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“WHY DID THEY have to send us Father Gregor?”

“No, idea … I suppose he offered himself for the position. He’s young and eager to make his mark.”

Rose snorted and cast Eara Mackay a sidelong glance. “Aye, as well as pompous.”

Her friend laughed. “All the same, he’s attractive … for a man of the cloth.”

“I suppose so.” Rose screwed up her face then. “Although ye should have seen the way he kept staring at my paps when I met him on the way into the kirk … it was unpriestly.”

Eara’s grey eyes snapped wide. “Ye caught him ogling yer paps?”

“I didn’t have to catch him at it, Eara. He was blatant.”

“Ye should have scolded him!”

Rose sighed. “Aye … I’m sure ye would have.”

Eara’s forthright manner was one of the many things she liked about her. Widowed nearly three years now, Eara’s slender figure, flyaway tawny hair, and pretty face had fooled a few suitors into thinking she’d be easy to dominate. But she wasn’t.

“Men don’t ogle my chest,” Eara muttered, glancing down at her breasts. “Unlike ye, I wasn’t blessed in that area.”

“I’m not sure it’s a blessing,” Rose replied. “It just gets me the wrong sort of attention.”

In response, Eara pulled a face. Rose then stuck out her tongue, and the pair of them started laughing. The merry sound echoed across the road.

The two friends walked the way that led along the coast from Ceann Locha to Dun Ugadale. They were returning from visiting the morning market. Together, they pulled a handcart laden with sacks of barley for the ale that the alewife brewed.

Usually, Rose only assisted Eara in the mornings, but she needed help to tow the heavy cart today. It was mid-afternoon, and their destination was near. To the north, they now spied the craggy outline of the Dun Ugadale broch against a windswept sky.

“Did ye see the way Maisie was flirting with the priest?” Eara asked, breaking the companionable silence.

“I’d have to be blind not to. Everyone saw.”

“Do ye think she hopes to warm his bed?”

“Eara!” Rose gasped. “She’s old enough to be his mother.”

Her friend giggled, waggling her eyebrows. “That’s never stopped folk before.”

A loud graunching sound intruded then, and the handcart they were pulling shuddered. Glancing over her shoulder, Rose saw that the wooden wagon had listed sideways.

“God’s teeth,” Eara muttered, her light-hearted mood dissolving. She stalked around to the side to see what the problem was. “The cursed wheel has come off its axle.”

Rose breathed an oath of her own and drew near to inspect the damage. “How did that happen?”

“James built this cart years ago,” Eara replied. As always, when she mentioned her dead husband’s name, her voice flattened. “But I don’t think he ever serviced it … how am I going to get those sacks of barley home now?”

Rose didn’t reply immediately, for she didn’t have a solution either. The sacks were too heavy for either of them to carry. “We can’t leave them out here, or someone will help themselves,” she pointed out finally. “I shall go to the village and find someone to help.”

Eara nodded. “Aye, ye could try—”

The thunder of hoofbeats interrupted Eara, and both women shifted their gazes right to where two men on horseback approached at a swift canter from the south.

Rose’s stomach clenched when she caught a flash of white-blond hair.

Kerr Mackay.

The captain drew his courser up next to the bailiff. Both men’s gazes swept over the listing handcart before the bailiff cocked an eyebrow. “Having some trouble, lasses?”

Eara placed her hands on her hips and eyed him. “Evidently.”

Kyle MacAlister smiled, his teeth flashing white against his short beard. “It’s always a pleasure to cross paths with ye, Eara.”

The widow’s pretty mouth pursed, making it clear she wasn’t charmed by his easy manner. “Aye, well, I wish I could say the same. However, the only time ye knock on my door is to demand coin.”

Kyle’s smile slid into a grin. “That can be remedied,” he replied. “I’m happy to pass by and try some of that fine ale ye brew.”

“Aye, do that … although it’ll cost ye.”

“Good afternoon, Rose.”

Rose glanced away from watching her friend and the bailiff banter, to find Kerr watching her. His expression was serious, although his gaze was intense. It reminded her of the way he’d looked at her in the kirk a couple of days earlier.

Rose frowned. Perhaps he thought their brief exchange meant she was warming to him. She wasn’t—and she’d make it clear.

“It was .” Folding her arms across her chest, she held his eye. “Busy afternoon is it, Captain? Wringing more coin out of those who don’t have any to give?”

Kerr’s brow furrowed. “It’s not a pleasant task, lass,” he replied, “But rents have to be paid, all the same.”

“Aye,” she growled. “Of course, they do.”

She wished the men would ride on. The sight of them was a jab in the eye.

But, of course, they were never going to do that, and both the bailiff and the captain swung down from their horses to come to their aid.

Kyle hunkered down, inspecting the wheel, before picking up something out of the dirt. “Looks like the pin came loose,” he said, winking at Eara. He then nodded to his companion. “Lift the cart up, Kerr, and let’s see if I can slide the wheel back on and secure it.”

Kerr nodded and moved to the back of the handcart, readying himself to heft it up.

“Mind yer back,” Eara warned him. “It’s heavy.”

To Rose’s surprise, Kerr’s mouth curved into a rare and unexpected smile.

The expression lit up his face. The smile wasn’t for her, although to her chagrin, the sight of it made Rose’s heart thump against her ribs.

“Luckily, I had my porridge this morning, lass,” he replied. “Fear not, I can manage it.”

And he did. Jaw clenched, Kerr hauled the cart upright, holding it while Kyle slid the wheel back into place and replaced the pin.

“Looks as if the axle’s got some rust,” the bailiff said to Eara, straightening up and brushing off his hands. “I’d get that looked at if I were ye.”

“I will,” she assured him, her mouth lifting at the edges as she met the bailiff’s eye. “Thank ye.”

He gave a bow before flashing another of his easy smiles. “My pleasure.”

Eara shifted her attention to Kerr. “My thanks to ye too, Captain.”

Kerr nodded, even as a groove appeared between his brows. “Just a warning,” he replied quietly. “The outlaws are still at large … and they grow increasingly bold.” His gaze flicked to Rose. “I’d be wary of straying too far from the village these days.”

Rose didn’t answer, and an awkward pause drew out before Eara cleared her throat. “Very well, we appreciate ye telling us, Captain.”

Remembering her manners, Rose forced herself to add, “Aye … thank ye.”

Inclining his head, Kerr moved back to his horse and mounted. Kyle followed suit.

“Perhaps I will pass by and purchase some ale one day, Eara,” the bailiff said then with another warm smile. “I hear ye brew it better than yer late husband.”

Eara nodded, although her expression was veiled now. “I do.”

The bailiff and the captain urged their horses forward then, departing with a nod to the women. Moments later, the horses quickened their pace to a canter, leaving them behind.

Watching them go, Rose unclenched her hands at her sides.

Next to her, Eara heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, that was fortunate.”

“Aye,” Rose replied weakly. “I suppose so.”

Eara glanced her way. “They were helpful, were they not?”

Rose sighed. She then nodded to the sacks of barley. “Come, let’s get going.” The afternoon was waning; she needed to get back to the farm before her father and brothers did and put supper on.

Moving forward, both women grabbed hold of the rope and resumed towing the handcart along the rutted road.

As they walked, Rose cut Eara a veiled look. “The bailiff seems to have taken a shine to ye now,” she observed.

Eara’s mouth curved in response. “When Kyle MacAlister isn’t collecting rent, he manages to be quite charming.” She paused then, fixing Rose with a penetrating look. “Enough about the bailiff though … what was that between ye and Captain Mackay?”

Rose stiffened. “Nothing.”

“Ye still hate him then?” Eara’s voice took on a wry edge. She was the only person Rose had confided in about what had happened at Samhuinn.

“Aye.”

“It’s a pity. He’s one of the few local men I’d consider a tumble with.” Rose made a choking noise at this, yet Eara blithely continued. “Although I wouldn’t have a chance. It’s ye he wants. The man gazes at ye as if ye were the Virgin Mary herself.”

Rose growled a curse and dug her elbow into her friend’s side. “Wash yer mouth out with soap, Eara Mackay. He does not!”

Eara yelped. “Hades, yer elbow’s sharp. I’ll have a bruise on my ribs tomorrow.”

“Aye, well … it’ll teach ye not to talk rot.”

Rose shot her friend a glare to see Eara was grinning, a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Deny it all ye like, but mark my words. That man’s not done pining for ye.”