Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“Me Laird, there’s word from Glenkirk.”
Noah didn’t lift his eyes from the map spread across his desk, his finger tracing the radius he’d already searched twice.
Three days. Three days of riding from village to village, showing Esther’s description to anyone who’d listen, but coming up empty.
“What word?” His voice was rough from exhaustion and lack of sleep.
Elliot moved closer, and something in his tone caused Noah’s head to snap up. “The orphanage there. The one attached to St. Bride’s Church. Apparently, they took in a girl a few days ago—small, dark-haired, about eight years old—”
Noah was already moving. “How far?”
“Two villages east of where she went missin’. It’s about an hour’s ride if ye push hard.”
“Ready, Shadow.” Noah grabbed his riding gloves from the desk. “Now.”
“Me Laird, wait—” Elliot caught his arm. “It might nae be her. It could be any lost child.”
“Then I’ll apologize for the disturbance and keep searchin’.” Noah pulled free, his jaw set. “But if there’s even a chance it’s Esther, I’m nae wastin’ another minute.”
Ten minutes later, he was racing down the road toward Glenkirk, his heart pounding in rhythm with Shadow’s hooves.
The village appeared on the horizon just as the afternoon sun was starting to set. Noah didn’t slow down as he entered the narrow streets, scaring a flock of geese and causing several villagers to press against buildings to stay out of his way.
The church was easy to spot: a modest stone building with a wooden structure attached, which had to be the orphanage. Noah dismounted before Shadow had come to a complete stop, his boots hitting the ground hard as he headed toward the entrance.
He didn’t knock.
The door slammed open under his hand with a loud bang that echoed through what looked like a small kitchen. An elderly woman gasped and dropped the spoon she was holding. But Noah’s focus was on the young woman sitting at the table.
And the small, familiar figure hiding behind her chair.
“Esther.” Relief and fury warred in his chest.
His niece’s face turned white, her eyes wide and terrified, as she pressed herself against the chair to hide in it.
The young woman—dark blonde hair falling from a braid, wearing a simple dress, with eyes the color of summer grass—shot to her feet, positioning herself between Noah and Esther with such a quick, protective movement that it caught him off guard.
“Who the hell are ye?” she demanded, her voice sharp as broken glass. But Noah could see that little moment of fear in her eyes before she pushed it aside. “And why are ye bargin’ into this orphanage like ye own the place?”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to being questioned, especially not by common village lasses who didn’t know better than to get out of his way.
“I’m Noah MacGregor, Laird of this clan.” His voice carried the weight of absolute authority. “And that lass behind ye is me, niece. So I suggest ye step aside.”
The woman didn’t move. If anything, she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Well, I’m Ava and I daenae care if ye’re the King of Scotland himself. That lass is terrified, and I’m nae lettin’ ye near her until I ken ye’re nae goin’ to hurt her.”
Is she serious?
“She’s me niece,” Noah repeated, taking a step forward. The elderly woman—Mrs. Whatever-her-name-was—actually backed up. But this Ava woman held her ground. “I’ve been searchin’ for her for three days. Now step aside before I make ye.”
“Searchin’ for three days, yet she’s been here that long and no one thought to check the local orphanages until now?” Ava’s eyes flashed with accusation. “Some guardian ye are!”
Noah’s jaw clenched so tightly that he could hear his teeth grinding. “I checked every orphanage within a day’s ride. This one was too far for a wee lass to reach on her own, or so I thought.”
“Well, she reached it just fine, didnae she?” Ava crossed her arms. “Found her wanderin’ outside, half-starved and scared out of her mind. Took me nearly an hour just to get her to come inside.”
Behind her, Esther let out a small sound, almost a whimper, and Ava’s whole demeanor softened as she looked back.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m nae goin’ to let anyone hurt ye.”
Ava felt Esther’s small body trembling against her legs, felt the desperate grip of tiny fingers clutching her skirt.
She knew that fear. Had lived it.
The bone-deep fear that the adults would hurt you, that speaking would make it worse, and that the only safety was in silence and invisibility.
Her hand automatically moved to rest on Esther’s head, a protective gesture she had once desperately needed but never got.
I see ye, wee one. I understand.
Then she turned that sharp gaze back to Noah. “Now, I daenae ken what kind of household ye run, but any place that loses track of a bairn for three days and lets her end up this far from home—”
“Enough.” Noah’s voice cracked like a whip, making everyone in the room jump. Everyone except Ava, who just glared at him harder. “I daenae have time for this. Esther, come here. Now.”
“She willnae,” Ava said flatly. “Look at her, she’s terrified of ye.”
“She’s nae—” Noah forced himself to take a breath. To think. Esther was terrified, pressed against that chair like he was some kind of monster come to drag her away. “Esther, lass, it’s me. Yer uncle. I’ve been lookin’ for ye everywhere.”
Esther’s eyes darted between him and Ava, her small hands gripping the back of the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“Ye need to leave,” Ava said, her voice gentler now but no less firm. “Ye’re frightenin’ her. Come back tomorrow when she’s had time to calm down.”
“I’m nae leavin’ without me, niece.” Noah took another step forward, and Ava moved to block him more fully. “Get out of me way, lass. I’m warnin’ ye.”
“Or what? Ye’ll throw me in yer dungeons?” she said mockingly, as if the very idea was absurd.
Noah’s eyes darkened as he slowly closed the gap between them, deliberately moving at a measured pace until he was close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.
He was a full head taller, broader by half, and he used every inch of it. “I daenae ken about dungeons,” he said, his voice dropping low, intimate despite the threat. “But I could pick ye up and move ye meself if ye keep interferin’. Quite easily, in fact.”
Ava’s breath caught audibly, her eyes widening. “Ye wouldnae dare!”
“Wouldnae I?”
Noah let his gaze drop deliberately to where she barely came up to his shoulder, then back to her face. Close enough now that he could see the pulse hammering at her throat, could smell whatever soap she used—something clean and simple.
“Ye’re a wee thing, lass. I’ve moved hay bales heavier than ye.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, whether from outrage or something else, he couldn’t tell.
“That’s… Ye cannae just—”
“Try me,” Noah said softly, and watched her pupils dilate.
For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, the air between them charged with something that had nothing to do with Esther and everything to do with the way Ava’s breath had gone shallow, and how neither of them was backing down.
Then, from behind Ava, came a small, trembling voice.
“D-daenae.”
Noah’s eyes flicked past Ava to where Esther stood, no longer hiding behind the chair but gripping its back with both hands. Her face was still pale, her eyes still frightened, but her jaw was clenched with determination that looked far too familiar.
“What did ye say, lass?” he asked, his voice unconsciously softening.
“D-daenae hurt her.” Esther’s words came out in a stutter, hesitant, as if each one cost her something. But she said them anyway. “P-please, Uncle Noah. D-daenae hurt Ava.”
“I’m nae goin’ to hurt anyone, Esther.”
The change in his voice was instant. The sharpness that had been there moments before softened into something gentler.
Ava’s eyes snapped to his face, startled. She watched as the harsh lines around his mouth eased, as his broad shoulders lost some of their rigid tension.
He kept his gaze fixed on his niece, but Ava could see it now, the careful way he held himself, like he was afraid one wrong move would shatter the fragile moment.
This was a man who cared. Deeply.
The realization struck her harder than she expected.
“I just want to take ye home.”
“I…” Esther’s voice cracked. “I want Ava t-to come.”
“What?”
“If...” She swallowed hard, her small throat working. “If I g-go, I want Ava to come, t-too.”
Noah looked from his niece to the woman who’d been watching over her. Ava appeared just as surprised, her mouth slightly parted.
“Sweetheart...” Ava said gently, turning to crouch beside Esther. “I cannae just leave the orphanage. The children here need me.”
“P-please.” Esther’s eyes filled with tears. “Daenae... daenae l-leave me.”
And there it was. The fear Noah had been dreading. The fear he’d seen two years ago when William had abandoned her. The absolute terror of being left behind again.
He looked at Ava, really looked at her for the first time.
She wasn’t beautiful, exactly—her features were too sharp, and her frame was too thin, likely from skipping meals to feed others. But there was something about her that touched Esther in a way even he hadn’t managed in two years.
His niece had spoken up to protect this woman.
“What’s yer name again?” Noah asked, his voice rough.
“Ava.” She stood slowly, her hand resting protectively on Esther’s shoulder. “Ava Harris.”
“Well, Miss Harris.” Noah crossed his arms, his mind already calculating. “It seems me niece has grown attached to ye.”
“I’ve been carin’ for her for since I found her. Of course she has.”
“So ye’ll come with us.”
Ava blinked. “I... What?”
“Ye heard me.” Noah gestured to Esther, who was watching them both with desperate hope in her eyes. “She wants ye to come. And I’m nae about to traumatize her further by refusin’. So ye’ll pack whatever ye need and come to Castle MacGregor as her minder.”
“Her minder?” Ava’s voice rose an octave. “I’m nae some servant ye can just order about! I have a life here, responsibilities.”
“Which I’ll compensate ye for.” Noah cut her off. “Name yer price.”
“I daenae have a price! I’m nae for sale!”
“Everyone has a price, lass.” He stepped closer again, but this time there was no threat in it, just cold calculation. “And ye’ll come, because if ye daenae, that wee lass behind ye will never forgive ye for abandonin’ her. Just like everyone else in her life has done.”
He paused, and something changed in his expression. Not softer, exactly, but more deliberate, like he’d decided she deserved the full picture.
“The last person responsible for her care lost track of her at a market. An eight-year-old girl, in a crowd, and when they couldnae find her after an hour, Miss Harris, they gave up and rode back to the castle to report it. Left two people searching and came home.” His jaw tightened.
“I need someone who willnae do that. Someone who actually gives a damn whether she’s found. ”
He let that sit between them for a moment.
“Esther's come a long way in two years. She’s finally started speaking more than just single words.
She has finally stopped flinching when he enters a room.
She has finally begun to believe that she has a home.
But she's never once spoken up for another person.
Not like that. And she used that voice to ask me nae to hurt ye. "
His eyes held hers, steady and unsparing. “So aye. I’m askin’ ye to come. And I’m askin’ ye because she chose ye, and that’s nae somethin’ I’m willin’ to ignore.”
His eyes held hers, steady and unsparing. “So aye. I’m askin’ ye to come. And I’m askin’ ye because she chose ye, and that’s nae somethin’ I’m willin’ to ignore.”
It was a low blow. Noah knew it. But he also knew it would work.
Ava’s face went through several expressions—anger, frustration, guilt, and finally, resignation. She closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders sagging.
“Ye’re a bastard, ye ken that?”
“Aye.” Noah moved closer to her, slowly. He looked her in the eyes, and he didn’t even have the grace to look apologetic. “But I’m a bastard who keeps his word. Come with us, and ye’ll have whatever ye need to continue helpin’ yer orphanage. Refuse, and ye’ll break that bairn’s heart.”
When Ava opened her eyes, they were blazing with fury. But behind it, Noah saw acceptance.
She’d come.
Because, unlike him, she actually had a heart.