Highland Angels (Fated Hearts Book 3) (12 page)

Over the next week Anna’s eyes were opened to more than just why Davy held such a special place in the clan’s hearts. Davy always seemed to be in a hurry to get downstairs to the great hall for the morning meal. Although Andrew was often just leaving as they arrived, Davy seemed overjoyed and hugged his father enthusiastically. If Andrew was still seated at the table, and the seats near him were unoccupied, Davy climbed into one and chattered away happily.

On the other hand Andrew never seemed to be quite as pleased to see Davy. A brief look of what appeared to be pain crossed Andrew’s face the instant he saw the lad run towards him. He covered it so quickly Anna thought she might have imagined it the first time, so she watched more carefully after that.

She hadn’t imagined it.

Not only did Andrew almost cringe every morning when Davy found him still at the table, he never stayed long after his son arrived. And while Davy was full of suggestions about things they might do together, Andrew was equally full of reasons why he couldn’t do them.

Davy usually sighed and accepted Andrew’s refusals without argument. Anna found his restraint remarkable. She remembered whining and pleading with her own da when he refused to let her do something. Of course, he had doted on his only daughter and very seldom denied her anything. Anna could only assume that Davy was used to being rebuffed by his father.

The only attention Andrew seemed to give his son was during meals, and even then, it was minimal. As Anna thought back to the first meals she had with them in the hall, she realized it had always been Mairi and Davy who had kept conversation going. Andrew had interacted very little with his son.

This truly puzzled Anna. She knew Andrew loved David, so why did he so assiduously avoid the lad?

Of course, Andrew treated her no differently. While she had hoped to get to know her betrothed better during this time before the wedding, she saw considerably less of him than she had before. Like Davy, she really only saw Andrew during meals, and he paid no more attention to her than he did to his son. For someone who had asked her not to shut him out, he was doing a fairly good job of that himself.

After a week of this, Anna decided something had to change. On the day before Holy Thursday, she arose earlier than usual to ensure they did not miss Andrew. Even so, he was rising to leave the table as she and Davy entered the hall.

“Good morning, Andrew, I’m sorry we missed breaking our fast with ye.”

“Aye, well as the next few days start the Triduum and little work will be done, I wanted to make certain the men trained hard today.”

True to form Davy asked, “Da, can I come with ye for a while?”

“Nay, Davy, ye know it’s too dangerous for a wee lad on the lists.”

“All right, but could we go riding later? Just for a little while?”

“Nay, Davy, perhaps another time.”

As always, Davy nodded resignedly. “Aye, Da.”

But Anna didn’t accept the answer. “When will ye?”

“When will I what?”

“Go riding with Davy.”

“I am very busy, Anna. I will find a time to go riding…soon.”

Anna looked thoughtful for a moment. “Ye know, Davy, I love to go riding. Perhaps ye and I can go out for a bit.”

Andrew frowned. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Anna asked. She tried to sound innocently curious although she had expected this answer.

“Because ye’ve been ill.”

Anna laughed. “Oh nay, I’m fine. Clearly I was well enough to ride all the way to the straight and back over a week ago. A brief ride today will not overtax me.”

“I said nay, Anna.”

“What ye actually said was that I couldn’t ride because I have been ill but ye were mistaken in that.”

“Even so, ye and Davy cannot go riding alone.”

“Oh, is that all? Ye’ve no need to worry about that. I’m sure we can find someone to accompany us.”

“Uncle Graham might,” offered Davy, “or maybe Granda—he takes me riding a lot.”

“Then we’ll ask them. Even if neither of them are free, yer granda will certainly find someone to accompany us.”

Davy nodded vigorously. “Aye, he will. Maybe Cormag, or Gavin or even
Donald
.” His tone when he spoke Donald’s name was something akin to awe. Clearly he admired the captain of his grandfather’s guard.

Anna smiled at Andrew. “See, no need to worry. You can see to training and we will find someone else to ride with us for a bit.” She turned to Davy and took his hand. “Let’s eat so we can go find yer granda or Uncle Graham.”

“What do ye need to find me for?” asked Graham, having just walked in on the conversation.”

“Nothing,” said Andrew.

“Davy and I were hoping ye’d go riding with us,” said Anna.

“I’d be happy to,” said Graham.

“Anna,
I said nay
,” growled Andrew.

Anna shook her head as if dealing with a slow child. “Ye said we couldn’t go alone, but Graham can go with us, so we won’t be alone.”

Andrew’s frustration was clearly at its limit. “Ye cannot go at all. I’m tired of arguing about this. In fact, I forbid both of ye to leave this keep today.”

Graham stared, speechless, while Andrew turned to stalk out of the hall.

Anna had intentionally pushed him, but she had only wanted him to realize other men were willing to fill the role he should have in David’s life. Andrew’s vehemence both surprised and angered her. She called, “At the risk of sounding like Mairi, ye aren’t my da, my laird or my husband…yet. And I’m fairly certain if I ask
the laird
, he’ll see things my way.”

Andrew turned around slowly, glowering at her.

Anna crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow in challenge.

“Andrew, it isn’t a problem for me to escort them on a wee ride,” said Graham, trying to diffuse the situation.

“That isn’t the point,” Andrew ground out through gritted teeth.

“And exactly what is the point?” asked Anna.

He strode back towards her, took her by the elbow and walked to the stairs. “Excuse us for a moment.” He pulled her along at his side, up the stairs and down the hall until he reached an empty chamber. “What is this about?” he demanded.

“Maybe ye should tell me. Yer son asked ye to go riding with him—a perfectly reasonable request.”

“And I said I was too busy today.”

“Aye, ye always seem to be too busy to go riding with him, or to play fox and geese of an evening or to go fishing as he wanted to last week or to do any of the other perfectly reasonable things he asks ye to do with him on a daily basis. What’s the matter with ye? He just wants to be with his da. Why do ye keep him at arm’s length?”

“Ye don’t know what ye’re talking about.”

“Ye think not? When was the last time ye did anything with yer son, other than sit at the same table?”

“I do things with my son.”

“When, Andrew? When was the last time?” she demanded.

He scowled and didn’t answer.

“I’ll tell ye when it was. It was the day he fell through the ice almost five weeks ago, and that happened because ye only spent a few hours with him in the morning, before giving him to someone else’s care. I’ll warrant I’ve spent more time with that sweet child in the last five weeks than ye have in the last few years.”

“I have a great many responsibilities, Anna. You couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Clearly, I don’t. I thought one of a father’s responsibilities was to raise his child. Davy loves ye with all his heart. I would have thought nearly losing him would have reminded ye of how precious he is to ye.

“This is none of yer business.”

“Did ye actually just say that to me? We’re to be married. Ye told me ye came as a pair, didn’t ye?”

“Aye, we do. And I’m glad ye care about Davy. He needs a mother, but that doesn’t give ye the right—”

“He needs a father too, and ye’re doing everything in yer power to avoid being that.”

“Ye don’t understand.”

“Don’t I? Let me ask ye this, how difficult was it for ye not to have a mother? Oh wait…I forgot, yer da married Kenna when ye were younger than Davy is now. From what I hear she was a wonderful mother.”

“Aye she was.”

“Mairi was at least old enough to remember her too. Davy and I don’t remember our mothers. I had Grizel, but she wasn’t exactly a mother, and I had my da. Davy has had no one for the last several years.”

“He’s had me.”

“He hasn’t. Andrew, he only wants a tiny bit of yer time once in a while, and yet ye rebuff him every day. To his credit he simply accepts it with no argument or pleading. But every day I see how much it hurts him and how he increasingly seeks love and approval elsewhere. Ye have given me one task and I am trying to do it. But do ye remember what ye said? Ye told me that the best thing I could do, what ye needed most, was for me to care for Davy so that you didn’t have to.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists at his sides. “I said I wanted ye to care for Davy so I wouldn’t have to
worry
.”

“As it turns out, it’s pretty much the same thing. So, pardon me, I have a wee broken heart to go tend.” She turned to walk out of the room.

Andrew grabbed her arm, “We aren’t finished.”

She yanked her arm away from him. “Yes we are. Since ye’ll neither go riding with us nor allow us to go with anyone else or even leave the keep, I’ll find something else to occupy Davy’s time today. Go train yer men. Yer son is no longer yer problem. I’ll see he doesn’t bother ye again.”

~ * ~

Andrew fairly trembled with suppressed rage as he watched his betrothed stride angrily toward the door again. “Don’t take another step.”

She spun back around. “Nay, Andrew. Ye don’t have the right to—”

“And don’t tell me what rights I have. Ye have levelled a serious accusation. How dare ye suggest I don’t love my son?”

Anna squared her shoulders. “I suggested no such thing. I know ye love him. I said ye
avoid
him.”

“I don’t avoid my son either.” Even as the words left his lips, he knew they weren’t completely true. He avoided anything that reminded him of Joan.

Immediately after she died, he moved out of the chamber they had shared because the memories were too raw. He hadn’t attended the celebration of Bram Sutherland’s wedding to Joan’s cousin several years ago because her family would be there in force and he didn’t want to be reminded of his loss. Likewise, he hadn’t wanted them invited to his upcoming wedding to Anna, but his father had overruled that, not wishing to insult either the Sinclairs or the Sutherlands.

Davy was little more than a bairn when Joan died, but as he grew older and lost his soft, baby features, he resembled her more and more. Truth told, it caused Andrew’s heart to ache with loss each time he caught sight of his son.

“Aye ye do avoid him, Andrew.” Her tone had become soft and gentle. “Help me understand why.”

Anna was painfully perceptive. He did avoid Davy, but, and he couldn’t deny that she was right. But he didn’t want to discuss this with her. “Leave it, Anna.”

“Nay. Ye asked me not to shut ye out. Now I’m asking ye the same thing. Davy is doted on by every member of this clan except the one person whose attention he most seeks.”

“Ye can’t possibly understand.”

“Perhaps not. But here’s what I do understand. The day Davy fell through the ice, ye were terrified at the thought of losing him. And yet, what ye don’t realize is, ye are losing him bit by bit anyway. He grows older and farther away from ye as each day passes. If things keep going as they are, someday he’ll stop seeking yer time and attention altogether, and on that day ye will have lost a thing of great value.” Anna looked down for a moment, blinking as if she held back tears. When she looked at him again she said, “And he will have as well.”

Andrew stared at her in stunned silence as the truth washed over him. Had he wanted to avoid the pain of his own loss so completely that he shut the dearest piece of Joan remaining to him out of his life?
Dear God what have I done?

Perhaps reading his silence as stubbornness or anger, Anna sighed. “Excuse me. I’m sorry if I angered ye. It was for Davy.”

She started to leave and once again he stopped her. “Nay, Anna, wait. Please…wait.”

She turned back to face him again but said nothing.

“Ye’re right. I’ve been a coward.”

“I never said that.”

“I know ye didn’t, but it’s the truth. I’ve told ye before that I loved Davy’s mother. The truth is, Davy grows more like Joan each day, and not just in looks. He is as full of life and joy as she was. My heart aches for her every time I look at him…and so until now I suppose I have done whatever I could to prevent that pain.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“Nay, I needed to be pushed. I have been so wrapped up in my own sorrow, I held myself away from the only person who will ever be as precious to me as Joan was. I can never give my heart to anyone like that again. I thought solely of my own pain and, as a result, denied a motherless lad his father too. Even coming so very close to losing him didn’t change anything.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Thank ye, Anna. Now that I look back, I realize others may have tried to tell me the same thing but ye’re more relentless than the Highland winds in a winter gale.”