My Highland Home

MHH Chapter 34

Time seemed to yawn cold and grey for Colin since his return from the McDowell keep. The images of what he'd seen there haunted him even while he was awake. To know that that disgusting pit is where she spent her last days, surrounded by those vile people made the guilt burn in his gut. He'd been a fool to think that McDowell wouldn't kill her when he didn't pay the ransom. Why did he think that the man's heartlessness would recognize the bonds of family and blood? Another wave of guilt rolled through him. His icy gaze roved from the face of one member of his clan to the next. They were all gathered in his warm hall, boisterous and merry with a full belly. Would they be so if he'd paid the ransom? Did he do the right thing, putting his clan before his wife?

A bitter taste entered the back of his throat. Lifting his cup of ale, he swallowed the last of it and waved a hand at one of the kitchen women. He wasn't certain when he'd decided that he'd try to drink it all away, perhaps it'd been during his breakneck ride home, or perhaps when his clan had celebrated the death of their most hated enemy or maybe it'd been when he'd had to tell Jinty that her mummy wasn't coming home, ever.

Feeling his breath lodge in his throat and his heart throb painfully just at the thought, he poured more ale past his lips. He'd tried to rationalize that he'd done what had been best for the clan, despite the fact that he'd wanted to be selfish, but now as he had to gaze at their happy faces; it was all he could do not to order them out. Raising his cup to his lips again, he frowned when he found that it was dry. Raising a hand to again signal that his cup was empty, he waited for the serving woman to return. Barring her from refilling his cup with more ale by placing a restraining hand on her arm, he shook his head.

"I want whiskey."

The woman's eyes widened, likely due to the time of day, but Colin couldn't dredge up any shame. His wife was dead, they were warm and alive. If they didn't like that he was drinking whiskey in the early afternoon, they were all free to sod off. He released his grip on her arm and was about to turn back to his hall and continue his bitter, brooding when a bowl of food was smashed down on the top of his head. Colin's mood was already foul, so this newest assault from Tavis to get him to eat something was unwelcome. He wanted a fight so bad that his blood was near to boiling. Swiping a hand carelessly across his face, knocking the bowl away and the food from his face, he shoved his chair back angrily and made to stand.

Two small hands shoved at his chest and he was momentarily baffled, expecting to find Tavis hovering angrily over him. The woman at his side was covered from head to toe in a lumpy, moth eaten plaid and struggling to unwind it. He flinched as she bent down toward him, hissing angrily in a familiar tone. Colin's brows drew together; he knew that voice, didn't he? She gave one last vicious jerk on the fabric of her plaid and Colin felt every muscle in his body freeze.

Surely this had to be a drunken hallucination! Standing before him was a wane, battered and bloodied Kenzie. Her name rolled around on his tongue, but he couldn't spit it out. Instead he sat frozen in his seat, staring at her. A ghost, that's what this was! Her outraged ghost was haunting him. His gaze darted toward the people collected in the hall, going about their routines as though nothing untoward was going on. His lips tightened, his teeth clenching as he fought to keep from begging the spectre to forgive him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, he thought and his eyes closed.

The nearly colourless orbs flew open as her hand slapped the table in front of him. He nearly choked as his eyes fell upon the delicate silver band that sat like a glowing beacon on the table before him. The alcohol had to be addling his brain. When the husky strains of her voice broke the sudden silence of the hall, he didn't know what to think. She was dead. They had all been dead, his men had burned everything. She wasn't really here, one by one the heads of his clansmen turned and stared, was she?