Chapter 15 #2
Nora exhaled deeply, reminding herself that it wasn’t her responsibility to make up for the mistakes of others.
There were plenty of other people in the clan who could make things better, who could stand against Hamish, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a riot sooner or later.
While it made her sad to think about such things, she was not about to let herself wallow in melancholy.
Today was a good day, for the first time she was choosing something for herself, and she had faith that it was the right decision.
Her chores took her into the bedroom. She arranged the bed neatly, smiling as she traced the imprint of Callan’s body.
Then, she turned to his dresser and chests.
They were covered in dust. As she was wiping them with a cloth, she inadvertently knocked one down.
It must have been old because the lock broke open quite accidentally and the contents spilled out.
Nora didn’t want Callan to think she was trying to pilfer his goods or snoop through his belongings, so she knelt to the floor and swept them up.
Amid the silver and gold, one thing caught her eye.
It made her blood run cold.
Her heart sank and she was tempted to close her eyes, to blind herself to the truth, but she could not. Nimble fingers rummaged through the trinkets and pulled out a silver pin. It was a gilded flower, exactly the kind that her mother had worn. She turned it around and then let out a choking cough.
There was the mark. Hamish had hidden it one day, blaming it on Nora. The pin had been damaged, but her mother told Nora that it didn’t matter. Damaged things could always be fixed.
There was only one reason why it would be in Callan’s possession.
The door to the cabin swung open. Callan’s footsteps thumped. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Nora was hunched on the floor, clutching the pin in her hands.
“Ye… killed them,” she said in a harrowed whisper before he could utter anything.
The tension in the air was thick.
“Nora? What dae ye mean?” he asked.
Nora whirled around. All the affection that had softened her eyes had been torn away by the rage of a grieving daughter. She held the pin aloft.
“Ye killed them! My parents! This was Ma’s,” she said.
The color drained from Callan’s face. He held up his hands. “I… how dae ye ken? That could belong tae anyone.”
“I ken it’s hers. I would ken it anywhere. Dinnae try tae deny it. Hae ye kenned all along? Hae ye been hiding this from me? How could ye take me tae bed when ye ken? It makes me sick.”
She was ready to gag. Her stomach churned, thinking about all she had shared with him. Her body, her soul, her heart… all with the man who had murdered her parents.
“I dinnae ken! I dinnae even ken who yer parents are,” Callan said, raising his voice.
“Aye,” Nora hissed, “because ye dinnae care about the people ye hurt. They’re naething tae ye.
Ye come intae their lives and tear everything apart, then ye ride off laughing, thinking that ye are sae clever.
Well ye are nae. Ye hurt people, Callan.
Ye killed them. I want ye tae think, tae really think.
Da was a tall man, stocky because he liked his food.
He wore a hat with a feather because he thought it made him look elegant.
Ma wore a green dress. It was her favorite color.
She hae this pin on her shoulder. They were just people, Callan, people ye killed,” the words rushed out in an angry torrent.
Nora wasn’t sure what to do with all her emotions.
Callan’s hands dropped. So did his head.
“I-I remember them,” he said. Tears formed in Nora’s eyes.
“It’s nae what ye think. I was only gaeing tae rob them, but as I was taking the pin yer Da attacked me.
We fell out of the carriage. Yer Ma followed, but the horses bucked and the wagon rolled.
She was nae looking. She got caught beneath the wheels.
Her neck was broken. Then yer Da was angry.
He tried tae strangle the life out of me and what was I supposed tae dae? He was gaeing tae kill me.”
“Sae ye killed him first,” the words dripped from Nora’s mouth, writhed in anguish. “That’s who ye are, Callan. That’s who ye will always be. I cannae love ye. I cannae stand being with ye. I hate ye.”
Nora attempted to stride past him. Callan’s arm shot out, grabbing her wrist.
“Wait!” he cried, but the words failed to penetrate the ringing in her ears.
There was no talking sense into her now, no mending what had been broken.
She had made many mistakes in her life, and the latest was loving the wrong man.
She used what Callan had taught her to twist away, thrusting her elbow into his gut and sprinting out of the door, leaving him doubled over, reaching for her with fingers that grasped only empty air.
The world was a blur to Nora as she ventured outside with bare feet.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t look back.
She ran as fast as she could, wanting to get away from Callan, away from everything.
White-hot rage burned inside her. For so long she had wanted to know who killed her parents, wanted them to meet justice.
Perhaps now it was possible. She could find someone with authority and get them to capture Callan.
He was a wanted man. Even if he couldn’t hang for her parents’ murder there were plenty of robberies he committed.
She ran and ran and eventually came upon a road. It was the same road she had traveled along when all of this terror unfolded. The wagon was still there and it was surrounded by men.
“Help!” Nora cried, waving her arms in the air.
She screamed at the top of her lungs and staggered towards them. The guards parted to reveal a man dressed in fine clothes. He had his hands clasped behind his back and a sash of tartan across his chest, blood red. Nora stopped instantly. She knew that tartan well.
It seemed that she had finally found Laid MacPherson.