“What?”
“A sturdy old oak tree. Deep roots, wide branches.” She pointed to the one they were about to pass. “Just like that one.”
“An oak. That isnae so bad. An old gnarled one or a nice straight proud one, standing tall.”
“The latter, of course.” She rolled her eyes over his training. “A sturdy big oak and nay sure about the age. And I willnae go about sniffing them in order to make sure which kind matches your scent.”
He laughed. “Mayhap ye just need to sniff a lot of things.”
She was about to tell him just what she thought of that, when it struck her that it was not such a stupid idea. It actually made sense. There was no need to be obvious, something that would undoubtedly have people thinking she was insane. Yet, she could still take the time to breathe in the scent of things as she came across them. She had thought on it before but never actually gotten around to doing anything about it in any serious way. It might mean pausing now and then, but it would help her to better use what she could do. What a person smelled like meant something and she needed to widen her knowledge so that she could better judge what certain smells meant. Bethoc decided Callum did not need to know all that, however.
“Boys? See boys?”
Bethoc looked down at a now wide-awake Margaret and smiled. “Aye, Margaret. We are going to see Colin and Bean and maybe Magnus.”
“Good.”
Stroking Margaret’s hair, Bethoc frowned. The child used a lot more words than she used to yet she was beginning to fear what others had occasionally implied might be true. There was no doubt in her mind that Margaret understood a great deal of what was said to her, if not all; it had been shown time and time again. Although there had been a lot of ugliness in her life, Bethoc had done her best not to let much of it touch Margaret. Now she wondered if she had not done as good a job as she had thought.
“Something wrong?” asked Callum when he noticed how Bethoc was frowning down at the child in her arms, a child who was pretending to be asleep.
“I was just worrying over her lack of speaking,” Bethoc admitted. “I ken she understands most of what we say so why doesnae she use more words?”
“Mayhap she still holds tight to the lesson of being quiet.”
“But at so young an age?”
“Aye. Bairns can learn how to keep the bad away verra early. She has nay trouble understanding and she says more every day now that . . .”
“Kerr is dead and gone,” she said. “Then I shall try nay to fret o’er it.”
He reached over to stroke her cheek. “Aye, ye should. And, there lies your home.”
Bethoc stared at her home. It had just come fully into view and she had to fight down the urge to race toward it. For once, she was eager to get home. She needed to see how Colin and Bean fared and make certain that she had done the right thing for Magnus.
Robbie stood in the door as they dismounted. “So how are Payton and Kirstie?” he asked.
“Excellent health,” replied Callum, stepping up to clap Robbie on the back. “Kirstie is with child again. The lads are growing fast and David, too. Didnae see Moira but seems she is with child and near her time.”
“I still cannae believe she wed Alan. T’was a good match though. Ye could see it.”
“Aye. Where are the lads?”
“In the fields. Harvest coming in. Still a wee bit slow but gaining fast. Looks like there will be a lot to take to market.”
“And for once they can decide what is done with the money,” said Bethoc.
“Och, aye, they are looking forward to that,” said Robbie as they all walked inside.
Bethoc gasped and looked around. The floor had been fixed and scrubbed so clean she had briefly thought it a new floor. Her father’s bed was gone and her nook appeared to have been made into a place to sit. The rough steps up to the loft had been replaced by a sturdier stairway and, she realized, it disappeared into a proper opening. Someone had finished closing off the upstairs making a full second floor instead of just a rough loft.
“Someone has been busy,” she said, fighting the urge to run up the stairs and see what else had been done.
“Aye,” replied Robbie as he set some cider and tankards on the table, “I am nay good in the fields except for helping to move rocks or the like. Dinnae like it, either. But I could do something about all the ideas they had about what to do to the house. That I could do, like to do. Like to build things.”
As they moved to sit at the table, Callum said, “Aye, Moira still talks of her kitchen as if it was a gift from the gods.” He poured some cider not for himself, Bethoc, and Moira.
“Weel, Alan made the chimney. Did a fine job, too,” said Robbie as he sat down and poured himself some cider.
