"Standard care––feed her regular, check her hooves daily, exercise when possible. The mare's already saddle-broke and bridle-trained, but she'll test boundaries until she trusts her rider completely." Tormod's expression softened. "But if yer lass can get through tae her like she just did? They'll be good taegether."
They walked out to join Mhairi. The grey mare eyed them warily but didn’t move away from Mhairi's side.
"This one," Mhairi said as they approached. "If... if that's all right."
"More than all right." Alpin nodded to Tormod. "We'll take her."
"Excellent choice, me laird. I'll have her brought tae the castle stables tomorrow, along with tack and––"
"Wait." Mhairi's hand tightened on the mare's mane. "Alpin, this is too much. A horse, equipment––I cannae accept all of that."
"Why nae?"
"Because it’s too much."
"Nay arguments." He kept his tone gentle but firm. "This is happenin'. The only question is what ye're goin' tae name her."
Mhairi looked up at him, emotions warring in her grey eyes. Finally, she turned back to the mare.
"Solas," she said softly. "It means light."
"It's perfect." Alpin reached out to stroke the mare's neck, his hand brushing Mhairi's in the process. "Solas it is."
Tormod cleared his throat. "I'll make the arrangements, me laird. She'll be ready at the castle by midday tomorrow."
"Good. And Tormod? Make sure she gets the best tack we have. Nothin' worn or secondhand."
"Aye, me laird."
As the breeder walked away, Mhairi turned to face Alpin fully. "Thank ye. Ye see what I need before I even ken it meself."
"I’ll dae more.”
Before she could answer, Solas nudged Mhairi's shoulder with her nose, clearly demanding more attention. The moment broke, and Mhairi laughed, returning her focus to the horse.
They walked back toward where Dùbh waited, and Alpin lifted Mhairi back onto the saddle in front of him. They rode toward the castle with the sun sinking low on the horizon.
"Miss? Can ye help with this?"
Mhairi looked up from the mortar where she'd been grinding feverfew to find a young mother hovering in the doorway of the village healer's cottage.
The woman held a small child on her hip––perhaps two years old, with tear-streaked cheeks and labored breathing.
"Of course. Come in." Mhairi set down the pestle and moved to clear space on the examination table. "What's troublin' him?"
"He cannae breathe right. Started this mornin', just a wee cough at first, but now..." The mother's voice cracked with worry. "He keeps makin' this awful wheezin' sound."
Donnach appeared from the back room where he'd been sorting supplies. "Let me see the bairn."
Together, they examined the child. His breathing was indeed labored, each inhale accompanied by a high-pitched wheeze. His lips had a faint blue tinge.
"Croup," Donnach said immediately. "Common in children his age, especially this time of year." He looked at Mhairi. "What's the treatment?"
This was a test. Mhairi's mind raced through everything she'd learned over the past weeks. "Steam inhalation to ease the airway. And... willow bark tea fer the fever?"
"Close. The fever's nae the primary concern yet, it's the swellin' in his throat that's causin' the breathin' trouble. We need tae reduce that inflammation first." Donnach was already moving toward his supplies. "Mhairi, start water boilin'. Add chamomile and mint, the steam will help open his airways. And prepare a honey and thyme mixture fer the cough."
Mhairi worked quickly, her hands steady despite her nervous energy. This was her first time treating a seriously ill child without Donnach directly supervising every move.
