he offered her his hand. “Will ye let me help ye, Thea? I can lead ye back to where yer mother left ye.” And after, he’d make sure the woman and her daughter had food in their bellies, a warm place to sleep, and mayhap a job to earn their keep. “I have some influence here.”
She studied him with serious eyes. “Are ye a laird?”
He shrugged, his hand still extended. “Does it matter? I will help ye both.”
“I think ye are. I think the angel brought me here, so ye would find me.”
Callan’s “Mayhap” stuck in his throat at the suggestion. Had Fia led Thea into the forest because she wanted him to find the wee lassie?
And then he wasn’t thinking at all, because the girl had reached out and taken his hand, pulling herself to her feet, and he saw her fully for the first time.
As the blanket pooled around her, he saw that her dress was of good quality, but ragged and dirty. She—and her mother?—had fallen on hard times, whoever they’d once been. But it wasn’t her dress that caught his attention. It wasn’t her pixie-face, or her hair, or the way her hands gripped a walking stick, the twin to the one behind him at the base of the hill.
Nay, ’twas her feet. They were turned in, covered not in sturdy boots, but with rags wrapped around simple slippers. His gaze took in the way Thea rested her weight on the stick and realized the truth. The holes beside the track he’d followed had been made by these sticks, which she used as crutches of sorts as she walked.
But more than that… Callan sucked in a breath as he slowly rose to his full height. “’Tis ye.”
Her gaze was wary. “What?”
She was the lassie in his dream. The one he’d lifted and spun, the one who’d laughed with him.
The one who’d share his future.
He’d wondered how he would acquire a child so much older than Adam, and at that moment, Callan still wasn’t certain. But he knew this lassie, this Thea, would be his.
Dazed, he shook his head, unsure how to explain. He took a step forward and reached for her hands. They were small and bony atop the stick, and as he pulled one into his hold, he saw her shift her weight to stand more comfortably.
As he rubbed the small, frigid hand between his, he felt a warmth seep up his arm. Was she feeling the same? He hoped so. Because at that moment, Callan knew he’d do whatever it took to keep this wee sprite safe and happy.
She’d be part of his future, he knew it.
“Never mind, lassie,” he whispered, smiling. “Ye ken, I think ye’re right about that angel. I think that angel led ye here.” And he’d bless Fia each and every evening for such a gift. “I think she was telling us both we were meant to find one another.”
Thea grinned, her lips tugging upward impishly, making her look even more like a pixie. Adam was going to adore her, Callan knew.
“We didnae find one another, milord. Ye found me!”
“Aye, so I did,” he chuckled, “thanks to that angel. But call me Callan, aright?” Mayhap one day, she’d call him Da.
Thea grinned again, her cheeks flushed with happiness. Without dropping her hand, Callan bent to retrieve her blanket, and when he straightened, he stepped closer to wrap it around her shoulders. ’Twas impossible with one hand, so he tucked her now-warm hand against her stick and reached around her to pull the blanket close. He knew he had to get her back to the keep and warm her. But what of the mysterious mother.
“Timothea!”
The call came from behind him, along with a rattle of gravel. Callan whirled, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword as he widened his stance to protect the lassie behind him.
The woman had just reached the bottom of the incline—without falling—and bent to swipe up the girl’s walking stick as she ran by. She hoisted it over her shoulder like a club as she hurtled across the hollow, terror stark in her eyes.
“Get away from her, ye bastard!” she shrieked as she swung the stick for his head.
Callan stepped forward and grabbed the piece of wood before it could make contact, grunting at the force she’d put behind it. Her momentum halted suddenly, she stumbled and tried to jerk the stick from his grasp, but he didn’t give her the chance.
Instead, he stepped forward,