“He wants you home.”
Curiosity had John asking, “What has changed his mind?
A moment of silence passed before the voice said, “He is dying.”
“Good, then let the devil take his wretched soul.”
Chapter 4
John stepped out of the stable the next morning, his thoughts as cloudy as the gloomy sky. He knew it wasn’t the last he’d hear from Erland, his father’s closest confidante. It would be what happened next that made the difference in what he himself would do.
“John.”
He turned at his name being called, used to answering to the name he had assumed these past two years, and saw a man of fair height and dark hair approach with a gait of authority.
“James, Chieftain of the Clan Macardle,” James said, stopping in front of him and having to tilt his head back to look the giant of a man in the eye. “Sorrell told me how you came to her aid yesterday and I wished to thank you for helping her.”
“It was the right thing to do,” John said.
“Aye, and a good man would know that.”
Good man. He hadn’t been a good man in some time, but James Macardle didn’t need to know that.
“The shackle?” James asked with a nod toward it.
“A reminder of what lies can do to a good man.”
“I know the feeling,” James said. “How long will you be with us?”
“A day or two if that is all right, and while here I offer any help you may need.”
James was quick to take him up on his offer. “Roofs need repairing.”
“I would be pleased to help.”
“Good,” James said, delighted with the extra help. “Seek out Melvin. He’s in charge of the repairs, though I must warn you that Sorrell dictates the repairs more than Melvin. My sister has her hand in everything.” He scratched his head. “And damn if she isn’t better at it than those supposedly in charge.”
A smile caught at the corner of John’s mouth.
“You appear a good man, though the size of you can warn otherwise. Don’t give me cause to think differently,” James said and after a brief nod walked away.
He respected James for being cautious, since if it was his own clan, his warning would have been more threatening.
Eager to be busy on a solitary project, John rolled his sleeves up, found a short strip of leather in the stable and used it to tie his hair back, then he went in search of Melvin.
He walked through the village surprised to see no work being done on any of the cottages. It was past sunrise, work on the roofs should have started by now.
“Get your lazy arse out there and get to work!”
John halted, hearing Sorrell’s voice and watched as a skinny man, his short, red hair sticking out in all directions from his head, came stumbling out of a small cottage, appearing as if he’d been dragged from his bed.
“I don’t feel well. I need to rest.”
“You need to stop drinking,” Sorrell scolded. “And I care not how you feel. Your chores need doing. And where’s Dole?” She held up her hand. “Wait. Don’t tell me. He’s needs rest today too.”
“One day of rest won’t hurt,” Melvin argued.
“Do you see the sky?” Sorrell asked, pointing at it and Melvin leaned to the side to look up, and appeared about to tip over as he followed her finger. “You’re lucky if you get one roof repaired before it rains. And with how cold it’s been, it looks like winter will be upon us early. The holes in the roofs need to be repaired before then.”
“Have a heart, Sorrell, my head is pounding,” Melvin pleaded.
“I have a heart just not for you. Now get to work,” Sorrell ordered.
Melvin turned pale, gagged, and just before he spewed the contents of his stomach straight at Sorrell, John’s arm shot out, grabbed hers, and yanked her away.
Melvin gagged and spit, then turned to Sorrell. “I told you I needed to rest.”
John’s arm snaked around Sorrell’s narrow waist when she lunged at Melvin and kept tight hold of her.
Melvin wisely scurried off into his cottage, quickly closing the door behind him.
Sorrell turned angry eyes on John. “You should have let me give him what he deserved, a boot in the butt.”
“He gets what he deserves, a stomach that will continue to revolt and a head that pounds endlessly.”
“You know that from experience?” Sorrell asked and eased herself out of his arm, a slight chill rippling through her as she lost the warmth of his body.
“I’ve had my share of too much drink a time or two.”
“Melvin has had his share more than a time or two.”
“That’s obvious.”
Sorrell turned her head to look over the village. “The roof repairs will never get done.”
“I spoke with James and offered my help in return for your generosity.”
Sorrell grinned. “I thought you wanted solitude, to be alone, away from people.”