Page 25

“I sense there is more you have to tell me, Ogden.”

Ogden nodded and took another swallow of ale as if needing to fortify himself before he spoke. “Chieftain Norris and his wife took in three of those unwanted bairns and raised them as their own.”

Slayer took in the shocking news, thinking of what it meant and the possible ramifications. “That would mean the Murdock sisters are not sisters after all.”

“Aye, my lord,” Ogden said, agreeing.

“You are to keep this to yourself, Ogden,” Slayer ordered.

“I have not said a word about it, my lord, nor will I.”

“I will let you know if I need anything more from you,” Slayer said and left the longhouse.

He mounted Skell ready to return to Sky, his thoughts consumed with the startling news and if he should share it with anyone just yet, even Sky. She would have to know sooner or later. But was it better to wait or to tell her?

This news would change so much for her. To find out that her parents are not her true parents, and her sisters are not her true sisters could devastate her. But the news could also offer a plausible reason as to why someone wanted one of the Murdock sisters dead. It was a lead that could possibly help solve the baffling mystery.

Decisions normally came easily and quickly to him, so why he continued to debate whether to tell her the news or to wait as he rode annoyed him.

* * *

Sky stoodwith pride looking over the garden. She had pulled endless weeds that had been stifling the growth of the fresh sprouts and had carefully hoed and raked the entire garden until she got it into pristine shape. It looked wonderful and would produce a good harvest, not that she would have the pleasure of harvesting it. She doubted they would spend the summer here, though she wished otherwise.

The thought saddened her, and she rested the long-handled hoe and rake against the side of the cottage, her task done. Her hands showed the signs of a day well spent in the garden, dirty and blistered, and in need of a good cleaning and gentle care. She could do both at the stream and visiting with her squirrel friends would help her smile to return.

She wasn’t far from the stream when she spotted the doe she had shared the berry bush with earlier now busy munching on a shrub. She hadn’t mentioned to Slayer that the doe carried a fawn and would give birth soon. She intended to keep watch on the doe to see that all went well for her and her newborn fawn or fawns, some does often birth more than one fawn.

Once at the stream, she plunged her hands into the chilly water and cringed, the blisters stinging, though not her wrists. They were healing nicely. As she carefully cleaned the dirt off her hands, her thoughts of the pregnant doe had her thinking that she could very well get pregnant soon herself. If Slayer’s seed took root quickly, she could get with child before summer and deliver a bairn in the winter. The thought amazed and frightened her. She had not given much thought to having a bairn, thinking she would never wed. And no mothers in her clan had ever let her hold their bairns, so she had no experience with newborns. And without her sisters’ help…

“How will I know what to do?” Sky whispered to herself, upset, and removed her hands from the water to dry them gently with the hem of Slayer’s shirt she wore.

She caught the rustle of leaves and turned to see the squirrels nearby, but they did not approach her. They were scurrying up a tree away from her. That meant someone was close by. A sentinel or had Slayer returned?

“Sky!”

She smiled recognizing Slayer’s powerful shout.

“I am by the stream,” she called back.

“What happened to your hands?” Slayer demanded when he reached her and looked down to see them laying palms up in her lap, raw blisters on both.

She glanced up at him and grinned. “Remnants of my garden task.”

She spoke with such pride in her blistered hands that he almost smiled but caught himself when recalling the news that he had yet to decide whether to share with her.

“Those blisters could use some honey,” he said and without asking if she was finished at the stream, he stepped around her, slipped his hands under her arms, and lifted her to her feet.

When first meeting Slayer, she had been eager to look upon his face and when she was finally able to, his stoic expression left no room to know what he thought or felt. It was only recently that she began to catch the slight differences on his face and began to understand them.

Presently, his eyes held concern and hesitancy while his body was taut as if concealing something. He had something on his mind that she surmised he was reluctant to tell her.

That grew her anxious and she said, “You have something to tell me.”

“I have some news,” he said, not surprised by her remark since she knew he went to talk with a man who might have information. But it was not information she would ever expect. “We will talk once in the cottage.”

The walk was a short one, but she grew more anxious with each step, endless worries racing through her mind at what he may have learned.

“Sit and I will get the crock of honey,” he said once inside the cottage.