Again, Blair paused for thought as she tested the potatoes' readiness with the tip of a knife, then she replied, “I’m nae sure if I’m ready to start me life without him yet.” Then, warming to her theme, she tried to elaborate her reasoning. “Y’see, Faither always said he could fill our minds with auld wives’ tales about monsters and sprites if he wanted to, but instead, he told us there werenae such things as wulvers, boggarts, kelpies, selkies, and the bean nighe. In fact, he named Pooka over there after the Puca, just to show us we didnae have to worry about offending mythical creatures.”
Slaine was enchanted by Blair’s fireside chats. He could sit and watch her animated little face talk about her life and her family all night. In some ways, despite her parents’ foibles, she was lucky to have them.
“Faither said we dinnae need auld wives’ tales about mythical creatures to warn us away from water. He told us we were clever enough children to ken to stay away for our own good without him scaring us silly. Instead, Faither would tell us stories about heroes.”
Her eyes met Slaine’s for a long moment. A myriad of thoughts were flashing through their minds after Blair finished speaking.
I’m no hero, heavens only kens, but if the definition of one is someone who would never let her come to harm, then I suppose the description is as good as any.
Blair would have been shocked to read Slaine’s self-deprecating thoughts.
He’s me idea of a true hero. I wonder how long it took him to learn how to fight like that? And his strength! Losh sakes, I never realized a man could be so powerful. It was as though he had a warrior’s warp all of his own.
The potatoes were boiled, and they ate with relish. The good housekeeper that she was, Blair had remembered to pack salt into her saddlebag before leaving home, and when she sprinkled it over the food, it added a savory kick to the taste. They were hungry; it seemed as though many meals had been skipped while they had been trapped under the trees.
When Blair came back from rinsing the plates and pots, Slaine offered to peel her an apple.
“Nay, I thank ye.” She smiled and took a bite out of the fruit as it was. “I love the skin, which reminds me, how is yer wound? I’m glad ye didnae get another one this time. How many men did ye fight at the Phoenix?”
Unaware of her verbal slip, Blair continued to munch on her apple.
If Slaine had noticed Blair’s shift from loving the taste of apple skin to thinking about his back, he did not mention it.
“Healing nicely, thank ye. And I didnae stop to count how many men there were at the tavern.” An idea came suddenly to mind. “What will ye do if we cannae find yer faither, lass? And if we do find him, what will ye do if he prefers to stay where he is?”
Blair had never taken kindly to contemplating failure. She flared up at Slaine’s questions, unable to see the genuine concern behind the words.
“Faither wouldneverchoose another course in life! He was lured into doing those dastards’ bidding because he is guileless and easily swayed. And as for nae finding him—well, I never! It’s our job to find him and I have always done a job until it’s finished, thank ye very much!”
Not put off by her outburst, Slaine insisted, “If he wanted only adventure, lass, dinnae ye think he wouldnae have accepted their money then?”
Blair stopped midway between opening her mouth to snap his head off and allowing the truth of his words to sink in. She compromised with an irate huff and sat back on the ground with her arms folded and an alarming frown on her face.
“Ye’re nae quite a hero yet, Mister Slaine Thamhais…” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” Slaine asked.
“Nothin’,” Blair said, and prepared for sleep.
11
Cold, Warm, Hot
Once more, Blair found it hard to shut off her thoughts and seek the healing refuge of sleep. The ground was hard and lumpy with roots and the air had turned cold, true to its Highland nature. She tossed from one side to the other, thinking about whether what Slaine said earlier had any merit.
She gave up and went to throw another log on the fire.
Slaine stirred. “Are ye cold, lass?”
“Aye. Me toes are freezin’ and I can hardly feel me nose anymore.”
Slaine turned to face the fire, saying, “I have two blankets. Would ye like one?”
Blair hunched her shoulders as she sat by the fire, alternately extending her hands toward the flames and rubbing them furiously together.
“Nay, thank ye, Slaine. Then we’d both be cold. I thought me traveling cloak and me quilt would be adequate protection for the journey, but…”
Slaine raised up one side of his blankets, and said, “Bring yer quilt with ye and come and lie underneath mine then. ‘Tis an auld trick I learned up north. One person lying inside the other.”
