Page 25 of Highland Flame

“Aye, that would be Nash and North,” Cam informed him, getting scowls from his friends for tattling on them.

“How kind of you,” said the monk.

“Kind?” Nash looked over to North who shrugged from his chair. Just when it seemed they would be reprimanded, they were being thanked instead? This place was odd indeed.

“The lay brothers could use the extra help in harvesting the fruit. I’m sure you’ll go back to help them finish now that you’ve moved all of my sister’s belongings up here.”

“Now wait a minute,” said Nash, holding up his hand. Cam was sure he was going to object, so he intervened.

“They’d be more than happy to oblige,” he answered for them. “After all, they’ve already tasted the rewards of their impendin’ task. Isna that right, boys?”

“Well, that all depends. Are ye personally goin’ to help pick fruit as well?” asked North, not happy at all about the way things were going.

“If that is what Brathair Gillies wishes, then I will,” said Cam. “However . . .” He bent down and picked up Avianca whose eyes were already closing. The little girl was too tired to fight him. “I had hoped to get the tour of the priory along with Yvaine. My daughter is tired, and I’d like to see where she will be sleepin’ so I can put her down to rest.”

“Of course, we will do that right away. Come with me,” said the monk, hurrying out the door. “You other two will find ladders, and baskets for the fruit in the stable,” the monk called over his shoulder.

“Cam, that wasna fair,” snorted Nash. “Ye answered for us. Plus, we ken ye dinna even care about the child.”

“Aye. Ye just did that to get out of workin’,” snapped North. “I swear this is turnin’ out to be more our punishment than yers.”

“Ye heard the monk. Now, haud yer wheesht and get to work,” Cam instructed. “Yvaine, let’s go see the rest of the priory.” Cam headed out the door with the sleeping child in his arms as she lay her head against his chest.

It was true what his friends said. Normally, Cam didn’t like being anywhere near children. He didn’t know anything about caring for them, and neither did he want to. But when he looked down at the little angel sleeping in his arms, something changed. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world when her eyes were closed. Avianca trusted him enough to sleep in his arms, that thought making his heart thaw just a little. She seemed so innocent – so vulnerable. If she really was his daughter, then all he wanted to do was to protect her. If. He could not know for sure. After all, the whore, Isobel, was not to be trusted. She had often lied to him just to get her way. Still, she was his favorite out of all the whores he’d ever bedded. Mayhap she wasn’t lying, after all.

Damn, why did he have to be in this rotten position? He was in no place in his life to take care of a child by himself. Cam was a Highland warrior, free to do as he pleased. He fought men and protected the clan. But now, he would have to focus on protecting this child at all times . . . if she was truly his.

“Give her to me. I’ll take her,” offered Yvaine, holding out her arms for Avianca.

“Nay. I’ve got her,” he said, not wanting to put her down just yet. They followed Brother Gillies down the stairs and across the courtyard.

“We both ken that ye only used the child to get out of work, just like yer friends said,” Yvaine told him in a soft voice. “Cam, ye dinna even care about Avianca, so dinna pretend that ye do.”

“Sister, how can you say such a thing?” Brother Gillies had good hearing, and her words to Cam did not go unnoticed. Her brother stopped and turned around. “The lass is Cam’s daughter. Of course, he cares about her. How can you accuse him of anything less?”

“Really.” Yvaine’s chin jutted out as she looked from the corners of her eyes at Cam. “If that’s so, then why willna he just admit aloud that he sired the lass? Plus, he means to ask ye to find Avianca a home with a guid family.”

“What? Is that true?” Gillies looked to Cam in question.

“Well . . . I suppose it was my intention,” said Cam, not wanting to lie to the man when he was inside holy walls. “But ye have to understand. There is no real proof that the girl is truly mine.”

“We have the dyin’ words of the wee lass’ mathair that ye are the faither. I think that is more than enough proof,” said Yvaine.

“If you really want me to find a home for the girl, I will,” said Gillies. “I do know of several families in town that either have children and want more, or couples who are childless and would like one. I’m sure it won’t be a problem to place her with a loving family.”

“A lovin’ family,” Cam repeated, looking down at the girl once more. He thought of his own childhood that was so similar to what Avianca had most likely lived her entire life. No one deserved that! His wish for the girl was to have a normal childhood, living with peasants who farm the land and where she could play with other children. That is what any child deserved. It was also more than he could offer. “Aye. That would be fine,” said Cam, not wanting to sound ungrateful. Yvaine obviously didn’t agree with the decision. She all but snatched the little girl out of his arms, making Cam feel empty and alone.

“You’ve already seen the church,” said the monk, “so we won’t go there now. Next to it is our chapter house.” He nodded to a long building attached to the side of the church.

“Chapter house? What is that for?” asked Cam.

“It is where we have our meetings, or where Bible readings are sometimes done.” Brother Gillies entered the cloistered walkway that surrounded the area. The cloisters connected all the buildings and the church together. If it rained, one could walk under these areas to get from one place to another, all the while remaining dry. “Here are the cloisters.”

“These archways are phenomenal,” said Cam in awe, looking up to the high stone arches that made up the outside of the cloistered pathways. Some of them were still in the midst of repair. He could see a scaffold in one area and several lay brothers laying bricks to fix the partially demolished area. “It is amazin’ how much has been repaired. After all, I heard Lanercost was naught but ruins, no’ that long ago.”

“Lanercost has constantly been under attack by the Scots through the years,” said the monk. “As if it weren’t bad enough that William Wallace and then Robert Bruce attacked the place, just over two decades ago was the worst.”

“Ye mean when King David was here,” said Cam, knowing the stories.