Chapter 15 #2
We don’t need to say anything at all, even if we could.
We fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, in blissful silence.
The next few days, we have more simplicity than the previous. No drama or trips to the city. I look into seeing if there’s any blowback from Paisley’s boyfriend’s mates, but there’s not a word. MacGowen hasn’t seen Cairstina’s brother or mother since we left, and all seems quiet.
Too quiet.
I use the time to check in on the work my men are doing, pleased to see the income filling our coffers, the lads doing their best to keep things quiet and productive. It’s an unusually quiet lull.
Islan’s been training Bailey, and she’s right good at it. I help her a few days, reminding her that I want him to be a guard dog, to be able to defend us if need be. He’s a quick study, and occasionally Cairstina and I go to him.
“Watch this,” I tell her one day, bringing bits of cooked beef with me to train him. He runs to us and licks her hand, wagging his tail in greeting. Islan comes in with a dummy doll, a pretend burglar.
“Bailey,” I say sharply. “Get him!” I snap my fingers and Bailey lunges, tearing the cardboard into bits.
Cairstina watches with wide eyes, but pats Bailey’s head approvingly. The next day, she joins Islan with the training.
The mornings, we eat breakfast alone in our cabin or up at the house. Sometimes we text to converse, but often we sit in comfortable silence.
I’m afraid we’re getting used to this. And we shouldn’t. If there’s anything I know in my life in the Clan, it's that our lives are unpredictable. We never know when the next blow is going to come.
Still, I don't like to live my life in a state of suspended animation, so I do my best to focus on the job that I have to do.
Cairstina’s witty and smart, and it comes through nearly everything she does, from the conversations we have with text or handwritten notes, to the way she interacts with my family, especially Nan. She’s becoming a part of the life here, just like my men have.
The days pass like waves lapping at the shore, always coming, always receding, each day similar to the one before.
But things are different with Cairstina here.
I wondered if I'd be eager for some alone time again, but with Cairstina it isn’t necessary.
She's quiet, and I know intuitively it isn't just because she can't speak. Silence is comfortable for her.
It’s not uncommon for me to come back from a meeting or a job to find her curled up on the sofa with a blanket, a roaring fire before her.
I never leave her alone, and my men keep a close eye.
Clyde is the one who often offers to watch her.
Though he’s young, he’s strong and intelligent, and I’d prefer not to use him for a simple bodyguard position.
He’s taken to her, though. We all have. Everyone who’s met her wants to be sure she’s alright.
Maybe it's because she's almost childlike with her inability to speak.
But there's a winsome wholesomeness about her that makes you want to be near her. As if being around someone like her can heal you from your own brokenness. So I allow Clyde to watch over her, and when I return, he’s happy for me to take his place.
About a week after Paisley was injured, I wake up to an empty bed.
Where is she?
“Cairstina?”
I don't know why I called her, because she couldn't answer me. The very thought terrifies me. What if she ever had to call out for me and she couldn't? A text wouldn't do. The thought makes my belly clench along with my fists. I have to make sure she stays safe.
I go down the ladder, dressed only in my boxers, and look wildly around the cabin for her.
She's not in the kitchen, and when I put my hand to the kettle it feels a little warm.
Did she already make herself a cup of tea?
I look in the living room, and the fire is completely gone.
But she isn't there either. I open the door to go to the porch, hoping she's there even though it's freezing cold.
But she isn't there either.
“Cairstina!”
Did she leave? Has she escaped? I don't understand why she would leave without telling me, and how she got away without me noticing. There's no way anybody came in here, so I don't think she's been taken. I call Tate.
“I can’t find Cairstina,” I say, trying to hide the choked terror in my voice. “I woke up this morning and she was gone, just bloody gone.”
“Relax, mate,” Tate says. “She’s here in the kitchen with us, eating breakfast. Jotted some things down when she got here, said you were sleeping and she didn’t want to wake you.
” He pauses and his voice goes muffled, as relief floods me.
A moment later, he’s back. “She says she left you a note, brother. Didn’t you check? ”
“Why the fuck would I look for a note?"
He chuckles, obviously not put off by my anger. “You just sound upset, Leith, is all. Now get down here for breakfast. Lachlan and his lassie have arrived, and they’re wanting to talk to you.”
“I’ll be up in a bit,” I tell him. I hang up the phone and toss it onto my sofa.
It isn't right that I get so worked up this easily. It was a simple misunderstanding; she only went up to the house for breakfast. Why do I have to jump to such funny conclusions? I look around the loft until I find it, a rolled up slip of paper that fell to the floor. I open it up and read,
Good morning, handsome. I hope you don't mind I spent a few minutes looking at you while you slept.
You're at peace more when you're sleeping than you ever are during the day, except for the occasional time when you're with me.
That's an honor, you know. I was loathe to wake you from your sleep, because you looked so restful.
I was hungry, though, and eager for another one of those books from your sisters so I went up to the house for breakfast. And honestly it may have had something to do with wanting one of those delicious scones, not gonna lie. Come and see me when you're up?
Cairstina
I smile at the little swirly heart beside her name. Who knew a wee note like this would mean so much to me? I’ll keep this one.
I tug on a pair of trousers, a flannel shirt and a tee, and my boots.
I pull on a cap as well because it’s cold outside, and head up to the house.
A large black SUV is parked in the driveway, with Ireland plates.
That’ll be Lachlan. He and his lass Fiona are married, and high-ranking members of the McCarthy Clan. Fiona’s mates with Islan.
Before I get to the house, I look everything over. Cars parked, dusted with snow. No one’s left, the only tire marks leading up to the house are Lachlan’s.
I do mental inventory. Today we need to see if there’s any blowback from Paisley’s fucking boyfriend, and we need to follow up with MacGowen.
Before I enter, I take in a deep breath from the cool, crisp air.
I need some time alone today. I miss the solitude and quiet of my blade sinking into the wood, my muscles burning, the satisfying heft of the ax in my hand.
I open the door and relish the sound of voices inside, rising and falling in jovial harmony.
“Och, aye, Lach, you bloody well know it,” Tate’s booming voice says from the kitchen. I kick the snow off my boots and enter the house. Everyone's quiet for a minute, and soon I know why.
Islan’s clear voice rises from the rest. “Now, it isn’t fair to say such things until we’ve actually done a side-by-side comparison, but I think I'm on Cairstina’s side. She has a really good point, Lachlan, don’t you think?”
I love that Cairstina’s taking part in the conversation though she can’t speak. She’s found a way, by gesture or note, and they’ve all welcomed her in as if she’s one of them.
“Not at all. I’d think—”
He stops short when I enter the room. “Ah, if it isn’t the man of the hour! Leave it to Leith to show up just when the hard work’s all done, eh?”
“Don’t you know it, Lach, I became captain for the simple task of being able to assign things to others."
My men laugh, and Lachlan stands to give me a manly embrace and slap on the back. His redheaded wife Fiona’s eyes twinkle at me as she stands and kisses my cheek in greeting.
During our hardest times, when we lost my oldest brother, the McCarthy family were our greatest allies. Keenan even sent some of his men, and they helped us do the jobs that we had to. The McCarthy clan matriarch came and visited my mum, and we won’t forget what good friends they were.
“Fiona was just saying she's never seen snow like this, and how she’d love to bring our son in his little snowsuit,” Lach says, sitting back at the large kitchen table.
“He’s with his nanny now, but wouldn’t that be such great fun?”
Cairstina’s eyes twinkle, and she waves her fingers at me. I wave back and sit beside her. I take her hand in mine and give her a little squeeze.
“Couldn’t find you when I woke,” I say in her ear. “Didn’t see the note until Tate told me about it.”
Her eyes grow troubled and she shakes her head, then takes out her mobile and sends me a quick text.
I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to wake you.
I nod. I’ve already forgiven it; it was an honest mistake.
“Next time, doll. Wake me.”
She nods and the conversation picks up. Mum sits at the table with Nan, and they ask about the children, Maeve, and how things are getting on in Ballyhock.
“Things are smashing good,” Lach says. “Keenan’s had to put another addition on the house, we’re fairly bursting at the seams, but few of us want to leave.
Since Nolan and Sheena moved out, though, Fiona and I moved into their place.
It’s within walking distance of the main house, but we like the privacy. ”
“Aye,” Fiona says. “Agreed.”
“Aw, why didn’t you bring the wee bairn?” Nan asks. “I’d have loved to see ‘im.”
“He’s with his nanny for the day, but we’ll bring him in the summer?” Fiona says with a smile. “We were afraid the trip would take too long. He’s rubbish in the car.”