Caitlin's chest ached, her eyes burned. Fear clutched at her with cold fingers, dread of a world she could only imagine. "I will have courage," she promised. "I will make you proud of me, whatever fate may bring."
"I will always be proud to call you daughter." The abbess stroked her cheek. "I shall miss you, my little one."
When they could delay no longer, Caitlin and the abbess walked out into a dimly lit courtyard, the small space filled with the other nuns waiting to say farewell.
"Do not forget your prayers!" someone chided.
"God go with you, child!"
The chorus of voices, each suddenly so precious, echoed about her. Tears blinded Caitlin as she strode through the mass of sisters, givingembraces, trying to soothe them, despite the hard knot of grief in her own chest.
As she and Reverend Mother approached the gate, Caitlin could not keep from hanging back, delaying the inevitable. From her vantage point behind the abbess's flowing robes, Caitlin stared, disbelieving. The rickety portal had been shored up, made strong again. Had the sisters been so alarmed by Niall's siege of the abbey that they had labored over the gate through the night?
But it was Niall whose dark hair was dusted with curls of wood shavings, a bloody scrape healing on his forearm.
"We have you to thank for this?" the abbess asked him.
Niall shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I could not sleep. I had to do something or run mad."
The abbess smiled. "God bless you, my son."
"I am no woman's son," he snarled. Then he held out a massive hand to Caitlin. She wanted to cower away, but she remembered her promise to the abbess, to herself. Summoning up her courage, she let the brute heft her up onto his horse. He swung up behind her, his body hard and hot and overwhelming.
"Caitlin!" the abbess cried, rushing forward,clinging a moment to her hand. "Always remember, the world is as full of beauty as it is of tears. Who knows what wonders will come of this journey? Open your arms to them, my child. Embrace them as you have everything else in your life—with joy in your heart and as much delight as you can hold!"
A bitter sound of scorn came from Niall, and he spurred the beast through the gate, cursing as Caitlin strained to see behind them. Her gaze clung to the abbey until she could no longer see the abbess's face, until the stone blurred, then vanished behind the veil of trees.
"No wailing. You gave your word." Was there wariness in the warrior's voice?
What would it matter if she cried her heart out? Caitlin thought. It would change nothing. She would still be torn away from everything she knew, everyone she loved, losing them forever.
It seemed she had already learned her first lesson in this strange new world. Even if your heart was breaking, there was no use in crying when no one who loved you was there to dry the tears.
Chapter 3
Even the sky seemed to mock Caitlin, the sun arcing across the heavens like a golden ball tossed by an angel's hand. The buttery rays set velvet-green hills aglow and gilded the petals of flowers. Wing feathers flashed blue and red, black and silver, as birds soared against a perfect sky.
She wanted to close her eyes against the beauty of it, clutch her grief tight to her breast. She wanted to concentrate on loathing this surly stranger who had dragged her away from everyone she loved.
But as Niall guided the stallion deeper into the world she had never seen, Caitlin's nature turnedtraitor. Eyes that should be straining to see behind her, memorizing all that she was leaving behind, were drawn forward to red deer leaping in graceful arcs and clusters of blossoms clinging precariously to tiny cracks in the rocks that strewed the ground.
In the lush countryside, tiny landholdings were tucked about rare as gems. Thatch roofs gleamed in the distance, figures the size of a little girl's poppet tending cattle that seemed small enough for Caitlin to hold in the palm of her hand.
All her life, the abbess had spun stories for her about the world beyond the abbey's walls, but never had Caitlin imagined how it would feel to have the wind in her face, every glen, every hill, every blossom unexpected, new. Colors so vivid they made her chest ache, a sweep of limitless possibilities it would take a lifetime to discover. Freedom...
Guilt made her struggle to resist the pull of her own curiosity. How could she be so unfeeling? Was her love so shallow? Reverend Mother would still be grieving, would she not? Locked away with her sorrow in the tiny cell that was her world. Yet, what had the abbess said just as Niall was about to spur away from the abbey?Openyour arms to the world... to joy. That has always been your greatest strength.
That was what Reverend Mother had placed her faith in. Caitlin's resilience. A resilience far more important than any lingering resentment she felt toward the man whose arms held her upon the horse's back.
She closed her eyes, intrigued by a sound that seemed to roll toward her from the distance, a strange, haunting rhythm she had never heard before. God's voice, low? Echoing the abbess's words?
Opening her eyes, she strained to see in the direction of the sound, realizing that it had not been her imagination. The haunting music swelled, more insistent. In the throes of her temper hours earlier, she had vowed she would swallow her own tongue before she would speak another word to the oaf who was her guardian, but suddenly she was stunned to hear her own voice raised against the wind.
"What is that?"
"What?" He started in the saddle, as if the loaf of bread the sisters had packed in a sack for him had suddenly gained the power of speech.
"That sound—like thunder, but not."
