Page 23 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

"It's braw tae have ye back, lass," her father said. He looked warily at him, then swiftly turned his head back to face his daughter. "I always worry when ye’re away for so long."

"I ken," said Grace, coming over to kiss him on the cheek. "But I did send word back wi' one o' the messengers. Did ye nae get it.?"

"Aye," grumbled her father. He pressed his wrinkled features plaintively toward her. "But it's nae the same as seeing ye for myself. I worry about ye, lass. When are ye going tae settle down an' make yer old da happy?"

Once again, the old man glanced furtively to Andrew. Andrew looked down, unsure of what to say.

"Wheesht!" Grace batted her hand down in front of her face dismissively. "We've been through this, dear father." She bustled about him, helping him with the seasoning of the broth. "An' ye ken when—"

"Aye, when hell freezes over. Ye told me," muttered the wiry blacksmith. He gave a grudging grin. "But I still live in hope. After all, yer life isnae life for a lassie!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "I'm nae just any lassie, Father," she said with a sudden grin.

Watching her, Andrew could well believe it. He was barely able to take his eyes off the lass, her dark wavy hair bobbing about over her shoulders. And he was totally unable to stop looking at her slight, curvaceous form as she leaned over to the large cooking pot beneath her.

The sight of her modest but shapely bosoms heaving from the top of her corset gave him a sudden rush. Quickly, Andrew stopped looking. But inside, the rush in his chest continued, and his heart thumped painfully for some time afterward.

"Aye, I ken ye’re nae, lassie, but all the same, as the big fella will tell ye, battle is no place for a lass!" For the first time, the blacksmith looked at Andrew properly. His gray-brown eyes burrowed in, dissecting him carefully. On his lips, he wore a grin, but Andrew could see what he was thinking. Before he could set him right, Grace continued.

"Haud yer wheesht! Ye ken I'm as fearsome as any man," she chided. Her father pouted but then sighed. "An' anyway, ye didnae say nay tae the coin."

With this, Grace slipped a shiny coin into the blacksmith's hand with a puckish grin.

Ruefully, the blacksmith took it while looking at her hopefully. "Aye, I ken how ferocious ye are, lassie. Nae tae mention how stubborn!" His eyes met Andrew's again. "That's something ye have tae watch out for, lad," he said. Andrew cleared his throat. Then he realized he didn't know exactly what he was going to say. His eyes darted to Grace's.

"Um, Father," said Grace, with a smile. She had finished stirring the soup and now was bringing the ladle to it. Quickly, she ladled three bowls and placed them on a small table in the center of the room. Then, she nodded to Andrew to come and take a seat there.

When the three of them were seated, she looked sharply to her father.

"This is Andrew Caldwell. He's come from the Duncan clan, an' I said I could help him."

Instantly, the blacksmith looked up. "Duncan?" he said suspiciously. Andrew wondered what had worried him. As far as he knew, the relations between the clans were friendly. But the look of panic on the man's face made him look more closely.

"Aye, southern from here," replied Andrew amiably. But all the while, his mind was turning.

"Andrew is looking for a young lassie," said Grace, breezily. She tapped her spoon in the broth and tasted it before wrinkling up her nose. "Och, nae enough salt, Father," she grumbled. But her father did not listen. Instead, he was staring at Andrew.

"What, lassie?" he asked, fear coming into his brown-gray eyes. Andrew sat up straight. Something was eating at this man, and he wanted to know what.

Not noticing, Grace continued.

"Och, just some lass who was brought here as a bairn. I thought that ye might ken where tae ask about. After all, ye ken everyone in this place!" Grace smiled warmly, but her good humor failed to infuse him.

"Lass? I dinnae ken about any lass, an' anyway, twenty years ago was a long time," said the blacksmith. He turned his eyes away from Andrew sharply.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. He had not said anything about it being twenty years to the man, and neither had Grace. However, Grace appeared not to have noticed anything untoward.

"Really, Father? Well, ye might if ye remember the name. What was it? Allie..." She turned sharply to Andrew.

"Aggie," he said, observing her father's reaction.

The blacksmith made a muffled noise and put his spoon down quietly. "Well, I dinnae ken any Aggies. Sorry," he said.

This seemed to satisfy Grace, but it did not convince Andrew. He could tell from the body language of the old man that he was hiding something.

"Ach," said Grace, disappointed. "I felt sure ye'd ken something, Father."

She looked despondently to Andrew, then seemed surprised to see a glint in his eye.

Andrew leaned down over his broth, eating it politely. Grace had been right; it was under-seasoned. Still, he had not had a bite since the night he had arrived, and so he ate it all up. When he was finished, he pushed the bowl into the center of the table and smiled.

"Thank ye," he said to the old man. Then, he hesitated. He glanced at Grace, who was smiling at the pair of them from her stool. She stood to collect the soup dishes when Andrew cleared his throat.

"I'll do that," he said, smiling. "I, um, just wondered if we could have a wee chat awhile, maybe while ye run an' check on the horses?"

Grace smiled unsurely. She sure as hell must have known that the horses did not need checking on, but realizing what Andrew was asking her, she smiled demurely and rose from the table.

"Are ye alright if I leave ye for a while, Father?" she asked, whispering into her father's ear. Sensing his anxiety, she looked at him keenly. "It's nothing tae fash about, Father, it's just he's here tae find this young lassie, that's all. Nothing else tae worry about."

Her father nodded, but his expression was anything but relaxed. He watched as Grace excused herself from the room, then turned his eyes sharply to Andrew.

"So then, young laddie, what's this all about?"