Chapter Eight #3
She couldn’t speak of her mother, not without breaking down, and she had vowed long ago to be strong. She took a deep breath and blurted. “I am lost.”
He rested his hand on her bowed head. “Then mayhap, it is time to go home.”
Her heart sank further still as images of Toonan flashed in her mind’s eye. A bitter taste filled her mouth. “I don’t have a home.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded, still not looking up.
“What is your name, child?”
She met his gaze for the first time. “Jo,” she answered.
His eyes flashed wide for a moment.
Startled by the sudden surprise she glimpsed in his gaze, she stepped back.
“Do not be afraid,” he soothed, reaching out his hand to her. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It is just...your eyes...they are most unusual.”
The bishop’s comment did not surprise her. She was used to people remarking on her eyes. “I have my father’s eyes.”
“Was your father a weaver?”
“My father was a great many things, but it was my mother who taught me the art of weaving.”
“Jo, how old are you?”
“I am ten and seven.”
“Remarkable,” he muttered. “Tell me, Jo, where is your father now?”
She swallowed hard. “I have every reason to believe he’s dead.”
“And your mother?”
She pressed her hand to her mouth and turned away.
“What is it, my child? Is she ill? Is that why you’ve come to the cathedral, to pray for her health at Saint Cuthbert’s tomb?”
She shook her head. “’Tis too late for that. I came to pray for her soul.”
To her surprise, tears flooded the bishop’s eyes. “I am so sorry for your loss, my child. Tell me, were you with her?”
“Yes.” Jo closed her eyes. “She lost consciousness in the end and died peacefully”.
“I am glad to know she did not suffer.”
Jo nodded.
A sad smile curved his lips as he considered her. At length, he asked, “Who will you turn to now? Where will you go?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I do not know.”
He drew closer, his faded blue eyes filled with concern. “Then, you are, in fact, truly alone.”
“I...I have my dog Ruby.”
His face brightened. “Your Ruby, is she brave?”
She nodded.
“Fierce?”
“Terrifying.”
“Then she will protect you?”
“That I do not doubt.”
He took her hand and led her to a stone bench. “Sit with me and tell me something.”
“Yes, Bishop?”
“Do you trust me?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Is it a sin to admit that I do not know?”
“No, it just means you’re careful, which, in my mind, is one of the greatest virtues. God did not give you life to be reckless with it.”
A slight smile curved her lips. “When I used to play chess with my father, he would always tell me to be bold but never reckless.”
“Your father was a wise man.”
“Indeed, he was,” she agreed softly.
The bishop cleared his throat. “Now, what I have in mind requires courage and would, indeed, be a bold decision.”
“I’ve learned courage,” she said quietly, remembering the silly, carefree girl she’d once been.
He took her hand, looking fervently into her eyes. “Then go to the Highlands to Haddington Abbey.”
Her eyes widened. “But that is so far.”
“Yes, but you’re a fighter, of this I’m certain. You’ll manage, and when you arrive, ask for Abbot Matthew. Tell him that I sent you.”
“I don’t understand. What will the Abbot do for me?”
“The good abbot has found many orphans a home.”
“At ten and seven, I hardly think anyone will open their home to me as they would a child.”
“The abbot may not find you a family, but he will find you a home and a purpose.”
“A purpose?”
He squeezed her hand. “As long as you have purpose, you can never be truly lost.”
She sat straighter, his words filling her with hope.
“Now, a woman traveling on her own will draw attention—that is the one aspect of my plan which teeters on the bounds of recklessness. But you do have your Ruby. So, if you decide, in the end, that you do trust me and you boldly take a leap of faith and head north, keep off the roads and stick to the woods. Avoid all villages and towns.”
“But what if the abbot doesn’t believe me when I tell him you sent me?”
“All the abbot need do is look into your eyes to know you speak the truth.” He cupped her cheek. “You’ve grit, my child, which is a gift from God that no man can take away. Be determined, and never give up.”
The bishop’s words, mirrored those of her mother, filling her heart with even greater hope. “Thank you, Bishop!” She dropped to her knees and kissed his ring. “Thank you with my whole heart.”
She rose. “Forgive me, but if I’m to even consider traveling north, I must go. I have a lot of work to do.”
He chuckled. “Still, you ask for my forgiveness when I can see the goodness in your heart reflected in your eyes. There is naught for me to forgive. Go with my blessings.” He stood and placed his hand softly on her head. “May the Lord keep you and watch over you.”
Dipping in a low curtsy, Jo spun on her heels and hastened across the courtyard.
Determination imbued her stride. The bishop was right.
She did have grit, and she was not going to give up without a fight.
Her pride be damned. She needed coin, and if she hurried, she could make it to Lorna’s tavern before it got too busy.