Page 10 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)

J erry , the strange disheveled man riding between my brother and me, would be fine.

Thankfully, color returned quickly to his dislocated arm.

Although it would be tender for weeks, it would heal.

The condition of his other arm was remarkable as well.

Caught in a rock fall that sent him slipping into the middle of the stream, the rock that held his right arm hadn’t crushed any part of him.

It had fallen in precisely the perfect position so that his arm fit snugly between two rocks.

If not for the width of his hand, he would’ve been able to pull his arm through and free himself.

He was of average height but looked small next to my brother.

His dark hair was cropped shorter than that of most men.

While the length of his beard made him look older, I suspected that he was at least five years younger than my brother.

He was dirty, smelled awful, and was so weary he could scarcely hold himself upright on his horse.

“Where were ye headed, lad? Were ye traveling alone? Why doona ye have any belongings with ye?”

Alasdair asked each question in such rapid succession that Jerry had no opportunity to respond. Each time the man opened his mouth to answer, my brother would send another question his way.

“Alasdair, why doona we see him to Mae’s inn, allow him to rest a while and then speak to him? He canna wish to speak of any of this just now. Look at him.”

Glancing over at me for the first time since we began the ride back to Conall territory, the stranger gave me a thankful, shy smile before turning to speak to Alasdair.

“Aye, forgive me, but the lass is right. My arm aches and I’m weary. If ye will see me to somewhere that I may rest for the night, I will answer anything ye wish to ask me come morning. I’ve little in means, but I’ll find some way to repay yer kindness.”

Alasdair nodded and ashamedly looked down.

“There is nothing to repay. O’course ye doona wish to talk. Forgive my rudeness. Can ye reach inside the pack to yer left? I believe there’s a strong ale within that will surely help with the pain. Every drop inside is yers.”

My brows lifted as I leaned forward and looked over at my brother in surprise. Alasdair hated ale. I’d only seen him drink it in front of our father. Even then, he only did so to prevent Father’s teasing.

Alasdair could see what I was thinking right away.

“’Tis not mine. Rab stowed it away.”

Jerry started in on the ale as if it were his first drink of water after we freed him.

He would be sick with drink by the time we reached Conall territory.

A lasdair and I returned to Mae’s inn before the sun rose the next day. Wayward travelers were common in Scotland. While this wasn’t the first time someone in my family had offered help to one of them, Jerry piqued my interest more than most.

It wasn’t just his short hair and the oddity of the predicament we’d found him in that intrigued me—there was a familiarity about his eyes that I couldn’t quite place.

Even drunk, Jerry had remained kind and courteous to us both, and I suspected that it was this that made Alasdair as eager as me to check on him the next day.

Accustomed to men growing boisterous and misbehaving after drinking, the man’s ability to maintain his dignity impressed my brother greatly.

I’d even heard him speak to Kip about hiring the man on as the new stable hand if he was in need of work.

When we arrived at the inn, Mae was already busy at work in the kitchen, though no guests were down from their rooms yet.

“Is he awake?”

She nodded and answered my brother in a whisper.

“Aye, I believe so. I heard movement from within his room before I came down.”

Following my brother, I stood back and waited while Alasdair ensured that Jerry was indeed awake and decent. When we walked inside, he looked as if he’d been expecting us for some time.

Alasdair wasted no time before asking his first question.

“Before the friendship between ye and my family continues, I must make certain that ye are not a man of ill-gotten means. Are ye a thief? Are ye on the run from anyone?”

I knew Alasdair didn’t believe this man was any sort of criminal, but his question didn’t surprise me. Alasdair was fiercely protective of the land that would one day be his and the people who lived on it.

“No, I survive by honest work and honest work alone. I held work at Creedrich Castle for the last year as a messenger for the laird. While I know that the circumstances in which ye found me doona speak to my talents, I know Scotland’s land as if it were all my own.”

“Are ye on an errand for the laird now? Were ye meant to deliver a message when ye fell?”

Jerry’s beard made it difficult to discern much emotion from his expression, but I thought anger flashed in his eyes.

“No. I no longer offer my services to the laird of Creedrich territory. The man killed the…my…”

He hesitated and Alasdair pressed him.

“Yer what, lad?”

“My wife.”

For the first time since meeting Jerry, I suspected him of lying. The word didn’t flow from his mouth naturally. Instead his gaze dropped to the floor, and the word wife seemed to trip out of his mouth as if it had been pushed outward. The words hadn’t been easy for him to say.

“Yer wife? Why would the laird kill yer wife?”

Jerry hesitated then stood up from the edge of the bed where he’d been sitting.

“I am sorry. I appreciate yer kindness in seeing me here, but I’m afraid ’tis not ye that I need to tell my story to. I must speak to the laird’s son, for he is the only one who may be able to help me. Do ye know how I might cross his path?”

Casting me a careful glance, Alasdair crossed his arms and joined me against the wall.

“The laird’s son? Do ye know him?”

Jerry shook his head.

“No, though my…my wife,” again he seemed to struggle with the words, “she knew him. I have reason to believe he tried to seek her out before her death. I mean to find out why.”

Every hair on my body stood on end. He couldn’t possibly mean Grier.

Twisting to look at my brother, I watched as he tried to mask his thoughts.

Alasdair was an open book—he looked as speechless as I felt.

Silently asking Alasdair to stay back, I placed my hand on his arm and stepped away from the wall as I went to stand in front of Jerry.

I wanted to look in his eyes as I asked him.

“The lass ye speak of—she is not yer wife, is she?”

He stared at me for a long, silent moment, and the same strange sense of déjà vu I’d felt while on horseback yesterday evening swept over me.

“Ye can tell me. If ye lied about it, I know there must be a reason.”

While I meant for my words to put him at ease, I could see in the way that his gaze hardened, I’d only aroused his suspicion. Leaning back to increase the space between us, he didn’t break eye contact as he answered me.

“Lass, if ye are of the opinion that I owe ye any explanation, ye are wrong. While I’m thankful for both of ye, this here is not what I owe ye.

Name yer price in regard to the work I must do for ye.

As soon as strength returns in my arms, I shall complete it and call the debt I owe ye paid.

Now, I would appreciate it if ye would both leave me.

I shall find a way to speak to the laird’s son on my own. ”

Laughing, Alasdair stepped away from the wall.

While Jerry’s response only infuriated me, I could see by my brother’s expression it only endeared the man to him even more.

Alasdair would’ve behaved in exactly the same way had their roles been reversed.

Jerry didn’t know that he was standing in the same room with the very man he wished to find.

He only knew that the two people who’d provided him aide were questioning him as if he were their prisoner.

“Lad, ye doona owe us anything. I believe I can help ye gain access to the man ye seek. I know the laird’s son verra well.

Ye said before that ye no longer offer yer services to the laird of the territory from which ye came.

Are ye in need of work? Not debtors work, but work in which ye may earn yer keep to stay here? ”

Jerry nodded. “Aye. Any work ye can offer me, I will happily take.”

Alasdair smiled, and I could sense what he meant to do. It would please him to trick the man.

“I’ve no work for ye, but the castle’s stable is looking for a new hand.

I’ve business I must attend to with the laird himself this evening.

I shall present ye to him. If he thinks ye suitable, perhaps he will allow ye to stay on.

If ye work at the castle, ye are bound to cross paths with the laird’s son.

Ye can then reveal everything to him that ye doona wish to reveal to us. ”

Jerry smiled.

“Thank ye. Yer understanding and kindness means much.”

Satisfied with himself, Alasdair moved to the door.

“Ye canna come to the castle looking like that, lad. Ye must see yerself cleaned and groomed if ye wish the laird to grant ye work.”

With his left shoulder still bound to his chest and his right arm bruised, he would need help.

“I doona think he can. Will it really matter?”

With a horrified expression that I knew full well was pretend, Alasdair twisted in the doorway and looked back at me.

“Aye, it matters. I willna bring any man before the laird and present him as my guest looking as he does now. What would the laird think of me?”

Shaking my head to shame him, I neared my brother and whispered, “What do ye expect him to do?”

Dismissively, Alasdair shrugged as we walked into the hallway.

“Mae can help him.”

Mae constantly had more to handle than any person should ever have to. I wouldn’t allow Alasdair to place one more burden on her shoulders.

“No. Say nothing to Mae. I’ll see him shaved and readied for this charade of yers. Ye should be ashamed of yerself, Alasdair.”

Alasdair laughed.

“Ye can tell him if ye like. Doona take long with him. Father will wish to see ye when ye return to the castle. He believes that ye’ve been here helping Mae, and ye know he will tell ye that he doesna care for it.”

I had no wish to spend more time with the man than necessary. I wanted to return to the castle so I could see the surprise Alasdair mentioned the day before.

“Aye, I know. Go on. I’ll follow ye shortly.”

A few moments later, I returned to Jerry’s room with a blade and bowl of water in hand. He eyed me skeptically.

“I’ve no desire to rid myself of my facial hair.”

“Are ye in need of work? If so, I doona believe ye have a choice.”

Pointing to a wooden seat in the room’s corner, I waited for him to sit. He held out a hand to stop me as I approached.

“Wait. If ye mean to put a blade to my throat, I must at least know yer name first.”

Setting the water bowl down on the table next to him, I reached forward to comb through the hair with my fingers. It was wiry and filthy. I couldn’t wait to see what he looked like without it.

“I canna believe it dinna occur to ye to ask our names before now. ’Tis yer own fault my brother has fooled ye so. My name is Morna Conall, and the man who just offered to present ye to the laird is my brother, Alasdair—the laird’s son.”

Enjoying the look of embarrassed horror in his eyes, I set about my work.