Highland Christmas

Authors: J. Lee Coulter

Highland
Christmas

J
.
Lee Coulter

Published by J. Lee Coulter

Cover art courtesy of Canstockphotos.com

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

"Who do ye think he is?" whispered the lass.

Her older brother shook his head. "I do nae ken but he looks ta be injured. We should fetch Maither. She will heal him." Glancing at the grey sky above, he knew he needed to take wee Mary home before it released it's fury. He had no wish to abandon the stranger but his sister was only six-years-old. He had to see to her first. With his decision made, he quickly put together a fire to warm the man and ward off predators. He took Mary's hand in his to hurry her home. She pulled back in alarm.

"What are ye doing, Michael? We cannot leave the poor man all alone!"

Michael turned to her in frustration. He did not need her childish
reasoning
right now. They must hurry. "We are nae deserting him, Mary, but I must get ye home and bring back help. We are nae strong enough ta move him by ourselves. Now come along quickly so we may find some aide."

The snow began drifting down a few moments before they reached their hut. Michael practically drug his sister to the door as she began catching snowflakes in her hand, delaying him further.

"Come along, Mary. We must aide the man we left behind." With a guilty look for forgetting about him, she ran the rest of the way home
, bursting through the door.

"Maither, Maither," she cried as she
ran inside
. "We found a man sleeping in the snow!"

Meg put a hand to her aching back as she straightened. She was bone weary from her daily chores and now she had this exuberant child bouncing in spouting nonsense to her. She raised a dubious blonde brow at her daughter then spotted Michael entering their cramped quarters.

"What silliness have ye concocted this day, my sweet?"

"She speaks true, Maither. There is an injured man lying near the burn a half league from here. We came ta get your help."

Meg gave her son a hard stare. T
hese past two years had been a
struggle for them. If only their faither had not been killed on that raid into MacDonald land. Now they expected her to take in a stranger and feed him as well. How could she? But , then again, how could she not? It was the Christian thing to do. She sighed. It would be getting dark soon.

"Hitch Maisy ta the cart, Michael. And be quick about it." Gathering blankets and a few supplies
she might need
,
Meghan
met him outside the door. "There is stew in the hearth and bread in the cupboard. See ta your sister until I return."

"But Maither, he is a large man. Ye will need my strength ta help ye."

"Nay, Michael. I need ye here looking after Mary. God willing, I will manage. He's at the burn we picnic at?"

"Aye. I built him a fire but it will nae last long. Please hurry!"

"Nae worries, son. I will return afore ye ken it." She hurried
the cart
off at a brisk trot as she studied the darkening sky. The snow still fell lightly but that would not last much longer. She had to return before it worsened.

Michael had marked the path well and she was soon standing over the injured man.

He was certainly right about the size of him. How am I ta get him in the cart?
Frustrated, she knelt in the snow and checked for injuries. All that she found was a cut and a lump on his right temple. He groaned.

"Sir knight. Can ye he
ar
me? I have come ta give ye aide but ye must help me. I can nae lift ye into my cart, ye must help." His eyes fluttered open a crack. Meg smiled as she helped him
struggle to his feet
and into the cart. Tucking the blankets securely about his shivering body, she headed for home. Later that eve as she warmed herself near the hearth, she studied the man they had rescued. He had not awakened but the once.
Michael had helped her get him into the
crofter’s hut. Not an easy task for a nine-year- old boy and a
f
ive foot three widow.

She could see by his clothing that he was a man of some import. He
remained
quite attractive for someone pushing sixty, as well. Meg shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was not searching for a man. At her age of twenty-five, her child-bearing years would soon end. No man wanted such on old wife. She rose to go to her pallet when a large hand grasped her wrist in an iron hold.

"Who are ye, lass? Where am I?"

Staring pointedly at her wrist, Meg replied, "Is this the manner of treatment ye give when offered a helping hand?"

He released her instantly. "Forgive me, m'lady. I was nae clear-headed when I awoke."

"I am Meghan MacCauley and ye be in my home. Are ye hungry...thirsty? I have stew over the fire if you are of a mind ta have some Sir...?"

The old knight studied her for a moment, wondering if he should trust her with his name. Grunting, he allowed for some leniency. "William, my lady, and aye, I would welcome some sustenance." As she bustled around preparing his meal, William rose
cautiously
and sat at the table. "Where be your husband?"

She stiffened. "Lachlan was killed just two years past. I have nae bothered with another."

Placing the fare before him, Meg retreated to the hearth. "Tell me, Sir William, how did ye come ta be on MacCauley land without so much as a steed?"

His brow arched. "Ye did nae find my mount?"

"There was naught but ye in the place where my children found ye. Your horse must have run off."

"Tis just as well. The auld nag and I did nae see eye ta eye. Tis the cause of my current predicament." His eyes twinkled with merriment.

Meg glanced away
uneasily
.
He was a big man and as stout as they come. She was alone, save for the bairns, and no match
for this man if he decided to a
ssault
her. She twisted her fingers as she tried to figure out where to let him sleep for the night. The lean-to that served as a stable was out of the question as the winds howled outside the door. It wasn't even fit for their horse!

William studied her beneath his brow as he ate. It did not take an astute man to see her dilemma and know the cause of her anxiety. He would leave as soon as the weather cleared.

"Ye have naught ta fear, lass. I would nae harm ye."

"I do nae fear ye," she lied. "I was simply figuring out where ta let ye rest.
There is nae helping it though, y
e
will
use my bed and I will retire with the bairns in the loft."

He leapt to his feet. "I would nae push ye from your bed, my lady! I can use the loft...or the stable."

She shook her head. "Ye would nae fit in the loft, and the stable is nae fit for man or beast. Nay, my solution is best."

Seeing that she was right, he acquiesced. Settling back in the chair, he sipped his ale. "Tell me, Lady Meghan, why do ye live out here all alone? Ye are a beautiful young lass who could have your pick of any man. Why hide out in the forest?"

"Ye are mistaken, Sir William. I am neither young nor a lady...who would want me? I was wed to a knight once and it was nae pleasant. Why would I wish ta repeat that? At least now I can do as I please and answer ta nae one but God. Besides, nae man of worth would ever look my way when he sees only a widowed healer with two young children. Nay. I do nae have a need for that."

"I can nae agree with your assessment, lass. I ken nae your late husband, but he was a fool ta mistreat ye. As for the other...when ye near my age, then ye may call yourself auld. I would say ye are in the prime of life right now, naught more."

Meg yawned. It had been a long day for her and morning came early. Pulling her tartan closer about her shoulders, she walked to the ladder.

"I will nae argue the point with ye, my lord. I find that I am in need of some rest so I bid ye good eve. If ye need anything feel free ta fetch it."

"I thank ye for your hospitality, my lady. Rest well."

Nodding, she retired for the night.

William perused her small hut.
She needs much but
I believe her
pride refuses aide. I must repay her kindness in some manner. But how?
A wide grin spread across his l
ips as a solution came to mind.
Ahh...tis good ta be king!

William rose before dawn to the sound of horses in the yard. Upon venturing outside he found his entourage approaching, leading his wayward steed. He halted them with a gesture
as he strolled towards the tired guard.

“I see ye have found me, Fergus.”

“Aye, Sire. Are ye well?”

“Thanks ta this family...aye. I must reward them once I return ta the castle.” Arching his brow, he queried,”Do ye ken where my cousin might be?”

“I heard that he was at the Sutherland’s rejecting another bride.”

William chuckled. “Good!
Send a runner ta fetch him! I would speak ta him on an urgent matter when I return home.”

“Aye, your majesty, twill be done.”