“Do ye think ye can get supper on alone?” Sileas said, as she lifted her apron over her head. “I have an errand to run.”
She fled the kitchen without waiting for Dina to answer and went looking for Ian, intent on telling him she had changed her mind about going to Tearlag’s with him. She stopped in her tracks when she found him behind the byre with his father.
Her throat felt tight and tears stung the back of her eyes as she took in the scene. Damn Ian. Just when she was ready to accept that he had nothing left in him of the lad she had loved, he would go and do something like this.
Ian had carved a piece of wood and fitted it with leather straps to his father’s half-missing leg. With one arm over Ian’s shoulder, Payton was learning to walk with it.
The rest of them had treated Payton like the invalid they saw him to be. They fetched and carried for him and —until today—put up with his rage at finding himself less than the man he used to be. Ian was a warrior and understood his father better than they had.
She felt guilty as she realized this was the first Payton had been outside the house since Niall carried him home—and this was a man who was used to spending most of his waking hours outdoors.
She watched as Ian walked with his father at an excruciatingly slow pace, up and down the length of the byre, and then up and down again.
“Ye got it, da,” Ian said.
Payton snorted. “Soon I will be dancing, aye?”
“Ye were always a terrible dancer, da.”
At the sound of Payton’s laugh, she felt her determination to resist Ian weaken another notch. This was so like the Ian she remembered. He had seen just the right thing to do to help his father and done it.
“Ye will be walking on your own in no time,” Ian said. “As soon as ye do, we’ll get a sword in your hand.”
“Good. I’m a much better fighter than dancer,” Payton said.
Ian was still laughing when he looked up and saw her. She managed to wipe her tears away before Payton noticed her as well.
“Ah, Sileas,” Payton said, with a smile that shone in his eyes. “ ’Tis a fine day to be out, is it not?”
It was bone-cold and damp.
“A very fine day, indeed, Payton,” she said, her eyes blurring. “The best in a long, long while.”
CHAPTER 13
Sileas’s emotions felt raw, whipsawed between her anger with Ian and the warmth she felt toward him for what he’d done for Payton. She realized this walk to Tearlag’s was the first she had been alone with him since his return—except for the two times in her bedchamber, which hadn’t been good for conversation.
“What will ye do to see that Connor is made chieftain?” she asked, for something to say.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, for the sake of the clan,” Ian said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Connor. He’s like a brother to me.”
If Ian had a plan, he wasn’t sharing it with her.
“Tearlag’s is a good place to meet,” she said. “I rarely see another soul on the path to her cottage.”
“I suspect Connor and Duncan are staying in the cave on the beach below her cottage,” Ian said. “That cove is a good place to hide Shaggy’s boat as well.”
“I remember that cave,” she said, turning to him. “You lads used to hide there, pretending ye were wild pirates.”
The other boys had been furious when she found them, until Ian suggested she could be the captive princess they held for ransom. At the time, being bound and gagged had seemed a small price to pay to be included in their game.
The path turned inland for the last mile, taking travelers through the valley to avoid the high sea cliffs on this stretch of the coast. Before taking the turn, Sileas and Ian left the path to stand in a flat, grassy area at the top of the cliff.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Sileas said.
She breathed in the brisk sea breeze as she gazed at the mountains that rose up on the other side of the inlet. Excitement tingled at her fingertips as she listened to the crash of waves far below. Like many islanders, the wildness of the sea spoke to her soul.
“Shall we see if the log is still there?” Ian asked, pointing to their right, where a goat path continued along the cliff.
“Aye, let’s.”
Ian took her hand and smiled at her as he tucked it under his plaid to keep it warm. She knew he was remembering, as she was, how he used to take her hand along this path.
“I’m no likely to step off the edge now,” she said, smiling back.
“All the same, I’ll feel better if I have a hold on ye,” he said. “The wind is strong, and it’s a long way down.”
The first part of the cliff path was wide enough for them to walk side by side between the cliff and the rock outcrop. After a short distance, the path veered around a huge boulder. It narrowed beyond that and then ended abruptly at the edge of a giant crevice that split the cliff.
“The log is still here,” Ian said, sounding pleased.
