“She is.” Jolene suddenly gasped and stared wide-eyed at Gybbon. “And she was just awake. If she hears him . . .”
“She might attempt to do something foolish like try to come hurrying down the stairs,” Gybbon said, even as he ran up the stairs to grab hold of Mora, who stood there clutching the top post. “Easy, lad,” he cautioned Andrew, when the boy ran up to her. “I fear a good hug right now could hurt her.”
Andrew frowned but grasped her by the hand instead. “They found me, Mora. I was in my safe place.”
“Good lad. Ye did right. I think that I had best get back on my bed now though,” she murmured, feeling a bit shaky.
She squeaked when Gybbon scooped her up in his arms and Andrew kept his grip on her hand, running along with them as Gybbon strode back to her room. He set her down on her bed and frowned down at her. Mora sensed a lecture coming on, but Jolene hurried over and pushed both Andrew and Gybbon away from the bed.
“Are you sure you did not open the wound again?” Jolene asked Mora.
“Aye, verra sure. I just had no strength left after the short walk to the stairs.”
“No surprise. I will have a look later, though; mayhaps change the bandage.”
“Thank ye. The cream does seem to still the sting and itch of it.”
A moment later Mora found herself alone with Gybbon and Andrew. “Maggie?” she whispered.
“We cannae be certain. The cottage was burned, but one mon, a fellow named Iain, said he saw her run out and he helped to put the fire out where her skirts had caught alight. Then she looked around, probably for Andrew, who had run off to hide by then, and then she got in her wagon, which was packed with a lot of her things. Iain said she told him not to tell anyone but Mora that she was going to her sister’s, and then she rode off. No one else has seen her. We e’en talked with Morag Sinclair.”
“Maggie went to her sister’s?”
“Aye, she did,” said Andrew. “I thought she had died in the fire. She ran into the house while it was burning fierce and the roof started falling down. I heard her scream and could see a bit of dress catch on fire, so I believed she had died. I should have waited.”
Mora reached out to ruffle his hair. “Then Gybbon and the men wouldnae have found you.”
“Oh, is that true?” Andrew looked up at Gybbon and Gybbon nodded. “Can I get up on the bed now?”
“Weel, I think ye need to get washed up and change your clothes. Ye smell strongly of smoke.”
Andrew sniffed the sleeve of his shirt and grimaced. “Aye, I do.”
“Go ask the lady we met at the door when we arrived here. She will help.”
The moment the boy was gone, Gybbon frowned down at Mora. Her eyes were already closing and he guessed the small burst of strength she had found when hearing Andrew’s voice had faded away. There would have to be some time spent for her to get a lot of rest until she could hold on to that strength before they headed to Gormfuerach. He reached out to brush strands of hair from her face.
“Thank ye so verra much,” she said softly. “I feared he was lost.”
“I think it may have been close. Maggie had been packing to leave. She made Andrew stay out by the wagon so that the men wouldnae see him when they came. Maggie’s only mistake was thinking they were done after they had knocked her around some. They set fire to her house as they left. Andrew saw her come out but then run back inside. When he saw the ceilings fall he was so certain she had died, he ran to his tree. The mon named Iain came by then and saw her stagger out, coughing and with her skirts alight. He threw some water on her skirts, she looked about but didnae see any sign of Andrew, so she left.”
“And then ye went to his safe place. His wee keep as my mother called it.” She smiled faintly.
“We did. Sigimor was impressed. Took some coaxing to get him out, but talk of his soldier, you, and Freya did the trick. Get some rest, Mora. And, aye, before ye ask, ye are still too weak to move about much or travel, but that will pass quickly. As soon as Jolene believes ye are weel enough, we will go to Gormfeurach.”
She nodded, only the faintest of movements, but he knew she was still more asleep than awake. He bent down and kissed her on the mouth, lingering for a minute and savoring the warm softness of her lips. Then he stood up straight, could not resist running his fingers through her hair once more, and walked away.
Mora opened her eyes enough to watch him leave, then sighed and touched her lips. She had to wonder what a proper kiss, one where they were both awake, would feel like. Considering how the small kisses he gave her made her heart pound, she was not sure she could survive a proper one.
*
“How does she fare?” asked Sigimor when Gybbon sat down next to him and poured himself some ale.
“Weak but no fever and clear of thought. There isnae any way to tell how long it will take her to be able to move about freely enough for even a ride in a wagon. Especially for the two, mayhap e’en three days it will take to get to Gormfeurach.”
“But it may give us time to stare down the sheriff and get him to cease sniffing around and find out how he can keep believing in the lies those brothers tell him.”
“Mayhap we should take the time to go visit the mon and see just what lies he has believed.”
“I dinnae have much say in getting a mon that post for ’tis Ogilvy land, but my opinion is nay ignored.”
Gybbon grinned. “Does anyone manage to ignore your opinion on something?”
“My wife.”
Gybbon just laughed for Sigimor sounded truly impressed and proud of that fact. He was satisfied with the meager plan. It would be good to be home, to have his brother at his side as he attempted to help Mora. He also wanted to take this trouble away from Sigimor. The man would stand firm for the ones he called friend or family in front of anything, but he had to live here, near the Ogilvy clan. He also had a wife, a son, and two little daughters who needed an army of nurses to keep them out of trouble. There was also the matter of so many of his people being ill. It was going to be better if he took this trouble with him when he left.
*
It was late the next day before they got a chance to ride back to the village. This time only Sigimor, Gybbon, and Tait went. As they rode past the house with the green door, Morag was out cleaning her thresh stone. She paused, looked at them and smiled, then waved. All three men waved back.
The place that held the jail and the sheriff was impressively tidy but the men standing outside looked sullen. Gybbon wondered if the men the sheriff had hired knew the Ogilvy brothers were spouting lies. They all dismounted, tied up the horses to the post, and went inside.
The first thing one saw upon entering the building was the sheriff. The man sat behind a big, heavy table covered in a rather ornate cloth. Even though where it was set made it clear to anyone coming in that this man was the leader, Gybbon thought such a huge wooden table made the man look small. It was more suited to a man like Sigimor.
“What can I do for ye, sirs?” the man asked, but did not get up.
“We want to ken what the Ogilvy brothers have told ye,” said Sigimor.
“Ye mean about that lass with the cat?”
“Aye, about the lass. What have ye been told that has ye hunting her?”
“She murdered Old William, who was caring for our laird, and she stole Robert’s sword to do it. We are wondering if it was she who also killed David and his wife.”
Sigimor laughed. “And ye considered that a possibility? Fool. The lad is using ye to get what they want. They want the estate back to what it was in their grandfather’s time and will kill anyone who stands in the way.”