Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Lachann did not seem to hear Sorcha’s incredibly embarrassing words, for his attention was wholly directed on something behind Anna.
“Gesu, the distillery is on fire!” he rasped.
Anna turned to look back and saw black smoke rising from ... “ ’Tis not the distillery, Lachann,” she said, just before he mounted his horse and took off at a gallop. “ ’Tis the granary!”
The bell at the kirk began to clang just as Lachann turned and raced down the lane.
“Màili, take Sorcha inside,” Anna said. “Then we need to get everyone to the granary with their buckets.”
She shouted the alarm as she ran, and people hurried out of the shops and cottages, prepared to fight the fire. By the time Anna arrived at the granary, Lachann was there with Geordie Kincaid and the other men from the distillery, who were already trying to douse the fire with pails of water from the river.
But the back wall of the building was nearly engulfed in flames.
Lachann climbed a stout oak that stood behind the granary. A group of men gathered to form a line from the river to the granary, handing buckets of water, one after the other, to Lachann, who tossed it on the flames. Another man brought out a ladder and stood at its top on the far side of the granary, doing the same thing.
Anna organized the village women into yet another brigade to fill the buckets and quickly pass them down a line of hands that got the water to Lachann and the others who were closest to the fire.
The smell was horrific, and the work was backbreaking as well as desperate. They could not allow the fire to spread outward, else several shops and homes would be destroyed, as well as the distillery itself. Losing the granary was going to be bad enough.
Anna hastened ’round to Lachann’s position and saw how perilous it was. He was far too close to the fire! His face and arms were filthy, and he was covered in sweat. Burning ash flew about his head, and Anna worried one of the embers would land in the brush nearby and start another fire that could easily engulf him.
Men handed buckets to him, one after the other, and he tossed the water at the fire as quickly as he could. But the flames spread and licked up toward him.
Panic engulfed Anna, much like the flames that were so very likely to overcome Lachann. She shouted at him to come down, but he kept at his task.
Anna interrupted the flow of buckets, taking one to throw its contents on the ground ’round Lachann, wetting it to prevent a spark from catching beneath him.
Men from the castle soon arrived and threw their backs into the fight, some carrying water, others climbing to high points behind the granary.
“We must pull down the walls before it spreads!” Lachann shouted to the men.
“Aye!” they responded, though they continued pouring water on the fire.
Finally, Lachann climbed down from his perch and disappeared into the distillery with Geordie. When they returned a few moments later, they carried several long poles with hooks attached to their ends.
“Clear the field!” Lachann shouted, distributing the poles to several of the men.
Anna and the others with buckets scurried away and watched as Lachann and his men stepped as close as they could, hooking the ends of the poles into any crack or crevice in the fiery wall.
On Lachann’s count, they started pulling down the burning building. After much straining, it came crashing down, crumbling into embers while the other three walls fell into it.
The fire ebbed, but the work was not done.
People continued throwing water on the collapsed building, and the men all pitched in to dig a trench ’round it. Hours after Lachann first saw the smoke, the granary was reduced to a mere stinking, smoldering mess. But at least it posed no threat to anything else on the isle.
The tavern keeper brought out a few benches and a barrel of ale, which he poured liberally into the mugs of everyone who’d helped with the fire. Lachann drank deeply, looking ’round the crowd for Anna.
He was sure he’d just seen her.
Mayhap she’d gone back to the castle. Or to her friend’s cottage.
“Kincaid,” he said, catching sight of the distiller. “Walk with me. Duncan and Kieran, come with us.”
They stepped over the rubble left by the disaster and soon came upon the pile of wood and stone that was left of the granary. “Do you know how the fire started, Kincaid?”
The man shook his head. “I can’na think how, MacMillan. The weather has been fair damp most days, not a dry timber anywhere on the isle.”
Which was exactly what Lachann thought. They’d had a few rays of sun that afternoon, but the days had been misty in the morn, and there had been some rain as well. “Kieran, did you see the blacksmith return to the castle after he changed the locks?”
Kieran nodded. “He went back a long time ago. Hours.” He glanced at Kincaid, who nodded. “Lachann, do you think the fire was started intentionally?”
Lachann gave a nod. “Unless ’twas an accident of some sort.”
“What sort?” Kincaid asked, his forbearance obviously wearing thin. He paced back and forth next to the destroyed building. “What kind of accident would it be? No one has any business hanging about the granary. No one would be lighting a pipe back there ...” He shook his head, obviously unable to figure how the fire might have begun.
“Aye. That’s what I thought, but I wanted to make sure you agreed.” Cullen Macauley had to believe his chances of gaining the lairdship of Kilgorra were slim if he was trying to interfere with Lachann’s plans to build a fighting force here.
Macauley’s strategy might be to mount an attack and try to take the isle by force, for what better way was there to ensure success than by keeping Kilgorra preoccupied with rebuilding the granary and therefore leaving itself undefended?
“But I can’na think of any purpose to burning down the granary,” Kincaid said. “The harvest does not take place for at least two more weeks. If someone wanted to harm the whiskey business ... well, there was very little barley inside, and we do’na store our barrels there.”
“Lachann,” Duncan said, “I did not see Macauley in any of the brigades.”
“Nor did I,” Kieran said. “And the man knows naught about distilling. He likely did’na know the granary was empty.”
Lachann met Kincaid’s eyes and knew the man shared his own suspicions about Macauley. “I’ll go up to the castle and see if I can find him.”
“You’ll question him?”
Lachann gave a nod. “And I’ll find out if anyone saw Ramsay in his shop.”
“Do you want us to come along?” Duncan asked.
“No, I’ll handle this alone.”
Anna had never been so terrified. When Lachann had perched so precariously in the tree behind the granary, she’d realized she might lose him to the fire.
’Twould be far worse than losing him to Catrìona.
Ach, she felt torn in every direction as she made her way back to the castle.
It had been a horrid afternoon—a horrid day all ’round, Anna thought as tears filled her eyes. It had become clear that there was no solution to her predicament. She did not know how she was going to get away from Kilgorra, and Lachann was not about to leave.
No, after seeing him fighting the fire, she realized how firmly dedicated he was to becoming laird.
She trudged up the path to the castle and had nearly made it to the gates before she heard the sound of horses’ hoofs trotting up behind her.
Lachann swung down beside her. He did not hesitate but pulled her into his arms. They were both hot and filthy, but naught had ever felt as good as his body pressed tightly against hers. He kissed her hard, then released her.
“You are unharmed?” His eyes were reddened from the irritation of being so close to the fire, and his face was sooty. She supposed hers must be the same.
She nodded, swallowing hard, just as Angus and Robbie came running up the path.
“Anna!” Robbie shouted. “Did ye see it?”
“Aye.” Her voice was as shaky as the rest of her.
“Laird MacMillan! Ye pulled the whole wall down!” Angus cried excitedly.
“Lads,” Lachann said, “were you in the village when the fire started?”
The two boys looked at each other. “Aye. O’ course we were!”
“Did you see anyone up near the granary? Or the distillery?” Lachann asked, as several of his men rode up alongside them.
Angus shook his head. “We were fishin’ off the pier. I did’na see anyone. Did ye, Rob?”
Robbie shook his head, then Angus grabbed his friend’s sleeve and pulled him along to the castle gate.
“Do you think—”
“Lachann!” His men came up behind them, engulfed him, asking questions.
Anna had no business there, and she ran ahead to catch up with the boys as they went through the castle gate. She hurried past the keep and the courtyard, taking the path through the garden to Gudrun’s cottage. Once inside, she shut the door and sat down on the bed.
Ach, she seemed to have come full circle, all in one day. From those exquisite moments in Lachann’s arms, to her terror as he’d fought the fire. She was going to lose him.
Kilgorra needed a leader such as Lachann.
She could not stay and witness Catrìona’s marriage. The Saoibhreas would not take her, and she doubted any other ship would, either. But she needed to get away from the keep, away from Lachann and his wife.
Aye, she could go to Spirit Isle for a time, but she could not live there permanently.
Anna glanced ’round the cottage and thought mayhap it could be her home. Gudrun had lived there for years after Sigrid’s death. All Anna needed to do was to clear out the boxes and crates, and she could make it her own.
’Twould mean she would not leave everyone she knew and loved on the isle, though she would need to take pains in order to avoid Lachann and Catrìona. She decided it could be done.
She got up and went to the window. She pushed the shutters open and gazed out at the bench, now overgrown with moss and mold, where Gudrun used to sit. She could so easily picture her mother’s old servant, living alone out there for so many years.
Anna quickly pulled her head inside and closed the shutters, unwilling to think about what that reality meant for her.
Anna managed to slip away from Lachann far too easily, but he let her go for now.
He checked on Ramsay and discovered numerous people had seen him hanging about his shop after returning from changing the locks at the distillery. Which left Macauley. Lachann intended to find the bastard and give him the thrashing he deserved.
“The men would like to resume their training this afternoon, Lachann,” Duncan said.
“I want to meet with them back at the distillery in an hour,” Lachann replied.
“Aye?”
“We’ll need to rebuild the granary right away,” he explained. “ ’Tis nearly harvest time, and the barley must be stored somewhere so the distillery has what it needs for this year’s brew.”
Kieran nodded. “We can get a new one up quickly. All we’ll need is the timber.”
“And the hardware,” Duncan said, frowning. They were going to need the blacksmith’s skills.
“Aye. And manpower,” Lachann said. “Training must be suspended until there’s a new granary to store the grain.” Damn all.
“This sets us back, Lachann.”
“ ’Twas likely the point,” Lachann said angrily. “If Macauley wanted to distract us from creating a fighting force, he succeeded.”
“ ’Tis quite a diversion from what we intended to do here,” Duncan said.
Lachann was furious. If that was what Macauley had intended, he’d succeeded. Lachann wanted nothing more than to ram his fist down the bastard’s throat and then shove him off the battlements to the sea below.
But he reined in his temper and rode through the gates, quickly dismounting at the keep, leaving his men to take his horse to the stable.
He went into the keep and up to the great hall, where Graeme was replacing the candles in the lamps.
“Have you seen Macauley?”
“No, I haven’t seen him all day,” Graeme replied.
“Do you have any idea where he might be?”
The man’s color deepened—with anger or embarrassment, Lachann could not tell. “Ye might look ... er, try the old chapel, sir.”
“The chapel?” Lachann asked. “Beyond the stable, out by the castle wall?”
Graeme nodded. “Aye, that’s it.”
The place where Catrìona had taken him. The information did not sit well with Lachann. If Catrìona had also taken Macauley out there...
He was doubly glad of his decision regarding their marriage. “What about Laird MacDuffie?”
“He is in his bedchamber, sleeping,” Graeme replied.
“Has he heard news of the fire in the village?”
“I do not think so, sir,” Graeme replied. “Is the granary completely gone?”
Lachann nodded. “But nothing else in the village caught.”
Graeme crossed himself. “Thank the Lord.”
“Aye.”
Lachann took the stairs to the bedchamber two at a time and went to MacDuffie’s room. He knocked softly, and Alex MacRae came to the door. Lachann stepped inside and saw that the laird was indeed sound asleep.
Alex returned to the fireplace, where he’d been building up the fire.
“He complained of the cold when he had a waking moment,” the servant whispered.
Lachann looked at the old laird. The man did not look well, and though there was a wee chill in the air, ’twas certainly not cold in the room. “What ails him, Alex?”
Alex shrugged. “He’s always enjoyed his ale, sir, but so much whiskey is no’ good fer him. And these days, he does’na always keep his food down.”
All the more reason for Lachann to settle matters with him. If he died before he made Lachann his heir, Lachann would have to return home, leaving Kilgorra under dubious leadership.
It would also mean he had not secured the isle for Braemore’s protection. ’Twould be an entirely unsatisfactory result of all his planning.
He left the keep and made a quick run out to the chapel, where he found no one, not Macauley, not Catrìona. His confrontation would have to wait.
But it was coming, as soon as he found the filthy stoat.