Page 2 of Taming the Highland Misfits

“I have tae be, lass. This is very hard work.” He laughed and Isla giggled, feeling a little self-conscious.

“What are you making with that bit of iron?” she asked curiously.

“I dinnae know,” he replied, shrugging. “I only prepare the metal for the blacksmith. He will use this tae make whatever he likes.”

“Do you make horseshoes?” she asked.

“I am learnin’ tae make them,” Finley replied. “Maybe in a wee while I will be good enough tae make them on my own.” He smiled at her and Isla’s whole face lit up in a beaming grin.

“When you are good enough to make horseshoes, can you make bracelets too?” she asked shyly. “Can you make one for me?”

He thought for a moment, then smiled at her again. “It might take me a wee while longer tae learn tae make jewellery, wee miss, but as soon as I’m good enough I will make ye one. I dinnae want tae give ye anythin’ that isnae perfect.”

“Thank you,” Isla went over and hugged him joyfully, then watched as he picked up another sheet of metal and went to work again. She stood for a long time observing him, fascinated by his big hands as one wielded the hammer and the other steadied the metal.

After he had finished flattening the next sheet, Finley stood up to stretch his back again and realised that Isla had moved back to where their mothers were sitting and was talking to them earnestly.

He went to fetch himself a cup of ale and then sat to rest for a while, looking thoughtfully at the big chestnut tree that partially overshadowed the square. It was spring, and the tree was just beginning to acquire the big, flamboyant blossoms that would turn into enormous horse chestnuts in the autumn. Then the winter would steal all its coat of red and gold autumn leaves away and leave it nothing but a skeleton, to awaken again in the spring and start the cycle over again.

Finley loved that tree. It had always been part of his life, and his favourite part of the day was when he laid his tools down in the evening and sat to rest his back against it. He wished he could do so now, but it was still only noon and he had a whole afternoon and evening’s work to do. He sighed, stood up and walked over to his mother, smiling at her.

“Isla wants me tae make her a bracelet,” he announced, his lips twitching in a slight smile.

Agnes laughed softly. “She is such a wee sweetheart,” she observed, watching as the little girl sat down beside the big tree and began to talk to some local girls. In spite of her cultured accent, Isla had been accepted by the tradesmen’s daughters in the town, and now had a wide circle of friends.

Finley sat down and began to eat the bread, cheese and sausage Agnes had made him for his midday meal. He was ravenous. When he was finished, he stood up and stretched again then picked up his hammer and went back to work. It was just another day.

* * *

A few moments later, Isla ran back to her mother. “Mother,” Isla said impatiently, pulling Edina’s skirts to gain her attention.

Edina frowned and interrupted her discussion with Agnes to turn to her daughter. “Isla, it is very rude to break into a conversation,” she told her. “What is it?”

Isla shifted from foot to foot for a moment then looked at Agnes. “Auntie Agnes, will Finley get married when he’s a bit older?”

Agnes smiled at the little girl kindly. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. “I suppose he will, lass,” she answered, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Isla’s ear.

“Do you think he would marry me?” she asked, her face perfectly serious.

For a moment, Agnes was taken aback as she looked into Isla’s wide, innocent eyes. Her first impulse had been to laugh out loud, but as she saw the sincerity in her little face she smiled.

“Well, ye never know, lass,” she replied. “Ye might, but ye will meet plenty o’ other lads. But who knows? We’ll see.”

She looked at Edina, who was also struggling to keep a straight face. Both knew that a marriage between their two children could never take place due to the enormous social divide between them. However, Isla’s innocence was touching and charming, and neither wanted to be the one to shatter her illusions.

Suddenly, they heard an enormous bang coming from the direction of the tavern behind them. They all turned just in time to see an empty beer barrel being tossed against the wall of the well in the middle of the square. It split down one side but began to roll down the street nevertheless. Finley rushed out of the forge and stopped it by lifting it up, whereupon it promptly fell to pieces.

However, their attention was drawn to the sight of the two men who had tumbled out of the door of the tavern. They were roaring and bawling at each other, jabbing their fingers into each other’s chests and yelling into each other’s faces.

Robert Thomson, was one of the combatants. The other was the tavern owner, Alec Crawford; a tall, wiry, and powerful man whose anger was like a thunderstorm rolling in.

Isla watched the two men, transfixed with horror. She had often seen animals fighting, but never two men. She found it extremely frightening, especially when one of them was her own father. She heard words that she had never heard before, and was enraged when her mother put her hands over her ears to stop her listening. She tried to shake Edina off as she carried on watching her father, who was now punching the other man in the face and roaring with rage, but her mother was a little too strong for her.

He was not having things all his own way, though. Alec Crawford was fighting back fiercely, and hooked his leg around Robert’s, then dragged it backwards, causing her father to fall onto the street. He lay there stunned for a moment before struggling to his feet.

Finley watched for a moment, assessing the situation, before instinctively dropping his tools and running towards Isla, his mother, and Edina. The situation was becoming dangerous; everyone could see that the two men had been drinking, and both of them were out of control.

“Get yourselves out o’ here,” he said grimly. He lifted Isla into his arms and placed her in front of Edina on her horse. He and his mother retreated inside the forge and waited until the battle between the two men had finished.