Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)

Four

"What's troubling ye, Willy?"

Da didn't look at him as they worked, checking the crop of potatoes that had yet to emerge from the soil they'd been stuck in. Hopefully, if recent days were to be trusted, the frost was over and they wouldn't have to worry about the food dying out in the freezing cold when the sprouts did appear.

Crossing his arms, Will gave a non-committed grunt as a reply, his brow furrowed and mouth turned down. Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze seemed to travel up the mountain, his thoughts lost in whatever current he'd let them loose in. Then, he refocused, sighing, his stance relaxing. Scratching his thigh through the fabric of his kilt, he shook his head, moving to examine the row closest to him.

"Ye've been tormented since ye returned from the Irishwoman's hut, boy. Did she curse ye, or did Arth simply drop ye on yer head?" Grinning ruefully, Da chuckled, straightening and brushing his hands off on his shirt. "Tell me, lad. Yer mother's been worried sick since ye came home three days ago and I canna stand the sound of her any longer. What's troublin' ye?"

The joke did its job; Will laughed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I dinna ken if it's my place to say something on the matter, but I have been troubled since I returned."

Motioning for Will to follow, Da headed out of the rows, making a line for the stand of trees nearby. Settling down beneath the branches, he opened his sporran, pulling out a few pieces of cheese and smoked fish. "Here," he said, offering Will half. "Tell me."

"It doesn't seem right, leaving her up there alone." Staring at the food in his hands, Will pursed his lips, as if choosing his words carefully. "Even if the Campbells hadn't attacked her—which, I'm not saying she canna defend herself, she most certainly can—she's living in a ruin, Da. Half the house is crumbled. I think she was working on a small garden, but the lass isn't going to be able to grow enough food to last, especially when winter comes again. She'll freeze to death, even if she has enough meat to feed an army."

Nodding, Da slowly chewed on his bite of fish, thinking. After swallowing, he looked over at his son, raising an eyebrow. "What do ye propose be done about it? The woman says she dinna want our help. Would you force her to accept it?"

"Coax her, more like. She's scared, Da. She doesn't want anyone up there, asking her questions." Breaking off a small piece of cheese, Will popped it in his mouth, savoring the taste, and fell silent.

"She told ye was scared?"

Shaking his head, Will swallowed and cleared his throat. "No. There was a feeling about her, though. Ye ken? Something in the way she held herself as I tried to talk with her, and what she said when I joked about the honey being poisoned. 'It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to get rid of me.' Any person who says something like that is hiding from something." Pausing for a moment, Will thought over his conversation with the stranger again. "I only want to do the right thing, Da. Ignoring another person in need isn't something I ever pictured myself doing."

Da remained silent, looking over the field, watching the other tenants of their tiny homestead working in their own plots. The air was almost peaceful, the warmth of the sun causing sweat to form on the back of Will's neck. Spring was coming in quickly, bringing with it all the new changes and life that it always did.

Breaking the lull that had formed between them, Da rose, grabbing Will by the hand and hauling him to his feet as well. Their eyes met, an accepting expression on Da's face. "I suppose, if ye feel that strongly about it, ye should probably get up there and coax her, then."

Surprised, Will felt himself at a loss for words, having not expected Da to so easily agree with him. "But, what about the planting? The ceilidh?"