She had her mother’s fair hair, but she had not inherited her father’s dark brown eyes that looked like burning coals when he was angry. Her eyes were a light brown that shone in the sunlight, and she was as innocently as pretty as a daisy.
She often thought that her father had no time for her, but if she had only known it, he loved her to distraction, though he had great difficulty in showing it. Abigail watched him walking away, anger in every line of his body.
If only he could be happy,she thought.If only he could find a nice lady like Mother to love him. It would be so good to have a mother!
She knew he would not bother her now, for her tutor was coming to see her. She usually only saw him at dinnertime, when he would sometimes chat to her very amiably, unless he was in one of his rages, but she usually preferred to listen rather than talk, just in case she said the wrong thing and brought on one of his bad moods.
She thought that deep within him a kind heart beat under a hard shell; she had seen evidence of it in the way he treated his animals and the children of his servants, but even though he was kind to them, he was never demonstrably affectionate.
Abigail sighed and went to meet her tutor, Sister Teresa from the Sisters of Poverty, a convent nearby. She had ceased to wonder and worry about her father; nothing would change him.
Under Leana’s care, the sick man, Jamie, continued to improve, but he had not yet recovered his memory, and Leana was becoming worried. The swelling on his head had begun to go down, and the arrow wound was starting to scab over, so she was fairly sure that he was going to make a full recovery even though he would bear a huge scar for the rest of his life.
Joe was not faring so well; the day before had been rainy, and the damp air had aggravated the discomfort of his weak chest, setting off a bout of coughing that sometimes became uncontrollable. Leana gave him a liquorice and comfrey mixture the local monks made, but the best cure for him was rest.
She had been accustomed to him helping her a little around the house, but now the burden of housework, healing, and tending the farm fell heavily and squarely on her shoulders, and she was permanently exhausted.
One of her neighbors, Jennie McKay, came to see her one day and frowned as she saw her usually young and vital friend looking so peaky.
“God in heaven, lass!” She sounded shocked as she saw Leana mucking out the big new horse’s stable. “Ye look awfy peely-wally. Can ye no’ rest for a bit? Ye’re gaunnae kill yersel’!”
Leana stood up and rubbed her aching back, smiled at her neighbor, then shook her head. “Naw, Jennie,” she answered wearily. “I havenae the time. The men have their ain things tae dae an’ I need tae look efter Paw. He took awfy bad after yon rain the ither day.”
Jennie handed Leana two large stoppered jars of honey she had gathered from her own hives, and Leana gave her a barrel of ale in exchange, which both women hefted onto her cart.
“I’m fair worried aboot ye hen,” Jennie said anxiously, shaking her gray head in reproach. “Ye’re takin’ on too much.”
Leana laughed. “Jennie, ye widnae be happy withoot somethin’ tae worry aboot!”
Jennie laughed, but her heart was troubled. Leana’s plight stayed at the back of her mind since she had a great regard for Leana and almost thought of her as her own daughter.
The next morning just before sunrise John and Bettina McKay, Jennie’s sixteen-year-old twins, came striding over the fields and knocked on the front door of Leana’s cottage.
Leana was stirring a pot of porridge with one hand while trying to tip some willow bark tea into Jamie’s mouth with the other. “Come in!” she called. Her eyes widened when she saw the two youngsters, then she frowned in puzzlement.
“Mornin’ John, Bett. ‘Tis good tae see ye, but whit are ye daein’ here?” she asked.
“We have come tae help ye,” Bettina answered firmly as she began to plump up Joe’s pillows. “Mammy said ye were lookin’ tired, an’ ye had helped us in that mony ways that she had tae pay ye back.”
“She didnae have tae dae that!” Tears sprang to Leana’s eyes as she spoke. “But I will be glad o’ the help.”
“Sit,” Bett said firmly, then took over the porridge pot. In a short while she had fed the invalids, while Leana gave them medicine and dressed Jamie’s wounds. Next, she began the household washing, which she hung out in the gray, windy air of the early autumn morning.
John went out with the scythe to cut more hay and milk the cows and goats, and Leana was ordered into bed by Bett and fell asleep at once. Joe stood over her stroking her hair and sighing. “I wish I could dae mair,” he said sadly. “She is sich a good girl an’ she needs tae be merrit wi’ bairns o’ her ain.”
Bett gazed down at Leana’s lovely face. She herself was a plain, plump girl with dark hair and blue eyes. She should have been jealous of her pretty neighbor but it was not possible to envy someone like Leana. It was impossible to dislike her.
Leana did not wake up until the afternoon, and when she looked up from her mattress on the floor, she saw that the house was shining and clean, both the injured man and her father were content, and Bett was just coming to the end of a load of ironing. Shirts, tunics, her dresses, and the men’s hose were all folded and stacked in neat piles on the dresser.
She looked on in disbelief. “Bett, you did not need to do all this. You should have woken me!” she protested.
Bett shook her head firmly. “Mammy telt me tae,” she replied, “an’ I always dae as I’m telt. Onyway, Leana, ye work sae hard wi’ no’ a word o’ complaint—it’s the least we can dae.” Bett smiled at her. “Go oot an’ get a bit o’ fresh air. I will hae a wee bit dinner ready when ye come back.”
“Thank ye, Bett.” Leana was beaming with gratitude as she stepped out into the bracing air. She took herself off to the burn that ran past the house, then washed quickly and dried herself with her shawl. She hugged herself and drew in deep lungfuls of Highland air, reflecting that she had a lot to be thankful for. She had a hard life, it was true, but she had a roof over her head and a father who loved her, enough to eat, and most of all her health and strength.
Thinking of strength brought to mind the big horse who was, at that moment, standing in an enclosure just outside the stable. If she had been awake Leana would have turned her out to pasture, but she had not been, and no one else, it seemed, had the sense to do it. She could not blame the McKays, as it was not their farm, but just occasionally she felt that she could cheerfully bang her other two workers’ heads together and smile while doing it.
When she went to greet her, Lucy, as Leana had begun to think of her, was placidly chomping a mouthful of hay, but paused in her labors to welcome Leana with a little neigh. Leana smiled and stroked her long wooly mane, then kissed her velvet nose. Lucy raised her head and ran her chin over Leana’s hair, turning it into a tangle, and she laughed and hugged the big horse’s neck, then she smelled the delicious aroma of stew coming from the kitchen.
