family tradition. Hell, the Spanish ships
coming back from the New World were just bulging with silver and
gold. They were plums waiting to be picked.
He simply couldn’t allow any woman to interfere with
plans like those. Even if she were beautiful and mysterious.
By the time Colin returned to the priory carrying a
stack of driftwood, his mind was clear and his resolve set. No
attachment. No attraction. No worrying about her, or even going
after her again should she choose to hide. She had obviously been
surviving perfectly well before his arrival. She would continue on
just as well after he left.
Colin’s resolve, though, only lasted until he came
up the stairs and found her missing. Her bed was neatened. The fire
was burning nicely. Some of her blankets were missing, though.
“Bloody hell!” he muttered to himself. “Don’t tell
me you’ve run off again?”
Colin dropped the load and went out, his resolve
obliterated in an instant.
All he knew was that he had to find her.
Protected from the worst of the wind in the yard
between the crumbling stone walls of the ruined church and the
ancient cemetery, Tess moved quickly among the sheep. Beyond the
low cemetery wall, a nanny goat stood watching the proceedings
suspiciously.
From the first moment Tess had noticed the lameness
in a few of the sheep and had discovered the cracks and abrasions
between their toes, she had used the direct method that Garth
always used to treat the flock. Move them to higher ground and
spread the salve that he had taught her to make on the feet of any
sheep that might be developing the condition. And after three weeks
of it, she was happy to see that they were finally responding to
the treatment.
The cutting drafts of wind that snaked into the yard
were still cold, but the sky was brightening. Glancing up, she
thought that the sun might even break through before long.
Kneeling among the sheep, Tess finished rubbing the
salve on another of the animals’ feet. As soon as the ewe was
turned loose, she butted and pushed her way into a safe place
amidst the rest of the flock.
Tess looked about her in search of her last patient.
She found the pregnant ewe standing alone and watching her warily
from the cemetery wall. “Come here, Makyn.”
The ewe pawed the ground gently.
“You’ve been talking to the nanny goat, haven’t
you?”
Makyn looked away.
“Come here, good mother. This is the last time we’ll
be doing this.” Tess spoke softly and took a small handful of oats
from a pocket in her dress. When she held it out, the ewe still
refused to look at her.
“Getting a wee bit of your own treatment, I
see.”
Tess felt her pulse quicken at the sound of the
Highlander’s voice, and she cursed her own treacherous heart. He
was leaning over the cemetery wall and looking with interest at the
potions at her feet.
“Well,” he said with a glint in his eye. “From
personal experience I can say that if she doesn’t want anything to
do with that poisonous brew, I don’t blame her.”
“She is just not feeling well today. Otherwise she
would come.” A breeze, riffling through his long hair, tugged at
the ends of his tartan. The blue of his eyes this morning were a
sure match for any summer sky. She tore her gaze away from his
handsome face and stared at the ewe. “Come, Makyn.”
The sheep edged a little down the wall toward Colin.
Tess pushed herself to her feet.
“Stay where you are,” Colin said. “I’ll bring her to
you.”
“Do you know about tending sheep?”
“I’ve never had any interest in the silly creatures,
to be honest. The women tend them where I come from.” He jumped
nimbly over the wall. “Never looked very difficult, though.”
Tess bit her tongue and sat back on her heels. Just
as she’d expected, as soon as he approached, Makyn scurried
away.
“Hold there, ewe,” he ordered. “I’m not the one with
the poison potion.”
Makyn bleated loudly and ran frantically toward the
rest of
coming back from the New World were just bulging with silver and
gold. They were plums waiting to be picked.
He simply couldn’t allow any woman to interfere with
plans like those. Even if she were beautiful and mysterious.
By the time Colin returned to the priory carrying a
stack of driftwood, his mind was clear and his resolve set. No
attachment. No attraction. No worrying about her, or even going
after her again should she choose to hide. She had obviously been
surviving perfectly well before his arrival. She would continue on
just as well after he left.
Colin’s resolve, though, only lasted until he came
up the stairs and found her missing. Her bed was neatened. The fire
was burning nicely. Some of her blankets were missing, though.
“Bloody hell!” he muttered to himself. “Don’t tell
me you’ve run off again?”
Colin dropped the load and went out, his resolve
obliterated in an instant.
All he knew was that he had to find her.
Protected from the worst of the wind in the yard
between the crumbling stone walls of the ruined church and the
ancient cemetery, Tess moved quickly among the sheep. Beyond the
low cemetery wall, a nanny goat stood watching the proceedings
suspiciously.
From the first moment Tess had noticed the lameness
in a few of the sheep and had discovered the cracks and abrasions
between their toes, she had used the direct method that Garth
always used to treat the flock. Move them to higher ground and
spread the salve that he had taught her to make on the feet of any
sheep that might be developing the condition. And after three weeks
of it, she was happy to see that they were finally responding to
the treatment.
The cutting drafts of wind that snaked into the yard
were still cold, but the sky was brightening. Glancing up, she
thought that the sun might even break through before long.
Kneeling among the sheep, Tess finished rubbing the
salve on another of the animals’ feet. As soon as the ewe was
turned loose, she butted and pushed her way into a safe place
amidst the rest of the flock.
Tess looked about her in search of her last patient.
She found the pregnant ewe standing alone and watching her warily
from the cemetery wall. “Come here, Makyn.”
The ewe pawed the ground gently.
“You’ve been talking to the nanny goat, haven’t
you?”
Makyn looked away.
“Come here, good mother. This is the last time we’ll
be doing this.” Tess spoke softly and took a small handful of oats
from a pocket in her dress. When she held it out, the ewe still
refused to look at her.
“Getting a wee bit of your own treatment, I
see.”
Tess felt her pulse quicken at the sound of the
Highlander’s voice, and she cursed her own treacherous heart. He
was leaning over the cemetery wall and looking with interest at the
potions at her feet.
“Well,” he said with a glint in his eye. “From
personal experience I can say that if she doesn’t want anything to
do with that poisonous brew, I don’t blame her.”
“She is just not feeling well today. Otherwise she
would come.” A breeze, riffling through his long hair, tugged at
the ends of his tartan. The blue of his eyes this morning were a
sure match for any summer sky. She tore her gaze away from his
handsome face and stared at the ewe. “Come, Makyn.”
The sheep edged a little down the wall toward Colin.
Tess pushed herself to her feet.
“Stay where you are,” Colin said. “I’ll bring her to
you.”
“Do you know about tending sheep?”
“I’ve never had any interest in the silly creatures,
to be honest. The women tend them where I come from.” He jumped
nimbly over the wall. “Never looked very difficult, though.”
Tess bit her tongue and sat back on her heels. Just
as she’d expected, as soon as he approached, Makyn scurried
away.
“Hold there, ewe,” he ordered. “I’m not the one with
the poison potion.”
Makyn bleated loudly and ran frantically toward the
rest of
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