Page 37 of Highland Spirit

“My turn,” said Isobel, climbing up on Ethan’s lap before he had a chance to object.

“So this girl was a stowaway from the haunted castle?” asked Bridget, probably already devising a story in her head to scribble into the Highland Chronicles. She always seemed to be around when Ethan needed to talk to his friends. He had to watch what he said around her. She’d tell her father and it might end up in that book, and that wouldn’t be good for Alana. It could bring trouble to her and her family if too many people knew where they were.

“Caleb,” said Ethan, trying to give his friend an inconspicuous nod of his head to take the woman somewhere else. After all, Caleb fancied her, even though Ethan couldn’t understand why.

“Huh?” asked Caleb, eating again as always. For such a small man, he seemed to eat twice as much as the others.

“Dinna ye want to show Bridget somethin’?”

“What?” asked Caleb, licking off his fingers.

“Tell me more about the isle and the castle,” said the girl, pushing her way closer, leaning forward so she wouldn’t miss a word. “Whose child is this? And does someone actually live in those ruins?”

Ethan groaned. “Caleb, mayhap ye’d like to get Bridget a drink?”

“Nay, I’m fine,” she said, looking down at little Isobel. “What is her name?”

“It’s Isobel,” he mumbled as the little girl’s eyes closed and she snuggled up contentedly against his chest to sleep.

“She looks a lot like ye,” said Bridget.

His head snapped up at that comment. “Nay she doesna,” he said, perusing the girl. Then he decided mayhap she did look like him a little, but it was only a coincidence, naught else.

“Aye, she does. She’s got those big, round, brown eyes like yers and her hair is the same color as yers,” continued Bridget.

“A lot of children do. It’s common,” he said, once again looking over at Caleb who was just about to take a big bite of a cinnamon custard tart.

Logan understood, and snatched the tart away from Caleb, shoving the whole thing in his mouth at once.

“Losh me! What did ye do that for?” Caleb jumped to his feet, looking like he was ready to punch Logan.

“Mayhap ye’d better get another one,” said Hawke.

“And take Bridget with ye,” added Ethan.

Finally, Caleb caught on. “Oh, aye. Bridget, why dinna we go find a tart or two?”

His friends burst out laughing.

Caleb took her by the arm. “I mean food . . . no’ the other kind of tart,” he said, sounding embarrassed.

“But I wanted to ask Ethan more about the isle,” Bridget protested. “Then again, ye were there, too, so mayhap ye can tell me about it instead.” She smiled but Caleb threw his friends a look that said he needed saving as they headed away.

Ethan looked down at the little girl in his arms, not able to think of anything else except that she was Alana’s child. That made him wonder about the girl’s father. His heart ached, thinking of what Bridget said, that she looked like him. If he and Alana had married, would their child have looked like this? He wondered.

Holding Isobel tightly in his arms, he felt like he wanted to protect her. Even if this wee lass wasn’t his own, he still felt that by holding her, he was closer to Alana in some way.

“She looks guid in yer arms,” said Hawke, bringing Ethan from his thoughts.

“Same to ye,” said Ethan, smiling since Hawke was in a similar situation as he.

“Och, ye two are actin’ like auld married men.” Logan waved his hand through the air in disgust. “Come on, Jack, let’s go hunt down a fox or a lassie or something that is more excitin’ than sittin’ here watchin’ this!” He and his wolf left.

Hawke’s wife, Phoebe, walked up next with their laird, Storm, and his wife, Wren.

“I think it’s time for Sophie to go to sleep,” said Phoebe, reaching out and taking the child from Hawke.

“I’ll take Isobel,” Wren offered, lifting her from Ethan’s arms. After they left, Storm cleared his throat, sitting down on a bench.