Kerr was bad, there was no question about that, but he had not been in the beginning, not even with her, a child he knew was not his. She suspected some money had changed hands for him to marry her mother and take her away, take her where no one her family knew well could see her shame. Yet he had not been like he was now. He hit, but rarely. Perhaps some of his anger came from living with a woman who forever dreamed of another man. Her mother had given him no chance to reach her.
Now you never knew when he would strike or why. Now he was silent and cold and they all waited for something to happen. He had not said a word about the stone on the grave next to her mother or the replanted bushes that now thrived. That had surprised all of them. Every night he slipped away and most nights returned drunk. What was he doing? She could think of no reason for him to be disappearing into the village so often.
She looked at Colin who was now almost completely healed with few obvious bruises. He had been such a mess even when he began working again. She still could not understand how nothing could be broken but silently thanked God for that gift. His ribs had been badly bruised though, causing him a lot of pain. He did not even look at Kerr now, treating the man as if he were not even there. Bethoc feared for him each time Kerr was home. She thought the other boys did as well, for they answered Kerr far too quickly when he asked something.
“Ah, ye are thinking of your mon,” said Colin as he sat down beside her.
“I dinnae have a mon,” she muttered and the tingle of a blush rushed over her face as the other boys laughed.
“Mayhap I should go to see this mon ye say ye dinnae have.”
“Nay. It wouldnae be a good idea to have too many people going to the cave. Too great a chance of someone seeing us. He isnae healed enough to face the men who attacked him and they are looking for him.”
“It has been a long time.”
“Eleven weeks.” And she had missed him, only able to make fleeting visits because of her worry about Colin and then her concern that her father may have dragged them into something very dangerous.
“That isnae good, is it?” Bean asked as he sat down on her other side. “Shouldnae he be better?”
“Oh, he is better, but hedidbreak his leg. The bone needs to heal.” She frowned. “And I promised him I had something better to put on his leg. I really need to do that.” She stood up. “I think I actually have the time today.”
“Leave wee Margaret here. She is having fun and I can watch o’er her,” said Colin.
Bethoc was about to refuse the offer when Margaret smiled at Colin. If the child was happy to stay, perhaps it really was time to loosen the ties a little bit. There was no doubt in her mind that Colin would keep Margaret safe from their father. He had proven himself already.
She nodded and went to collect her things. Bethoc selected the carefully cut slats of wood and stuffed the long cloth strips into her bag. For a moment she paused to test the weight of the wood to be certain it was as light as she had imagined. Satisfied, she shoved them into the bag as well and then began to load up a basket with food. That was something she was sure he was running out of.
After making certain her father was not returning, she hurried away. This time there was no sign that his friends had been there and yet she suspected they had been. She was embarrassed to admit that over the last weeks she had not taken the time to ask about them.
Once at the cave, she slipped inside, covered the entrance, and turned to look at Callum. He grinned at her and she was immediately suspicious. There was an air of mischievousness about him. She walked over, put down her things, and then sat down next to him.
“No Margaret?” he asked.
“Colin is watching her again. He is finally weel enough to manage her e’en when she is playing so he doesnae e’en have to get any of the others to help him.”
“Ah, so all healed.”
“The last bruise I was concerned about has faded away.” She touched her forehead just above her right eye. “I feared it could prove worse than his badly bruised ribs.”
“Aye, ’tis a bad place to be wounded. So ye can stay longer this time?”
“I have come to redo your bandages. I was just wondering why ye look so pleased with yourself.”
“I made my friends fetch me a lot of water and had myself as proper a bath as ye can have with only buckets to work with.”
“Ye didnae get your bandages all wet, did ye?”
“Nay so I suspicion it is a wee bit rank under there.” He grimaced. “It was a sore temptation to just rip them all off and scrub it but I resisted.”
“Thank mercy for that.” She pulled the boards and strips of cloth out of her bag. “Ye best sit verra still for these though it shouldnae hurt at all.”
She took off the sticks and carefully unwrapped his leg. When she removed the last of the bandages, she studied his leg for a moment and then gently bathed it. As she patted it dry she took the chance to feel the bone.
“I dinnae feel any sign of the break,” she said. “’Tis staying in place and that can only be a good sign. I think we may be close to it being completely healed.”
“It is looking a wee bit withered and pale,” he said, grimacing at the difference between it and his unbroken leg.
“Aye, and will probably be quite weak for a while e’en after it heals.”
