“Saved you? From what?”
“I grew up in a poor home with penniless parents who worked for everything they had. We worked our own land, built our own home, and never took from a soul. ’Twas my job to take the fruits of our labor to the village and sell them, and it pained me to do so every time.
“Ye see, when I learned to talk as a young boy, the words wouldna come smoothly. I couldna get anything out, and I would stutter and struggle with the simplest of phrases. Seeing others only caused me heartache, for I always felt shame at my difficulty. But still, ’twas always my job to go to the village, for my mother said I’d never get better if I dinna speak to others. She was right, though I wouldna know for many years. On the day my parents died, I’d fought with them over going to the village. When I came home, I found them slaughtered.
“In my heartache, I fled. I doona remember the moons that came after, only that Adwen happened upon the cave I’d made my home when I was near death from grief and starvation.”
“Oh my God, Orick.” I wrapped my arms around him, my heart aching for the childhood he’d lost that day. I couldn’t imagine Orick as anything other than the talkative, friendly man he was now. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ach, lass, ’tis like a dream to me now. I can think back on it with only a small pain, no the heart-tearing ache that consumed me for so long. I know that if Adwen had not found me, I would have died.
“Ye know, as a child, Adwen was much as Cooper is now—old beyond his years, caring, and courageous. ’Tis perhaps why I have taken to wee Cooper so. Anyhow, Adwen took my hand in that cave, when I know I looked frightening enough that he dinna know if I would accept his hand or eat it.
“His family took me in and ’twas a year before I uttered a word. They were all kind to me, but most kept their distance—not Adwen. Every day, he would come to sit with me, often all afternoon, and he would talk. He would talk, knowing I wouldn’t say anything back. He never lost his patience with me, never said an unkind word. With time, a trust grew, and when I did talk, there was no more stutter in my voice.”
I stood there sobbing against Orick’s chest while he rubbed my back in comfort. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. His story broke my heart.
“Oh, Orick. I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Ach, ye doona need to say anything, lass. I dinna tell ye to upset ye. I told ye so ye’d know how much I owe Adwen. Even if that kind lad turned into an entitled, ridiculous man, I owe him my life.”
I laughed and ran the back of my hand over my eyes as I stepped away from him. Orick and Adwen could take jabs at each other all they wanted. Theirs was a brotherly love that allowed for anything.
“Thank you for telling me, Orick. We should join them and go on through, I think. Otherwise, we might drown standing out in this rain.”
“Aye. And lass, I doona think I helped ye as I meant to. Allow me to tell ye what I would do.”
“Please.” I needed any help I could get, and I valued Orick’s opinion more than most.
“The decision Morna left ye with is too grand to make on yer own. If fate is real, lass, I think she deals more in the matters of the heart than in people’s lives, for we are all fated to die, aye? Seems a wasteful thing for fate to be concerned in, if ye ask me.”
He made a valid point. “Well, yes.”
“Then share what ye have with Isobel and let her decide. ’Tis her life. I doona see why ye should be the one to bear such a burden.”
He was right. Isobel was the only one with the right to make this decision.
CHAPTER 36
Cagair Castle – 1649
“Will ye tell me now where ye’ve been, Jane? For ’twas not the village.”
“No.” I smiled as I crawled onto the bed next to her. She looked weak and tired, but I could tell it had been a good day for her. She greeted us outside of her room when we arrived, and her eyes didn’t look as dull as they had the afternoon we left. “It wasn’t the village.”
“Aye, I know. Where did ye go?”
“I can’t tell you that, Isobel. You wouldn’t believe me even if I did.”
She grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “If I willna believe ye, then what is the harm in telling me? Please, Jane. There’s no been much to occupy my mind these last few days. ’Twas lonely here without the rest of ye.”
“Fine.” I thumbed the small glass vial hidden in one of the folds of my dress. “We went to the future.”
Isobel laughed and lifted her finger to point at me. “See? ’Twas easy to tell me, and yer fanciful answer is one of the reasons I missed ye so. It doesna matter. I’m just happy that ye’ve all returned safely.”