Highland Warrior by McCollum, Heather (people reading books TXT) 📗

granddaughter is in favor of retreat, either,” she said.

Across the room, Kára, bairn still on her shoulder, began to make her way over to him. “But my clan is large and the most powerful in Scotland.”

“Powerful enough to overthrow Robert’s rule here?” Harriett asked.

Certainly, but then King James would outlaw the Sinclair Clan and try to take their lands and castle. Civil war would rage across northern Scotland, and they would need to take the crown from King James to win. The lives of the common people would be misery, and death would rule the land for years before things settled, leaving the borders vulnerable to English and French invaders. The thought left bitterness in Joshua’s mouth, making him want to spit.

“Such frowns over here,” Kára said, stopping before them, her gaze going from her grandmother to Joshua. “What are you two talking about?”

“War and twisted souls,” Harriett said.

“’Tis not something to talk about at a celebration of life,” Joshua murmured, his gaze going to the wee lad wrapped in bright blue swaddling.

Kára brought him off her shoulder so he could see that the lad was awake, his blue eyes taking in whatever he could see. Osk came up to stand at Joshua’s shoulder. “He looks lusty and full of health after such a difficult time being born,” Osk said.

“You can hold him,” Kára said to Joshua. “He is named after you.” She lifted the bairn away from her, settling him into his arms.

The bundle felt awkward, so light and fragile, nothing like the bulk of a newborn foal. “He is smiling at me,” Joshua said, balancing the bundle in the crook of one arm. He reached into the bunting to pull out one of the lad’s little hands.

“He is too young to smile,” Harriett said.

Joshua looked at her. “Too young to smile or too young to know not to smile at a Horseman of War?”

“Both,” she said and walked toward the door to join her sister, Hilda.

Joshua looked back down at the miniature face that started to scrunch up. “He is going to fuss,” he said.

“He nursed before the ceremony,” Kára said. “There is probably a bubble trapped inside. Pat his back.”

Joshua shifted to clasp him in two hands, and the bairn’s face relaxed into a smile. “See, he smiles at me.” He lifted him into the air and looked upward at him.

Kára tipped her head back to look up at the bairn near the ceiling. “I would not—”

Like a river of foamy white, the bairn’s puke shot out from his wee lips. Years of training his reflexes to save him, Joshua twisted to the side, and the spit-up flew over his shoulder.

“Aak,” Osk yelled as the bairn’s puke hit him in the face.

Joshua lowered the bairn to rest over his shoulder, his large hand spanning him to pat his back.

Osk sputtered, wiping his face. “What the bloody hell!”

“If we ever take bairns into battle, we should make sure to feed them well first,” Joshua said and grinned. Kára held a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter from erupting.

“Give me my bairn,” Brenna said, suddenly next to him, her fingers reaching and her frown fierce. “No one is taking him into battle.”

Joshua looked to Kára. “She is always snatching him away from me.”

“Have your own babe,” Brenna said. “Then you can flip him up into the rafters and make him empty his breakfast.” She huffed. “Now I have to feed him again.”

“He is perfectly healthy and happy,” Joshua said, pointing to the little face. “See, he does smile at me.”

“If he is already smiling, it is at me,” Brenna said and whisked the baby away.

Kára’s grin spread wide, and a soft chuckle came out. “New mothers are a protective lot. Do not mess with her or Brenna might slice your throat.”

Joshua’s hand went to his neck, rubbing it absently. “Hmmm…I was going to gift wee Joshua with one of my sgian dubhs, but perhaps that is not the best, given his mother’s bloodthirstiness.”

Kára laughed. “What else would you give him then?”

Joshua tilted his head in the direction of Kára’s underground cottage where the stack of tributes from the children still sat. “I have a pile of painted rocks, jams, and woolen scarves. Perhaps one of those.”

Kára’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “And make a child cry that you gave their gift away?”

“Gifts? More like bribes,” he said, meeting her smile.

She flipped her hand this way and that. “But they were bribes given from the heart.”

“Well, then, I suppose I will gift him my sgian dubh and stay well away from his mother.”

“You are wise, Joshua Sinclair,” Kára said, smiling as she stared up into his eyes. Open and happy, as if the world were a safe and wondrous place. He had never seen anything so…freeing, as if his whole life he had not been able to take a full breath until that very moment.

He reached forward to capture her chin in his fingers and leaned in to her. His gaze traveled the softness of her cheeks, the freckles over her straight nose, the long lashes bordering her eyes, and ended on the perfect curves of her lush mouth. “How can I keep this happiness on your face?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

Her exuberant, teasing smile faded, and it was as if a shadow of darkness had fallen over her, bringing a chill to the room. “Happiness in my world is fleeting. It is impossible to keep.”

Sensing her withdrawal, he dropped his hand. “Perhaps we should find a new world, then?”

After a pause, Kára looked toward the door. “I should go to town to help set up for the Fire Festival to celebrate Samhain this eve.”

Joshua cleared his throat and crossed his arms. Behind him, Geir made gagging noises and laughed as Osk continued to wipe away the bairn’s puke. “’Tis clever not to light the fires here at Hillside to draw attention,” Joshua said.

“We still must be on guard for Robert’s retaliation in town.”

“I will set up