His wife.

She had not only brought joy to him, she brought something much more… hope. Something he hadn’t felt in years.

Sara smiled as soon as she saw her grandson, her one arm reaching out to him with some difficulty.

Slatter hurried to her side, taking her frail hand, and sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her pale cheek. “You are safe here, Seanmhair. You have nothing to fear.”

She shook her head and her smile quickly dissolved.

“Aye, you are safe,” Slatter assured her, wanting to chase the fear he saw rush up in her eyes that had aged through the years, lines framing them and wisdom buried deep in them.

Sara tried to speak but coughed instead and Willow quickly grabbed a goblet, off the small table, filled with a chamomile brew, to hand to her husband.

Slatter slipped his hand beneath his grandmother’s head and held the goblet to her lips to drink. He was surprised and pleased with how much she drank. Before he placed her head back on the pillow, Willow braced another pillow beneath Sara’s head.

The old woman smiled her thanks.

Slatter took his wife’s hand. “This is my wife, Willow, Seanmhair. She is a healer and tends you well.”

“Beautiful,” Sara said with a smile stronger than either Slatter or Willow expected.

“I am so pleased to meet you and tend to your care. With rest and some healing brews, you will do well. I look forward to talking with you about your grandson.”

“Many tales to tell,” Sara said with a soft chuckle.

“That’s not fair, two against one,” Slatter complained playfully.

His grandmother slipped her hand out of his and held up two fingers, then pointed one finger at Slatter. “Protecting one.”

His grandmother had always been there for him, had always listened to him, and had never preached to him. She had advised one thing over and over… heed your thoughts and your words, they make you who you are.

“I protect you now, Seanmhair,” he said.

Her eyes went wide. “Not safe.”

He was about to assure her that she was safe when she pointed to him.

“Not safe,” she said, jabbing her finger toward Slatter.

Slatter took her hand and leaned down as he brought it to his lips to kiss. “It’s all right. I understand. You feel it’s me who’s not safe.”

She nodded.

“Did the man who caused you harm come looking for me?” he asked, trying to keep his rising anger out of his voice.

Sara nodded again.

“He wanted to know where I was?”

Another nod gave him the answer and his temper flared even more. The man who had stolen his identity had caused her suffering and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on him.

Sara gave barely a shrug, her eyes starting to flutter with sleep.

He knew what she tried to tell him. What she told the ones who harmed her. She didn’t know where he was. He visited when he wanted, but where he went when he left her, she never knew, and he had purposely kept it that way. He hadn’t wanted her to know what he did.