It was only then that I could see the concern on her face.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“’Tis yer father, Morna. He’s dead.”
Chapter 29
Jerry couldn’t believe it. His reaction, once Elspeth left us, was to deny its truth. He dressed and paced around the room murmuring words meant to comfort me.
“They are not back yet. She heard this through the word of others. Perhaps he is merely injured. He’ll be fine once he is home.”
I knew Father was gone. I could feel it—the lack of his energy in the world. While I’d tried to deny and ignore the feeling, I knew this was coming.
I felt nothing, only a cool numbness that slowed the movement in my mind. I needed to see Alasdair. I needed to speak to him, to see if he was okay, to see what we would do now. Both our lives had always revolved around our father. What would our lives look like now? There would be much to take care of.
It surprised me how methodically my thinking became—so detached, so distant, as if I were an outsider sent here to help my family through this. I dressed slowly. I took my time pinning my hair and rinsing my face. When I was ready, I turned to Jerry and asked him to leave.
“I must find Alasdair. Go see to Mary and Kip. She will be devastated, and she will need extra help in whatever preparations must be made.”
He stared at me a long moment. I knew he was trying to gauge whether he should gather me in his arms to comfort me or do as I asked.
Crossing the room to him, I squeezed his hand like I would that of a child.
“I’m fine. We will speak of all of this later.”
I went in search of my brother.
* * *
My cold feeling of detachment vanished the moment I found Alasdair sitting by the fire in the sitting room. It was as if I simply couldn’t allow the reality to set in until I was with him. It was a grief we were meant to share together.
As he stood, I ran to him, allowing him to gather me in his arms as we wept together.
I knew both of us had such complicated emotions regarding our father. But in the end, every negative thing I ever felt about him didn’t seem to matter. All I felt was love for him and a deep sense of loss that seemed as if it would never end.
“He died in his sleep, just like Grandmother.”
“He dinna seem ill. Though, I think mayhap he knew his death was near.”
His arms still wrapped protectively around me, Alasdair rubbed my back gently. “How do ye mean, lass?”
I told him of my last conversations with Father, of the tenderness he’d shown me, of the dread I felt when he left. When Alasdair spoke, his voice was filled with emotion.
“I canna tell ye how much peace it brings me to know that. I’ve always worried he would leave this earth filled with regret for how he treated ye. ’Tis a blessing that in the end he shared with ye how he really felt.”
I cried into my brother’s chest as we clung to each other. “If it would’ve been less painful, I think mayhap I would’ve preferred for him to stay unkind. Losing him feels as if it may rip me apart.”
“We shall both heal from this, lass. I will hold ye together, and yer faith in me will keep me strong, just as we have always done for one another.”
“How is Eoin?”
Alasdair sighed. I could feel the burden he was already beginning to bear. He would see everyone through this, be the pillar of strength for everyone in and around the castle. He would be the best laird Conall territory had ever seen.
“I doona know how much the wee lad understands. He will miss him dearly. He was the only person whom Father softened around. He spoiled Eoin immensely.”
Grief is so much more than the unbearable sense of loss. It throws you off course, makes everything seem so unsure.
“What do we do now, Alasdair?”
