Page 30 of In the Highlander's Bed

“What of her prophecy?” Constance asked.

“Her prophecy?” he repeated, and then realizing what she meant, he laughed. “She speaks like that all the time. We’re always going to be flooded, according to her. There’s water in all of our futures.”

Others laughed with him. Someone said, “Except for Brian. His well was dry.”

The younger man waved off the jibe, laughing.

Only Constance frowned, her expression thoughtful. “You don’t believe she has the gift of sight?”

“No,” Gordon assured her. “What she has isthe madness of a woman who lost all her children to a fever. ’Tis said she was not too sensible before, and losing those wee ones did not help her. Her husband left her long ago. We are all she has left. The remains of her family.”

“The Shawnee believe that the mad ones should be respected,” Constance said. “Indians believe those prophecies come true.”

Gordon shrugged. “We respect Maggie,” he assured her. “We just don’tlistento her when she’s speaking gibberish, and that is all it is. Now go with the Reivers.”

He nodded for Robbie to carry on before turning to Thomas and Brian. Thomas stood with one arm draped around Grace McEachin. Over to the side, Hannah Chisholm stood frowning. Thomas adored being fought over, and in a camp where women outnumbered men, he often had his wish—although he’d developed a strong fondness for Grace.

Gordon said, “After I’ve seen to my horse, I’ll write the letter to Colster. Brian, rest up. Once I have it written, you shall be my messenger.”

“Yes, Gordon,” Brian answered.

Snapping his fingers for Tad to follow, Gordon led Tempest to the far side of the camp. They’d set up stables there, roping off paddocks for the grazing of fifty or so horses.

Gordon usually groomed his horse himself. Back at Nathraichean, Laird MacKenna had lived a lord’s life. There had even been servants for the servants. At the time, Gordon had questioned the need for so many attendants, but he’d kept those questions to himself, until MacKenna betrayed them all. The laird had stolen what money the clan had and run off to Italy to save his hide from the English, leaving the rest of them to pay the price. Even innocents, like Fiona.

So, Gordon no longer trusted those who thought of power and money. He took care of his own horse, his own clothes, his own wants. In turn, these tasks gave him quiet moments alone to worry over the hungry mouths that needed to be fed…and the fear that his little army would be crushed by the English.

Gordon dropped Tempest’s reins to the ground. The horse stood while he removed the saddle. Tad plopped down on the ground with a wide yawn. A flock of birds flapped into the sky, chased by another of the many dogs in the camp. Tad stood, but didn’t chase.

“Go on,” Gordon said, knowing the wolfhound would enjoy the exercise.

Tad flashed a dog grin in his direction and took off after the others, sailing across theground, his powerful legs easily catching up with them.

Tempest was happy to see him go and nudged Gordon as a way of showing his approval. He gave his horse a rare flake of hay. Tempest had carried two riders and earned the treat.

While he worked, Gordon started to frame in his mind the letter he would write to Colster. He was interrupted a few minutes later by the approach of two men, one as tall as the other was short. Tall Angus was a leather worker. Matthew was known for his incessant complaining.

“We need to talk to you, Gordon,” Angus said. “Matthew is not paying me for repairing his shoes last week.”

“Repairing them?” Matthew repeated. “Look here, Gordon. I’d do better work if my hands were all thumbs. I’ll not pay for what the man hasn’t earned.”

These were petty grievances, but they could split the clan apart if not addressed. Gordon wanted to hand this task of listening to complaints to someone else, but so far none of his men showed either the talent or patience for it. The few times he had given the task away, it ended in disaster.

“Do the repair again, Angus,” he said withheavy sigh. “And pay him half before he starts,” he told Matthew. “If not, then you both lose.”

“Yes, but—” Matthew started.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Gordon said, cutting him off. “You came to me for my verdict and there it is. Be done. And, Angus, you know how Matthew is. Don’t do anything for him if you don’t want to hear him complain.”

“Aye, Gordon,” Angus agreed. He turned and left. He wasn’t happy with the verdict. It meant more work for him.

“He’s lousy at what he does,” Matthew had to grumble.

“You hired him,” Gordon answered.

Not liking the response, Matthew stomped away.

Gordon looked at Tempest, who had watched it all while munching his dinner. “They are both fools.”