With hair spun from rings of gold.
Upon Letterfinlay soil he did land,
Claiming he came from a future grand.
A MacMartin lad who knew no fear,
Clan Cameron took and held him dear.
“A sidhe lad
In red and green plaid
And charming to behold.
“One day tragedy learnt his name
In a skirmish with men in coats of flame.
To protect the laird whom he called his brother,
He gave a gift he could give no other.
On a bonny hill the lad met his ruin,
When he took a bullet meant for Sir Ewen.
“A sidhe lad
In red and green plaid
Died before he was old.
“The fearsome laird and his hounds did forgive
Any trespasses the fey lad did give.
For known as but a lettered young man,
He proved himself worthy of clan.
Honored is he until this day,
For a most precious price he did pay.
“Lochaber lasses still grieve for the lad, A MacMartin hero in Cameron plaid. ”
Lily took a deep breath, moved to see that very Lochaber land for herself. Tears stung her eyes as she thought of how happy it would have made Gram to stand once again on Scottish soil. Serenity washed over Lily, as if some imaginary force that had constricted her chest suddenly released. A feeling of connection overcame her. Shaking her head, she savored the paradox.
Standing on one of the loneliest spots on earth made her feel she ’d come home.
Chapter 3
A solid hour had gone by and Lily still couldn ’t find the right spot to round out the day’s drawing. She had followed the path down a steep incline, winding between large rocks, stopping every now and then to pick one of the tiny wildflowers that grew along the hills to press into her sketchbook, and worked her way along what she thought was the base of the hill that she’d perched upon all morning, the spot that had afforded her such a glorious panorama yet so many unsatisfying sketches. Stopping short, Lily looked back and realized that she had traveled much farther than the circumference of the original hill, and the valley she’d been hiking through had gradually narrowed into a deep gorge.
It was past noon and the sun was already starting to throw elongated shadows. Thanks to a rocky outcropping rising sharply above her, patches in the trail ahead were cloaked in darkness. Tenacious clumps of yellow brush forced their way up between the rocks at her feet, making the path jut out at precarious angles, while in other spots years of uncontrolled growth obscured it altogether, forcing Lily to slow her pace in order to pick her way along. She pulled her sweater tightly around her neck and told herself that it was merely a chill and not uneasiness that made her flesh shiver.
Just when she was about to curse her earlier expansive mood and all the sentimentality that had well and truly gotten her lost, Lily saw it. Just ahead on the right, set into the rock, so matter-of-fact, yet defying all logic.