Page 70 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Talk after that turned to other things, such as the feast planned for Samhain night, and the progress of the smoking of the meat, as well as the changing weather and winter preparations. Niamh lost herself in her sewing and listening to the conversation.

They took a break for the noon meal and were on the way back when one of the serving lads approached her. “Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady, but these came fer ye. The messenger said ye should have them as soon as possible.”

Niamh took the two folded sheets of thick paper, her hands trembling slightly as she saw a familiar crest imprinted in the sealing wax. The crest of Clan Cameron.

On the back of one letter was scrawled her name, in her father’s familiar hand. And on the second, in the same hand was written a script she had seen once a year, ever since she was a child.

Tae me beloved Kathleen.

In her hands she held not only her father’s first letter to her since she’d been taken from Cameron Castle, but the letter to her mother, meant for Samhain night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

For a long moment, Nimah couldn’t breathe. She’d spent so long waiting for her father’s letter, but she’d never imagined he’d send her the letter for her mother as well. Surely he’d want to burn his own letter to her, to send his own words to the spirits on the Samhain fires. But the proof was there in her hand… he’d given her the chance to do it for both of them.

“Niamh? Are ye all right lass?” Catriona was watching her, as were the others. Niamh gulped back the stinging of tears in her eyes.

“Aye. ‘Tis just… I’ve been waiting tae hear from me faither. I havenae spoken tae him, even by a letter since the Autumn Equinox Festival, when I met Alistair.” She swallowed again. “I’m afraid I said some harsh words tae him, I was afeared…”

“Och, lass, harsh words never stopped a proper father from lovin’ his daughter. If he loves ye at all, he’s missed ye sore since then.”

“I dinnae ken. But the letter…” She wanted to read it immediately, but she had promised to work on her Samhain gift and dress during the afternoon.

“Ye go, tak’ whatever time ye need. And if ye miss the afternoon, ye’re well enough along that ‘twill nae be a problem, I think.” Moira gave her a motherly embrace. “Dinnae fret lass. There’s none here who’d begrudge ye the chance tae hear from yer kin.”

Niamh nodded. “Then if ye’ll excuse me.” She turned and hurried away, tears stinging her eyes again as she entered the library. She’d thought about going to her rooms, but she didn’t want to chance encountering Alistair there.

There were glowing coals in the library hearth, and it was the work of a few moments to add some wood and coax them into a warm blaze. Once that was done, Niamh settled herself into the chair near the fire and opened the first letter, the one addressed to her.

Me Dearly Beloved Daughter,

Let me tell ye, afore I say aught else, that ye need never apologize tae me fer the way we parted. I regret it sorely as well, but I ken well enough that ‘twas me own doing that we parted so poorly. I wanted tae see ye safely wed, and I needed the help o’ yer maither’s kin, but I handled the matter poorly, and I am sorrier fer it than ye will ever ken.

I am sorry, as well, that I’ll nae be there tae give ye away tae yer husband, or for the Samhain celebration. I wish with all me heart that it were possible, me beloved child, but it is nae. I cannae make the journey at this time o’ year, nae when there’s much tae be done tae see our clan safe and secure fer the winter, and ready fer spring.

I understand ye will likely feel bitterly disappointed, me darling Niamh. I can only pray that it will ease yer anger tae ken that the outer walls have been repaired, and the mending o’ the castle is continuing as we speak. When winter comes, Clan Cameron will be safe and warm. Likewise, we’ve had a good harvest, and ‘tis me hope and belief that nae one o’ our folk will go hungry this winter. And that, in part, is due tae ye.

I ken ye were angry when ye left, and ye deserved tae be. I can only say that Laird MacDuff seemed tae be a good man. I hope he is treating ye as ye deserve - well and with every gentleness and respect. If he is nae, tell me, and I will come tae yer aid, and tak’ ye away, whatever I must dae.

Likewise, I am gladdened tae hear that ye have found kinship with yer maither’s family. ‘Tis me hope they can tell ye everything I never could about her. Ye deserve tae ken yer kin and yer heritage, and tae be among those that loved her - I hope they come tae love ye as well.

I sent the letter fer yer maither tae be burned along with yers, because I ken ye would be aggrieved tae be unable tae send it. In any case, I’ve only one wish fer this Samhain - I wish fer ye, me daughter, tae be happy, healthy, and loved. I wish fer ye tae find all the fulfillment and joy a faither could wish for his daughter, and I pray ye will find peace, and a way tae put tae rest all the fears that have long plagued yer heart and mind.

I love ye, me darling Niamh. I love ye more than any penned words in a letter can ever convey. With every breath in me body, I wish ye all the joy ye could ever want. I wish ye a loving husband, a life surrounded by loving kinfolk, and, if ever it be yer wish and decision, the joy o’ children. And if nae, joy in yer clan.

I dinnae ken that I will be able tae travel tae see ye afore winter closes the roads between us. But if that is the case, then look fer me in spring, and until then, I will send what letters I may, and pray tae receive yer words in turn.

Ken that, however infrequent our exchanges may be, ye will be in me thoughts and me heart alway,s daughter. And I will count the days until I have a chance tae hold ye again.

Fer now, I will wish ye a blessed Samhain.

With all me Love,

Yer Faither, Bruce Cameron

Niamh’s tears were falling freely down her face by the time she finished the letter, her heart aching painfully as she read and reread each word. The emotions that tore through her made it hard to breathe, hard to think past her tears and the feelings swirling through her mind.

He wasn’t angry. He loved her, and he had wished her happiness. Her father shared her grief over their parting, and her regret over how it had happened, but he didn’t fault her for it.