One of the dogs in the village had given birth to pups a few weeks back. The bitch had ignored the sickly runt, and the farmer had been about to drown the poor thing, when Pip had come to its rescue and brought it back to the tower house. Remarkably, not only did the creature seem to be thriving, but their old, stubborn barn cat, who didn’t like anyone, seemed to think it was the pup’s mother.
Cate moved toward the far end of the barn, finding Pip sitting against the wall of the last stall.
Her heart squeezed, seeing the telltale streaks down his swollen, bloodied face. But she pretended not to notice. His pride was a tender thing right now. He was so full of bluster and bravado. But it had helped him survive, and she would not destroy it with comfort. Not until he was ready.
“How is he?”
Pip shrugged. “I brought him some scraps of meat from the evening meal last night, and he seemed to like them.”
“Have you named him yet?”
The boy shook his head. “No.” She understood. He wouldn’t name him until he was certain the pup would live. His eyes scanned her dress, and then narrowed angrily. “That’s forhim, isn’t it? You’ve dressed like that for him.”
Cate hoped she wasn’t blushing, but her cheeks felt suspiciously hot. Good gracious, was it that obvious? “No, I—”
“You like him, don’t you? Well, I don’t. I hate him—and he’s not my father!”
Cate pulled over a stool that was used for milking the cows and drew it over to sit by him. “Why do you say that?”
For a moment he looked stricken, but then he looked away and mumbled, “My mother said he was handsome. That we looked just alike. I don’t look anything like him. He’s cold and arrogant and ugly.”
He looked so upset, Cate didn’t have the heart to smile. She doubted anyone had ever called Gregor MacGregor ugly before. “He didn’t mean what he said, Pip. He was surprised, that’s all. Once you get to know him—”
“I don’t want to get to know him. I hate him!”
Dear Lord, had she actually thought this would be easy? Her plan to bring them all together had the makings of a disaster. “You both started off on the wrong foot, that’s all.” Not wanting to leave any more room for discussion, she stood. “It will be time for the midday meal soon—you have just enough time to wash up.” He started to protest, but she stopped him in a voice that brooked no argument. “I will fetch some salve for your cuts.”
He looked down at the dog and nodded.
Again she wanted to put her arms around him, but she remembered all too well how she’d been at that age. Lady Marion had been patient with her, and she would do the same for Pip.
She turned to leave, but he stopped her. “How did you do what you did to Dougal today?”
Her mouth twisted. It had been rather amazing. She hadn’t really been convinced all of her practice would pay off. But it had, and she was proud of herself. “Practice.”
His eyes darkened again. “Didheteach you?”
She shook her head. For years she’d pestered Gregor every time he came home to teach her how to defend herself, but he always put her off “until next time.” Finally, she grew weary of waiting and asked John. “No, John taught me.”
Pip paused for a moment and looked up at her uncertainly. “Do you think that maybe you could teach me?”
She grinned. “You wouldn’t mind taking lessons in warfare from a lass?”
He thought for a minute, obviously taking her question seriously. “Not if you can teach me to do that.”
She laughed. “Well, why don’t we see what you can do tomorrow?”
He stared at her, a look of cautious excitement on his bruised and battered face. “Really?”
She smiled. It was still so hard for him to believe that anything good would be coming his way, but she was determined to change that. “Really. But you’ll have to work hard.”
His black head was nodding so enthusiastically, she feared he might start his nose bleeding again. “I will, I promise.”
She hid a smile. “Then come to the practice yard after your chores. John and I should be done by then.”
A few times a week—more if she begged him hard enough—John found time to squeeze in a few practice sessions with her in between his other duties. With Gregor and their youngest brother, Padraig, off fighting, it had been left to John to keep watch over their holdings for the time being. Although John was anxious to return to the battle, Cate looked forward to their training more than anything—except for Gregor’s visits.
Reminded that the very man was likely waiting for her and the children in the Great Hall, Cate hurried to get the salve and see what could be done about Pip’s poor face. She had to ensure that Gregor’s second impression was better than the first. A wry smile turned her lips. Given the first meeting, that shouldn’t be too hard.
