“If we can actually get back. And if he believes it. And if he keeps his word.”
His word. Kind of. But Ian wouldn’t elaborate on Kelbrue’s exact wording. He was going with his gut on this one.
“We will.”
Grey smiled finally. But his smile was strained.
“What is it?” Something was wrong.
“You left before Alastair could finish his story. And then you were with Màiri . . .”
“Grey,” he warned.
“Mom has gone home.”
He stared, openmouthed.
“They got the cross back. When word of another brother, you, reached Lochlavine . . . you were the last of us. Rhys and Reik knew you’d have the cross.”
No. Mom, no. I was so close to seeing her.
“They sent her back to be with Dad.”
Ian could see his brother’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear him. Mom was no longer in Scotland. She’d gone back. He would not see her when Rhys and Reik arrived.
“Ian, do you hear me? When they get here, we’ll all go back. We’ll all be together.”
He nodded, pretending to be okay.
“It’ll all be fine. And with Kelbrue, I suppose it’s as good as we can manage. If Ross couldn’t convince him . . .”
“No one could.”
As Grey thought about his reassurance, Ian held himself back. He was supposed to care about this war, for Mom’s sake. But all he could think about was how he wouldn’t be reunited with her. “So it’s done?”
“Yep.”
“OK, then.”
His chest swelled with pride. It felt good to have finally done something right after the whole unexpected wedding hiccup. “OK, then.”
He started walking again. Grey followed.
“You never answered me,” his brother said, because of course he couldn’t have let it lie. “Why not just let him witness the whole thing himself? Why rely on Màiri to convince him?”
Ian stared straight ahead, not wanting to see Grey’s expression.
“He’s kind of a religious man.”
“And?”
He swallowed.
“And. There’s a possibility—remote I think, but still a possibility . . .” Ian cleared his throat, delaying his answer.
“He might insist she stay with you,” Grey guessed.
However slight that possibility might be, it was still there.
