"Aye."
The side of the stone byre sheltered them from the worst of the wind. "I cannot believe my father is gone. Did he suffer?" Dirk asked.
"Nay. He did not seem in much pain. 'Twas his heart, the healer said." Conall shook his head.
"Is Nannag still the healer?"
"Aye. Still spunky as a pup, although her hearing is going."
"Saints, she must be at least a hundred."
Conall nodded with a faint grin. "Around eighty or ninety summers, I'd say. But her mind is still sharp."
"She's trustworthy, is she not? My stepmother wouldn't have coerced her into speeding up Da's death, would she?"
"Nay, I don't think so, lad. Maighread seemed to care for your da. It wouldn't have benefited her or their sons to murder him. Aiden is only twenty-one summers, barely old enough to be a decent chief. Griff and Maighread both figured he'd struggle with it."
Dirk nodded. That gave him some peace, that his stepmother wouldn't have wanted his Da dead as she did him. Apparently he was the only one she had it in for.
"Griff was ne'er the same after he believed you died," Conall said. "You see, he wouldn't believe you had truly died for weeks because your body wasn't found washed up on shore. Finally, he accepted that you must be dead, then he blamed himself."
Dirk felt as if a boulder crushed his chest. The last thing he'd meant to do was hurt his father. "Did you tell him who you suspected of killing Cousin Will?" Will was the son of his father's middle brother, and Dirk's best friend during his youth. They were near inseparable, until Maighread's man had shoved him from the cliff.
"I hinted." Conall nodded. "But I couldn't outright accuse her without proof. Besides, I suspect she has several clan members working for her."
"Well, as you ken, she tried to kill me twice before that and he never believed me." In a way, he'd felt betrayed by his father because he'd trusted his wife over his own son.
"'Tis beyond my ken what he saw in the woman," Conall muttered. "He loved her to distraction. And though his heart wasn't in it, he had the men begin training your two younger brothers to follow in his footsteps."
"Both of them?"
"Aye, as you know, Aiden is the eldest but he was e'er a timid child. Your father was unsure of his ability to lead the clan. Haldane is younger but he has a much more forceful nature. 'Tis clear to me he wants to be chief despite being only nineteen summers. About half of the clan would support him if he should decide to oust Aiden, but he holds a fondness for his older brother. I don't believe he wants to hurt him. If Aiden were to relinquish the position, Haldane would take it. But you see, most of the clan elders support Aiden as the oldest son, the most canny and level-headed. And now that you are here…" His uncle shrugged.
"Aye. Now that I'm here… I know not if they will even believe 'tis truly me."
"How can they doubt it? Now that you're grown, I see much of your father in you."
Dirk was glad for that. He'd always been proud that he resembled his father. But he wasn't sure what kind of reception he'd get from the clan, resemblance or no.
"There's still a bit of time to think on it. Are you hungry?"
"Aye." His stomach ached, though he wasn't sure whether from hunger or anxiety.
"Let's go inside."
Dirk preceded him into the cottage that had not changed since the last time he was here. Two of Conall's younger sons and three of his daughters greeted Dirk as he entered. Saints! They'd all been wee bairns the last time he saw them.
"You've all grown up. Where is Keegan?" Conall's eldest son had always been a good friend to Dirk.
"He's head of the guards at the castle."
"I see." That was an impressive position, and Dirk was glad someone he trusted held it.
Squeezing his large frame between Rebbie and another male cousin, he sat across from Isobel. She had removed the cowl covering her rich sable hair, which was down loose on her shoulders. Her bewitching eyes met his in the candlelight and a startling sensation shot through him from his chest to his groin.
What in blazes was wrong with him? He lowered his gaze to the trencher heaped with food that Aunt Effie set before him. "I thank you," he mumbled.
"Eat up. You're a growing lad and you need your strength."
"Growing? I hope not." Only his aunt would say such a thing. Warmth filled his chest at being back amongst his family again. "I'm fair certain I've grown enough."
Rebbie snorted. "You have the right of it."
"No comments are needed from you," Dirk said to Rebbie, his gaze drawn to Isobel again.
She held back a grin, humor lighting her eyes. Damnation, but she was lovely. He could scarce look away, but forced himself to concentrate on the food.