“Finlay.”
“Very well. My father has asked me to be Chieftain—immediately.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise.
“He what? Is he well?”
Finlay nodded. “Yes, as far as I know. He thinks that to keep the clan happy, to move forward into the new times ahead, it would be better to have me lead now than in the future. He said he has lost interest in doing anything different, in making changes. He’s happy to provide counsel, but… the McDougalls are mine to lead.”
He had been rather stunned since his father had told him and now, somehow saying the words made it all much more real. “It’s rather hard to believe, I know—”
“Your father is a wise man,” Kyla said, reaching into his lap and taking one of his hands in hers. “You will do an admirable job of it, Finlay, I know you will.”
“Yes, but—”
“Besides,” she said with an enthusiastic smile, “we will be doing this together, will we not?”
“I suppose we will,” he said, unsure whether he should be thankful or wary at the fact. He was pleased to have her support, but with Kyla he wasn’t entirely sure what that support would look like. Would she do as he said, or would she only support him if he did as she thought was right?
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said, apparently reading his mind as she lightly smacked him on the arm. “I know what you are thinking. And the answer is that it’s all about compromise, Finlay. How does that sound to you?”
“Just wonderful,” he murmured, but as he followed her to the door, he wasn’t entirely sure how truthful his answer was. How many past McDougall chieftains had to compromise with their wives?
Somehow he figured he was going to be the first.
14
Kyla watched Finlay carefully the following evening. He kept frowning at Roderick across the supper table. His brother was fidgeting, his face serious, his big body somewhat rigid. His countenance was not at all usual for the easy-going, affable McDougall. Finlay said nothing, just continued to eye him warily.
“Finlay,” she whispered to him, his scent filling her when she leaned over his shoulder, and a thrill coursed through her at how much everything had changed over the past day. “What’s wrong?”
The family stood and Finlay shook his head in confusion.
“I’m not sure,” he muttered. “But there is something amiss with Roderick—and I have a feeling it’s not something that the rest of us are going to welcome. When Roderick isn’t himself, it’s never good.”
Kyla nodded nervously. There was enough for all of them to deal with as it was. They certainly didn’t need any more bad news.
They didn’t have long to wait for Roderick’s revelation—only until Duncan and Jane retired for the evening.
The five of them, the siblings and Kyla, sat around the fire, staring at the flickering light, welcoming the warm embrace of the flames. Kyla had filtered out much of the chatter around her, and instead was musing about how she had begun to feel at home here. She quite liked the camaraderie the McDougalls shared. At Darfield, her father and brother always kept to their own interests, and after supper she typically spent her time alone in her bedroom, poring over the books and balancing ledgers.
Here, there was a clear distinction between the work day and time for family. She loved it.
Roderick stood up suddenly and paced back and forth a couple of times in front of the fireplace as the rest of them looked up at him, waiting for him to finally reveal what was on his mind. Anticipation lined his wide face.
“I have a plan,” he finally announced, taking a seat in a hard wooden chair next to the fireplace, where he could see them all.
“Oh?” Finlay cocked an eyebrow. Kyla knew that Finlay thought Roderick’s plans always spelled trouble.
“We have ourselves in a mess here. It’s not just us either, but clan chieftains throughout the Highlands.”
“Aye. That isn’t news.”
“No. And it’s not fair,” Roderick said, passion bursting from him, and Kyla sensed he had been storing up this plea, whatever it was, for quite some time. “We’ve worked so hard. Father has spent his life trying to save our family. Now he’s passed it on to you to do so, Fin. We do all we can for this clan, and we get no thanks for it. Instead, we are questioned, berated, and forced to make new plans again and again. We’ve been so intent on saving ourselves, saving the crofters, saving our land, and we have not stopped to ask the obvious question. Why bother?”
“Why bother?” Finlay, who had been slouched in his chair, straightened and leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he looked at his brother. “What do you mean, why bother? We bother because if we don’t, who else will? We bother because it’s our responsibility, our way of life!”
“Aye, I knew you’d say that Fin, but here’s the thing—it doesn’t have to be this way!” Roderick said, splaying his hands out in front of him. “There is another answer, and it’s right in front of us. Gregor went west. Callum followed to find him and decided to stay because he fell in love. And it’s not just his wife that kept him there. It’s the land, the people, the way he makes his living. Why don’t we take the chance as well? Let’s sell this place, and leave the worry and the struggle behind. These lands can become someone else’s problem. Others have done it. The northern Campbells did. The Keiths did. Let us follow and make our way west, leaving all of this behind!”
Roderick had stood while he spoke, and finished his speech by throwing a hand in the air. It was quite dramatic, and Kyla would have been reasonably swayed had she not already held a firm opinion on the matter.
The impassioned plea was followed by silence. Knowing it wasn’t her place to say anything at the moment, Kyla
