After Evelyn—and Alinor and Bonnie and MacKerrick, as well—had partaken of the outdoors quickly, they returned to the hut and sat around the fire pit, eating tender, delicious venison stew and sipping at the mead jug in turn. Alinor and Bonnie had devoured their meals of venison and barley, respectively, in a blink, and Whiskers the mouse’s covering was released for a quick scattering of the dry grain in his bowl.
The hut was cozy and peaceful once more and Evelyn felt oddly gluttonous, her belly being warmed by the rich food and drink and her eyes feasting on the beautiful man across from her.
She was a married woman now. This was her home, her husband, all to herself. That was, until MacKerrick took her to his village.
Town, she corrected herself with a private smile.
“More?” The highlander gestured to her bowl with the ladle and Evelyn held it forth readily.
“Tell me about your home,” she said, bringing the refilled bowl to rest on her chest and tucking into it with contented relish.
MacKerrick flashed his teeth at her as he topped off his own meal. “’Tis a small town,” he said, replacing the lid of the crock and sitting back on his haunches. “Mayhap only a quarter of the size of your own kins’.”
Evelyn knew the kin he spoke of was the Buchanans, and since she had not an inkling of knowledge about Minerva’s clan, the comparison did little to enlighten her. She gave a hum of interest and kept a mild countenance.
The highlander chewed and swallowed. “The MacKerricks have lived in this part of Scotland since days unnumbered. Our town sits north of here, south of Ben Nevis.”
“Ben Nevis?”
“What a poor Scot you are, lass,” he tsked. “The mountain. You can see it in the distance if you journey across yonder bog and look to the east.”
“Ah.” Evelyn blew on the surface of the stew, stirred it lazily. Just the actions of eating and talking felt decadent, and she was enjoying the highlander’s musical brogue. “Your parents? Do they reside with you?”
“Me mam lives with me, aye. And me brother, Dunc. You’ll delight Mam, Eve. She’s as meek as wee Whiskers, but loves a lively debate.” He smiled as if calling the woman to mind. “And she makes the best bannock in Scotland.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Evelyn draped an arm across Alinor’s neck when the wolf lay down near her hip, throwing her wide, black head over Evelyn’s thigh.
MacKerrick continued, casting an indulgent look at the pair. “Me da, he died five years past.” He took another bite of his stew and offered no more.
“Was he ill?”
“Nae,” Conall said around his venison.
“An accident, then?”
The highlander shook his head, shrugged. “He just…died.”
Evelyn frowned. It was a terrible explanation—no explanation at all. “He just died.”
“Aye.” MacKerrick’s expression seemed to tense a bit. “We’d had a…a pair of lean harvests—a drought. Several of the town’s youngest children died. The MacKerrick took it hard.”
“Hmm.” Evelyn was certain there was more to that story than MacKerrick was telling, but she decided not to push him. Perhaps ’twas too painful. “Do you miss him?”
He was silent for several moments, examining the contents of his bowl. “Da took to drink in his last years.” MacKerrick smiled, but it fell short of his eyes. “He was fond of our town’s fine mead.”
It was no explanation either, really, but the words Conall spoke hinted to Eve all that he had left painfully unsaid.
“What of Duncan? He’s your younger brother, I assume.”
“Only by moments, according to Mam.”
Evelyn’s eyebrows rose. “Twins?” How fortunate a town was the MacKerrick, to have two such fine-looking specimens as this man. “’Tis well that we are to spend some time together, then, so that I might be able to tell the two of you apart.”
MacKerrick laughed. “I should hope you can.” His grin remained this time, genuine and jocular. “Duncan is a wee fellow—made like a knobby stick. He’s got more hair on his”—MacKerrick halted himself—“arms, than what graces his pate. And a temper!” He gave low whistle. “Dunc angry is a wet cat in a sack.”
Evelyn laughed. “Obviously the two of you are twin in temperament then, if not in appearance.”
MacKerrick gave her a mock frown. “I’m sure I doona know of what you speak, lass. I’m meek as Bonnie, I am.”
