Chapter 19
19
Ian tossed and turned against his pillow, his sleep interrupted by someone ringing the bells at the top of the keep. Cracking an eye open, he wanted to pull out his sword and run the Scot through for thinking it was a wise decision in the middle of the night.
But it was only a scant second before Ian smelled smoke and that got him out of the warm bed and reaching for his tunic and breeks. The bells were used for all sorts of warning for the village townspeople, from raids to fires and if there was truly a fire in this crowded village, it could be disastrous.
Ian grabbed a short dagger and shoved it in his boot before he threw his door open and raced down the two flights of stairs to the great hall, where he was joined by others. “Wot is happening?” Remy asked, sleep still evident on his face as he found Ian.
“I smelled smoke,” Ian said tightly, moving with the rest of the people in the great hall toward the heavy doors.
Remy swore under his breath, but Ian was already stepping outside into the cold night air. Whatever was on fire, the MacGregors were going to need the extra hands to help.
When he looked up, ice slid through his veins.
The stables were on fire.
“Ian!” Remy called out but Ian was already moving toward the stables, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Are they out?” he shouted to the nearest Scot, who was grabbing the buckets from the village square, filling them with water from the elaborate fountain.
The Scot just looked at him and Ian moved on, running as fast as he could toward the burning building before someone grabbed his arm.
It was Remy. “Ye canna go in there!” Remy shouted over the confusion and shouts being done by the Scots around them. “Ian.”
“I’m not going tae let harm come tae her,” Ian fought back, shaking off Remy’s strong gasp. Ida was very important to him and despite her turning him down on his proposal of marriage, he was going to fight for her.
He was going to show her that he could be the husband she deserved.
Before Remy could grab his arm again, Ian rushed to the cottage and kicked open the door. “Ida!” he shouted, trying to see through the heavy smoke that had infiltrated the area. “Ida!”
No response. What if she had gotten out already and no one had seen her? She was a smart lass.
Still, the panic didn’t ease in his chest and after a quick sweep of the cottage, he stepped out. More Scots were joining in the effort to put out the fire, forming long lines where buckets of water were being handed off to extinguish what flames they could reach.
“Ida!” he shouted once more, coughing as he choked on the smoke. He had to find her.
He heard a noise near the stable before a horse burst through the open doorway, pawing and neighing as it raced away from the fire.
There could only be one reason that horse had broken out and Ian knew in his heart that the brave lass that had entrapped his heart was in there.
Without thinking, he bolted toward the doorway of the stable, feeling the wall of heat blast him as he tried to enter the burning structure. The smoke was even thicker there and Ian coughed, knowing he didn’t have long to find her.
Each stall was empty and his heart lurched in his chest. She had saved the animals. He wasn’t surprised given how much she tended to them but he was going to give her an earful for putting herself in danger.
Nearing the last stall, Ian had to duck low to be able to see anything at all. If she wasn’t in here, then she had gotten out. He had to cling to that hope.
When Ian saw the glimpse of white on the ground just inside the stall, he knew he had found her. “Ida!” he shouted, kneeling beside her. She was barely breathing, her arm stretched out and when Ian followed it with his eyes, he saw her uncle nearby, rolled on his side.
Ian had to make a decision, and quickly. Scooping her up in his arms, he raced toward the door, holding her against his chest tightly to keep the flames from touching her. Ian felt the flames dance over his arm and he hissed but didn’t let go of Ida until they were outside in the cold air.
“Ian!” his brother Stephan called out, racing toward him with concern written all over his face. “Dear God, wot are ye doing?”
Ian ignored him and found a spot away from the chaos to lay her down. “Ida,” he croaked, his voice rusty from the smoke he had inhaled. Placing his hands on her cheeks, he tried to put some warmth into her cheeks. “Ida, lass, can ye hear mah?”
She coughed and his lungs expanded, helping her to sit up as her body rattled with the movement. “That’s it. Cough it up.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around frantically. “Mah uncle.”
He was still in the stable. Ian swallowed as he glanced back at the burning building and she gripped the front of his tunic tightly, forcing him to look at her. “Ye have tae save him!” she croaked. “Please, Ian!”
“Nay,” Stephan was saying as Ian gently pried her fists from his tunic and rose to his feet. “Ye canna Ian. Ye canna go back in there!”
He had to. His jaw tight, he glanced down at the woman who meant more to him than his own life. “Ye will be fine. Mah brother will care for ye.”
Ian didn’t give her a chance to stop him before he was racing back to the stable, the water barely making any headway in the fanning flames. “Nay!” someone called out, attempting to grab Ian’s arm. “The entire place is going to collapse at any moment!”
“There’s still a man inside!” he shouted back, ducking to avoid the flames that licked up the doorway of the stables now. A wall started to buckle in the distance but Ian ignored it, moving low to the ground as he made his way to that final stall where he had last seen her uncle.
He was still where Ian had last seen him, curled in a fetal position as if he had already accepted his fate. With a roar that came from within, Ian lifted the man over his shoulder and started back out of the stables, the wall behind him crashing with a thunderous sound. The structure was coming down around his ears and if he didn’t hurry, they would be trapped under the burning rubble.
His vision started to waver as Ian inhaled more of the smoke, the added weight of the man on his shoulder slowing him down. He could feel the effect of the smoke, his body feeling as if he was moving through water instead of his usual speed.
Time was running out.
Ian reached the doorway as his chest heaved and he was forced to his knees, coughing hard and blinking to keep from losing consciousness.
“They are over here!”
Ian barely registered the words as the blackness started to creep in and he lost his grip on uncle, the man sliding sideways off his shoulders.
Or was he sliding sideways? It was difficult to tell but regardless, they were in some trouble.
There was a low rumble above his head and Ian couldn’t find any strength to move out of the way as the rest of the stable started to crash around him and he closed his eyes, slipping into oblivion and he felt no more.
Ian woke with a start, blinking away the last bit of darkness as he took a look around. He was no longer in the doorway of the stables but in a field outside of the Wallace keep, the sunshine beating down on his body. Gone were the aches and pains he dealt with every day, a sense of peace filling his chest unlike he had ever known.
“Ian.”
Turning, Ian saw that his da was walking toward him, wearing his tartan draped over one shoulder and a grin on his face. “Da?”
The elder laird nodded, gripping the walking stick in his hand as he paused in his steps. “I dinna expect tae see ye so soon.”
Ian looked around. “Where are we?” It didn’t feel like anything he had ever experienced before.
“We are where things donna exist,” his da explained with a shrug. “Tis peaceful here, isna it?”
“Are ye here by yerself?” he asked, confused.
His da shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. “Nay there are others here. Ye just canna see them. I am the only one that has chosen tae show mahself tae ye.”
Ian breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m dead then.”
His da cocked his head to the side, regarding him. “Is that wot ye think? Do ye feel dead?”
“I donna feel like mahself,” Ian admitted, looking down at his unblemished hands. All his scars were gone, an odd feeling given how many years he had been living with them. When he looked up at his da, he realized that his da’s face was familiar yet it was unlined as he remembered. “I am dead.”
His da chuckled. “Nay son ye are in the in-between right now, a fragile spot between life and death. Yer mortal body isna gone yet.”
Ian thought about the last look he had given Ida before he had raced back into the burning stable. He thought of his siblings, Remy, his clan. What were they doing right now? Were they trying to wake him?
“Tis going tae be yer decision mah son,” his da said gently. “If ye wish tae go into the afterlife, I will escort ye but if there are reasons ye want tae stay.”
“There are,” Ian admitted, thinking of all the ones he cared about. He didn’t want to leave his life. There was so much left that he wished to do, one being building a life with Ida. He wanted to do what was right for his clan, to show them that there could be peace with their enemies.
His da drew in a breath, not at all surprised by Ian’s answer. “Well then, ye must go back.”
Ian looked at his dad, drinking up the sight of him. “I miss ye,” he croaked out. “I’m not close tae being the laird that ye were.”
“Ye shouldn’t be,” his da replied, a sad smile on his face. “Ye have tae be the laird that ye were meant tae be, Ian. I lived mah life. I did wot I thought needed tae be done for the sake of our people. Now tis time for ye tae do the same.”
He was right. Ian didn’t have to be his da as a ruler. They had lived in different times, each with their own idea of what was best for the clan. Ian knew in his heart that peace was the right answer for the future.
He just had to get them there. “Thank ye da.”
“Yer welcome son,” his da replied, winking at him. “Ye are doing a fine job son. I hope that ye know how proud I am of ye and wot ye are going tae do for the future.” He then straightened his shoulders, looking every inch the powerful laird that he had once been and would always be in Ian’s heart. “Now close yer eyes.”