The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,19
her, “just left.”
Of course, he also knew why Gemma “just left.” Because Keeley was the one person in the world who could talk Gemma into staying. Who could stop her from doing what she so deeply wanted to do.
It all made sense to Angus, but not to his two girls.
He waded into what had turned into an embarrassing slap fight, pushing the pair apart.
“That’s enough!” he barked. “I’ll not have my daughters fighting each other like this.”
“Your father’s right,” Emma said before going to the back door and bellowing for the rest of their brood. Not because she was angry, she just always bellowed at the children or they ignored her.
“You two”—Emma pointed at her eldest daughters—“will not fight in front of those little bastards. Giving ’em ideas. I won’t stand for it.”
Angus frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t call them little bastards.”
“They’re little bastards and they know it.”
One of the younger girls ran into the house, swinging a brand-new, all-steel hammer, but her mother immediately grabbed hold and yanked it from her pudgy little hands.
“Give me that! And no hitting the Amichais with your fists either,” Emma warned. “Or they may just eat you right up!”
“Mum!” Keeley and Gemma barked together.
“They’re mountain people,” Emma whispered. “They do that sort of thing.”
Both girls gawked at their mother before Gemma went about getting the rest of the children seated and Keeley went outside to round up their guests.
That’s when Emma turned to him and winked.
Reminding him why he would always love that woman.
CHAPTER 5
The food was good. The ale even better. But the chatter . . . ? Caid hadn’t known an entire family could talk that much. Now he understood why Keeley talked so much except when she was working at her forge. When she was focused on her work, she only spoke when she needed her apprentices to help her with something. Otherwise, the only sound coming from her was her work hammer bending metal to her will.
But at that dinner table . . . the talk was never ending. It wasn’t just the children either. It was the man and his wife. Did they not speak to each other during the day? Was that why all this discussion at dinner was necessary?
The only one who didn’t seem to have anything to say was the nun. Perhaps she was part of a silent sect, but that seemed unlikely as she had been arguing with her older sister all day. More likely it was that she was too busy watching Laila and the rest of them, wondering what they were up to, he guessed.
The meal was winding down, and Caid was staring blindly at the kitchen table, wondering how he could sneak out of here without insulting his hosts, when he felt something climb up his back and stand on his shoulders. Then a little body stretched across his head, arms hanging over his face, and began to snore.
Slowly, Caid turned to Keeley, who sat beside him. She glanced at him, looked back at the younger sibling she’d been chatting with, then . . . she looked back at him. Her gaze lifted up and her smile was huge. Then came silent laughter.
“Are you going to help me?” he finally asked her.
“But she likes you.”
“She threatened me with a nonexistent hammer all through dinner.”
“Mum took the hammer. But it would have just been a love tap.” When he only continued to stare at her, Keeley finally motioned to one of the older siblings. “Isadora, take her, would you?”
Chuckling, Isadora pulled the snarling toddler off his head.
“Come on,” Keeley said before she stood. “Da, we’re going to check the perimeter before bed.”
Her father waved them off, not breaking his conversation with his mate. A woman, Caid now knew, Angus Farmerson desperately adored. Despite the twelve offspring. Despite the hard work of farm living. Despite the fact his woman had a brutal scar that went from one side of her face to the other. A scar that cut right through her eye, leaving nothing but a white, dead thing that she couldn’t see out of. But she didn’t seem to care and he didn’t seem to notice.
Caid followed Keeley out of the house, across the farm, and into the woods. They continued to walk until they reached a lake.
A herd of wild horses were relaxing by the water. Some grazing. Some sleeping. But none of them bolted at the sight of Keeley.
She stopped at the lake’s edge, staring out into the darkness.