chasing me, just for right now. Why nae put down yer burden for a while and join me? It willnae do any harm."

She didn't look back at him, instead watching the water, unsure of what he would do. But a moment later, following an exasperated sigh, she heard the slosh of the water pails being lowered to the ground and a few moments later Lachlan sat down by her side.

A smile danced on Jocelyn's lips. "Listen," she encouraged him.

"Tae what?"

"Tae the silence."

For some time, they did just that. Jocelyn closed her eyes and heard the song of the country around her in the air and water and sky, every tiny sound in a strange harmony that the best bard would struggle to achieve. Effortless. She could hear Lachlan's breathing, too, strong and steady, and she wondered if he was enjoying this moment as much as she was.

At the baseline of all of it was the water, the steady flow of the river that was the heartbeat of the song, and Jocelyn's heart sang along with it.

After a little time, she opened her eyes and was seized with a sudden irresistible impulse, the kind that would have made her younger sisters proud. She glanced once at Lachlan, who still had his eyes closed, then kicked off her shoes and got to her feet. The feeling of the grass under her toes was indescribable, but the tired soles sought even stronger succor.

Jocelyn gathered her skirts and tied them in a knot just above her knee, then, with a satisfied sound, waded ankle deep into the stream.

Lachlan's eyes snapped open at the splash of her entry and his dark eyebrows raised high on his forehead. "Are ye mad, woman?"

"Mad! Aye, maybe," she admitted, then laughed. Oh, how free she felt! The cool water gently buffed against her skin, and every second felt like it was washing away some of the pain and heartache she'd been forced to endure—not only recently, but for her whole life since her father was lost to her and her uncle trapped her. "But, oh, Lachlan, if this is madness then I'm glad I get tae experience it."

She expected him to scoff, but instead his lips quirked a little, a tiny smile appearing on his clean-shaven face. He hid it quickly, but she was sure she'd seen it.

"Mad," he repeated. But then, to her utmost surprise, he kicked off his own shoes, moved his own clothing to safety, and joined her.

Jocelyn laughed in surprised delight. "I didnae ken ye had fun sometimes. I thought that was against yer moral code or something," she teased him. She kicked a little water in his direction, splashing him where his leg was bare.

Lachlan chuckled, unoffended, and not bothering to hide the smile this time. "And when would ye have experienced me havin' fun?"

That was a fair point, and not one Jocelyn cared to dwell upon. Instead, they waded together in quiet for a few moments before she spoke again.

"I've always loved the water," she told him. "Running water especially. Burns and streams, big rivers…they make me feel at home."

They moved back to land, but sat on the edge, both keeping their feet submerged in the cool water. When they'd settled down on the grass again, Lachlan asked, "Aye?"

"And waterfalls," Jocelyn told him dreamily. A memory floated through her mind; the thundering of water against water, the ghostly mist that arose from the surface; the sound of girls laughing and splashing and shrieking; a man's voice as he cared for his girls and loved them in a time before madness took it all away. "Back…back when we were bairns, me father used tae take us tae this one waterfall when it was warm in the summer. Shellycoat's Leap, it was called. A small place, barely noticeable, but…"

"I ken it," Lachlan told her, and Jocelyn was once again surprised. He had a soft note to his voice and his expression was far away for a moment, but when he looked back at her it was with warmth. "Did ye ever get tricked by the shellycoat? I was always warned that I was fool enough tae do so."

Jocelyn laughed a little at that. She remembered her father teasing them about the faerie creature who was said to inhabit the river, wearing its coat of shells that jingled like bells, ready to mislead or trick silly girls who didn't listen to their fathers then laugh at them for their foolishness.

"Mercifully, nay!" she replied, giggling. "And ye? Did it ever trick ye?"

"I was sure I heard the shell bells once," he admitted to her. "Lord, I paid fer that little thought in embarrassment! When I went, all smug about me discovery and eager tae search more, tae tell me?—"

He cut off, and Jocelyn quickly understood. This must be to do with the family he'd refused to mention before, the family he claimed never existed. Or maybe she was wrong. She'd only known Lachlan a few days. It could be anyone who had accompanied him to the falls in the last two and a half decades of his life. A friend. A lover. A wife, even.

Now, why did that idea bother Jocelyn so much? It left a foul taste in her mouth to think of it, and some of the magic of the clearing dimmed.

"The water calms me as well," he told her after a pause. "Very much."

That made her smile again. "Well, seems we have somethin' else in common then. Who kens? Maybe by the end of all of this, ye might even like me. We could even be friends!"

"I like ye," Lachlan replied, so insistently that it stopped Jocelyn short. "Have I done somethin' tae make ye think otherwise?"

She tilted her head. "I didnae mean…I ken ye respect me and we had a nice conversation the other day, but we both ken ye'd rather be somewhere else than here. Ye barely spoke a word to me on our walk."

"That's nae…" Lachlan started, then sighed and shook his head. "Ye're right. I'm very sorry. That wasnae me intention; it had nothing tae do with ye. And besides, did we nae become friends that night on the grass?"

She felt color rising to her cheeks. "You shouldnae phrase it like that, it sounds improper." Then she saw him grinning and realized he'd done it on purpose. Gasping and laughing, she swatted at his arm. "Cheeky!"

He laughed heartily, the sound reverberating from his chest and bringing with it the magic of the clearing once more. "It's nae me fault if ye're fun tae tease, Jocelyn McMillan."

"Aye?" she responded, then kicked out with her submerged foot. The water splashed up onto his shirt, leaving a wet stain, and he yelped in shock.

She burst into laughter at the expression on his face, but her laughter cut short when he splashed her right back.

"Are ye challenging me?" she demanded, and Lachlan grinned.

It was almost sundown when they returned to the cottage, their bounty in hand. Agatha greeted them with a slightly too knowing smile, while Aoife gasped.

"What happened tae yer clothes?!" Aoife demanded. "Ye're both soaked tae the skin!"

Jocelyn and Lachlan exchanged glances and smirks, then Lachlan said, "It was raining."

"Nay, it wasnae!" Deirdre argued. "It's been sunny here all day."

Jocelyn shrugged. "Well," she said after a moment's pause, a secret smile in her heart. "Strange things happen by the water."