Her fingers began to tingle and something told her to go to the garden. Cara frowned at the pile of earth. It would take months to clean the garden, and she had other things to do first. She fisted her hands and turned away from the window.
She saw something wrapped on a nearby table and walked to it. She knew before she opened it that it was bread.
Angus had been supplying the brothers with bread and, she suspected, whatever else he could get to them. She thought of the candles she had burned, uncaring of where they had come from. There was no one at the castle to make candles. They had come from the village, she was sure. Now there was no one there to make more once hers were burned out.
Cara winced at her decadence. Sister Abigail had told Cara she needed to think of others more, that she put herself in the forefront too often. When it came to the dark, she didn’t have a choice over her fear.
Yet she had sat in the dark for hours. She had been terrified, but Lucan had been with her. He had promised her nothing lurked in the shadows waiting to attack.
It had been the most difficult thing she had done, to sit in the dark, her mind racing with possibilities. But she couldn’t put the brothers in jeopardy, either. Lucan would never have blown out her candles had there not been danger. She understood that, and for him she had faced her demons.
She blinked and focused on the kitchen. After a bit of scrounging, she found trenchers and gathered some oatcakes and the last bit of cheese she discovered and set it in the great hall. It wasn’t until she returned from the kitchen with a pitcher of water that she saw Fallon standing by the table staring at the food.
“What is it?” she asked. “Were you saving the cheese?”
Fallon shook his head. “It’s been a very long time since a woman has served me.”
“Sit,” she said. “I would bake some bread or make soup for supper, but there are few supplies in the kitchen.”
“We got most everything from Angus. He and Quinn had a special relationship.”
She glanced at the door hoping to see Lucan. One heartbeat, two, and still no Lucan.
“Cara,” Fallon said.
She looked at him and forced a smile. “Will it be just us this morn?”
He stared at her a moment, his dark green eyes taking everything in. “For the moment. Quinn is at the village to see if he can learn anything.”
She refused to ask about Lucan, but the question burned inside her. Instead, she handed Fallon an oatcake and filled his goblet with water.
“We used to want for nothing,” he said after he took a bite of cheese. “Sheep dotted the hillsides and we fished the sea. My mother cultivated a rich garden full of herbs and flowers. A steady supply of milk, water, and wine was always available for whoever wanted it. I havena had milk in so long I’ve forgotten the taste.”
“You and your brothers have survived when others would have returned to Deirdre.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Lucan is the one who kept us together. Had it been just Quinn and I, we would have gone our separate ways years ago.”
“You don’t know that. Quinn loves you. You’re his only link to his past, and though he may hold much anger, he won’t forget that.”
Fallon tilted his head to the side. “And what of me, Cara? How do you see me?”
She sat and took a bite of an oatcake and chewed, giving herself time to think. The last thing she wanted to do was anger Fallon, but he had asked. She shrugged as she swallowed the food. “I think you’re afraid of the god, afraid of what you might do. I think you want to do the right thing, you want to be there for your brothers as you always have, but you’ve forgotten how.”
Fallon smiled. “How is it you can be here for just a few days and see things so clearly?”
“I don’t know.” Cara lowered her gaze and turned the oatcake in her fingers.
“What do you see of Lucan?”
She had been afraid Fallon would ask. “Nothing.”
“I think you’re lying. You see Quinn and me for what we are. I think you see Lucan for what he is as well.”
“Lucan is a good man,” she said.
“Without a doubt, he’s the best.”
She raised her gaze to Fallon. “He . . . he fears disappointing or failing either of you. He keeps much hidden in order to keep the three of you together.”
Fallon’s brow furrowed. “What does he keep hidden?”
“His feelings, his wishes, his desires.”
Fallon sighed and reached to the floor where he had set his wine bottle. He lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. “We’ve made a muck of things, haven’t we?”
“You’ve done the best you could with what you had.” Cara rose. She had thought she wanted company, but Fallon dug too deep into her own feelings. “I’m going to walk around.”
“Be careful. There are places in the castle that aren’t safe.”
She nodded. “I will.”
Lucan dropped his head back against the stones after Cara left the great hall. He had taken a spot near the ceiling, deep in the shadows where another stairway used to be leading to a different part of the castle that was now rubble.
He hadn’t realized Cara had seen all of them for exactly what they were. Her words had put things into perspective. However, he still didn’t trust himself to be alone with her.
He glanced down at Fallon to find him watching him.
“You might as well come and eat now,” Fallon said.
Lucan shook his head. “I’m going to check on Quinn. Keep an eye on her.”
He didn’t wait for Fallon to answer; Lucan trusted his brother to keep Cara safe. Lucan jumped to the floor and strode from the great hall. Quinn had been gone too long.
* * *
Quinn hid behind one of the cottages and listened to the men talking. Twenty more MacClures had arrived and set about gathering the bodies. They were discussing burying them or burning them. Since there were about fifty bodies, the vote was leaning toward burning.
He heard movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Lucan moving slowly over the grass toward him.
“What are they doing?” Lucan asked.
Quinn shrugged. “Mostly muttering about wanting to find the bastards that did this,” he whispered. “I wonder if we looked as they do when we found our clan.”
“You mean appalled, angry, shocked, and bitter? Aye, Brother, I’m sure we looked just as they do.”
“Deirdre got perverse pleasure out of it.”
Lucan snorted. “How something so beautiful could be so evil I’ll never understand.”
“I’ve never seen anyone with hair like hers,” Quinn said, remembering. “It hung to the floor and was as white as snow.”
“Aye. I remember. I also remember her choking me with it.”
Quinn grimaced. “I’d forgotten that. It’s like her magic can control her hair.”
“I know.”
Quinn almost grinned at Lucan’s dry tone. He hadn’t been himself since he’d brought Cara into the castle. Quinn had caught his brother watching Cara, his gaze steady, as if he was trying to memorize every detail. He should tell Lucan not to bother, that it didn’t work, but decided to hold his tongue.
“Who is that?” Lucan asked.
Quinn leaned to the side to see who Lucan meant. When Quinn saw the petite woman with hair as black as pitch he shrugged. “She hasna said a word. She arrived with them, yet no one speaks to her and few look in her direction.”
