“Wife.”
Claray pulled back from her thoughts and smiled at Conall as he stopped before her. For a moment they just stared at each other, and she swore she could see her own need and frustration swirling in his eyes. Then he sighed wearily, gave his head a little shake and turned toward the wagons that were rolling to a stop in front of the keep.
“Come,” he said, catching her elbow to lead her to the back of the first wagon. “Why do ye no’ start going through things while I talk to yer father’s men and find out why they were delayed.”
He waited for her to nod, then turned to walk to where the soldiers who had escorted the wagons were reining in next to the second wagon.
Claray watched him go before turning to survey everything in the first wagon. Her eyes widened when the first thing she spotted were several kitchen items.
“Aunt Annabel,” she called excitedly, beginning to drag a large cauldron out of the wagon to see what was behind it.
“Oh, Claray,” Lady MacKay exclaimed as she reached her side and saw what she’d found. Pulling out a large pot with one hand and a huge ladle with the other, she showed them to Kenna as her daughter joined them. “This is wonderful. I guess tonight I shall be crossing items off the list I was making of things needed for the kitchen. Actually, I shall be crossing off most of the items. There are things here I hadn’t even thought of.”
“Is that a grater?” Kenna asked, leaning in to pull out the handmade iron grater.
“Aye,” Claray laughed even as tears welled in her eyes at her mother’s forethought. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she shook her head. “How did she know we would need all this?”
“Well, she only died four years ago, dear. That was already eighteen years after everyone had fled Deagh Fhortan. I imagine the kitchens and every other room in the castle were ransacked and emptied out within the first couple of years. She obviously thought of that and gifted you with what she thought you might need most. I just wish I had thought of it myself, and I am sorry I did not,” she added apologetically. “Perhaps I could have—”
“Nay,” Claray interrupted, touching her arm to silence her. Shaking her head firmly she said, “Ye’ve worked like a dog and slept on the ground this past week to help Conall and I get things settled here. And that after riding night and day to get first to MacFarlane to try to aid us too, then riding back with us at a less-than-relaxed pace. That is a most wondrous gift. Ye’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“Oh, dear girl.” Annabel hugged her.
“Ohhhh, Claray!” Kenna suddenly squealed. “This crate is packed with pottery. There are jugs, and bowls and—Oh, I see a pipkin skillet!”
Chuckling, Claray and Conall’s aunt broke apart to continue sorting through the wagon. The other women had moved closer to see now and exclaimed over each find with as much excitement as Claray. Even Mhairi managed a smile, something she’d rarely seen the woman do since working with her.
“We should start carting this lot in while ye check the next wagon,” Mhairi announced, and Claray hid her amusement at the woman’s less than delicate hint that she should move on and get out of the way.
“Aye, thank ye,” she said as Mhairi gently nudged her aside to begin retrieving items. The other women immediately joined her and began carting things off to the kitchens as Claray led Kenna and Lady MacKay on to the next wagon. This one held some more items for the kitchens, several fine tapestries to hang from the walls in the great hall, carved wooden chairs and a chess set with the most beautifully carved pieces Claray had ever seen.
The third wagon held everything from Claray’s bedchamber at MacFarlane: her bed, mattress, bed-curtains, the table and chairs that had sat by her fire, the small tables that sat on either side of her bed and her three chests of clothes. She wanted to squeal and do a little jig, but contained herself. It was wonderful, but really it was a problem as well since she wasn’t sure where she would keep it all until the upper floor was done. Deciding to leave that concern for later, she moved on to the next wagon.
The fourth wagon held pillows, linens, furs, two more mattresses, though there were no beds to go with them, but they could make those.
“Oh, Claray, she sent four lanterns! And look! There is a whole crate o’ candles for them too.” Pulling one out, she sniffed it and grinned. “I think they’re beeswax candles! Those are the best.”
Claray swallowed, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to her mother as she moved to where Kenna was hanging over the side of the wagon, digging through a crate.
The fifth wagon held bolts of material, enough to make gowns, bed-curtains and anything else she might want. It also held things her mother couldn’t have set aside for her: fresh food. There was barley, rye, wheat, salt, honey, various herbs and even fresh vegetables that she was sure her father must have ordered put together to be sent to her.
Turning away before she started to weep like a baby, Claray moved on to the last wagon. Much to her surprise as she walked around the back, she found Lovey there, standing on his hind legs, his front paws on the back of the wagon. He’d been with her when Conall had escorted her to the first wagon and she hadn’t noticed him wandering away. Curious now, she glanced to its contents and this time did squeal with delight when she saw all the cages holding the furry friends she’d rescued, mended and adopted over the years. At least, the ones that hadn’t been released back to the wild: Osbern the three-legged goat, Lowrans the blind wildcat, Grisell the baby cow who couldn’t walk when she first saw her and now could but was still quite wobbly on her feet, and of course Brodie the bunny, and her earless little fox.
Claray was about to climb into the wagon to coo at and reassure her little friends when it suddenly started to pull away from her. Startled, she stared after it with amazement, and then turned to Conall when he said, “He’s taking it to the stables. I thought ye’d want to see them settled right away.”
“Aye,” she agreed, beaming a smile at him for thinking of it.
Nodding, he took her elbow to lead her away, but stopped when Claray suddenly paused to look guiltily back toward the wagons and the people unloading them. She really felt like she should be helping.
Seeming to recognize her problem, Conall glanced toward the eight men who had started following them and said, “Hamish, stay and oversee the unloading. Find some men to help with the heavier items and have them put them where the women say.”
Nodding, Hamish moved away at once.
Conall tried to urge her to move then and, when she still hesitated, pointed out, “The women ken where everything should go, and we can help after. It should no’ take us long to settle yer wee creatures. But they’ve been traveling in those cages for a number o’ days. ’Tis probably better to get them out and settled in their new home as quickly as possible.”
Claray turned back to him, knowing her surprise was showing. She just hadn’t expected him to be so thoughtful of the wee beasties. He hadn’t seemed pleased when she’d found Brodie, the fox and Squeak and insisted on taking them with her. But then she was beginning to think that was all just for show. Conall certainly behaved with great care around Squeak, making sure he wasn’t underfoot or anywhere he might get crushed or injured, and bringing him raw meat at every meal. He also suffered Lovey and Stubborn Bastard following her around with more patience than she’d expected. He didn’t let Stubborn Bastard in the keep, but Lovey was allowed in and slept on one side of her while Conall was on the other on the great hall floor. Although that might be because he felt the wolf helped keep her safe.