A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 21

Cara looked nervously to Calen. He was paying her no mind, looking at the shore with a grin and paddling as fast as he could.

He docked quickly, pulling the canoe onto the river bank. He scarecely had time to turn before the wood nymph threw herself into his arms, dropping the musket she carried. Her fur cap was dislodged and fell to the ground  as Calen hugged her tightly and and spun her around.

Micara climbed from the beached canoe, quite forgotten in the merriment. As she drew nearer, she got a better look at the woman who greeted Calen so exuberantly. No doubt she was one of his sisters, for the family resemblance was obvious. She was the female version of Calen. Her hair was the same jet black, falling in a braid down her back to her hips. She also had  his storm grey eyes, shining like a cloud's silver lining at seeing her brother again. She was tall for a woman, her trim figure clearly shown by her manner of dress. She was as pretty as her brother was handsome.

The embracing siblings parted, both beaming their identical smile. Calen stepped back, noticing Micara standing beside them. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the slam of a door hitting the wall as it was pushed open.

Another young woman cried Calen's name and came running down the path, flaming red curls flying behind her. She was petite, tiny and thin, looking more like a child than a grown woman, a sprightly pixie to her sisters lithe wood nymph.

She reached them quickly, and launched herself into Calen's arms. Calen lifted her easily, twirling her about in a sea of green gingham skirts. Her bright blue eyes and pale complexion bore no resemblance to Calen whatsoever. Cara would not have guessed they were siblings. Her voice was high and femenine, chattering to Calen as he set her down.

Two more people emerged from the cabin and started down the path towards them. They were and older man and woman whom Cara could only assume were Calen's parents.

Looking at the woman, Cara could see where Calen's younger sister got her looks. She was simply a younger, slightly daintier version of her mother.

Calen however had clearly gotten his masculine good looks from his father. Mr. Donelly  was tall and had the build of a hard worker. His soot black hair was sprinkled with silver near his temples and spread thinly throughout his beard. His grey eyes were darker and more intense than Calen's. If it were possible, he was even more handsome than his son.

As distracting as his features were, there was one thing on his person that was even more so. In place of breeches or trousers, he was wearing some kind of plaid skirt.

"Calen!"

Calen's mother approached at a more subdued pace than her offspring and wrapped her arms around her son. He enveloped her small frame in a bear hug, lifting her slightly off the ground. She laughed joyfully, her blue eyes twinkling.

"My boy."

Cara could see the affection Calen felt plainly on his face, his features softening. She also noticed a slight change when he turned to his father. 

"Da."

Calen offered his hand and his father accepted it. Cara could see a slight fondness there, but neither of their expressions revealed much more.

"Son."

His voice.

Cara could only hope Calen's would deepen as he aged. She blinked in shock as the thought wafted through her brain. What was she thinking?!

"And who is this?" the older man's wonderful Scottish accent probed. Calen's Da had noticed her, turning the whole family's attention onto her. Cara saw Calen flinch when his Mum pinched his arm, turning on him accusingly, "Whay'd ye not tell us to expect company?"