Page 6 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

That fall had done more to her than leave her afraid of riding. Callum had seen the way injuries and trauma seemed to shatter a person from the inside out. Some people could shrug off the most hellish experiences and simply get on with life, and others… couldn’t.

It was a pity he couldn’t help Maggie, though.

She paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “What was yer name?”

Callum bit his lip. “My name is Callum. Callum Irvine.”

She nodded. “It’s a pleasure tae meet ye, Callum.”

Then she was gone, and he was alone.

Glancing down at the pile of straw in the corner, Callum spotted the silvery glint of a blade’s tip poking out. He swore under his breath, hurrying forward to cover it over again. Had she noticed? No, he didn’t think so. Still, a stable was no place to try and hide a sword under a straw. What if one of the younger stable boys flopped down on the straw, thinking they’d found a comfortable place to sleep, and cut themselves badly on the sharp blade?

Callum could always deny that the sword was his, but then he’d lose it forever. There was really no excuse for him to have it there, but he couldn’t imagine hiding it somewhere in the forest, or leaving it back at the cottage.

Callum moved forward to pull the sword out and look for a better hiding place, but approaching voices dissuaded him. He snatched up a horse brush and managed to look busy just in time before a group of grooms walked in, talking to each other about some bit of gossip or other.

They barely glanced at him. So far, Callum was doing a good job of staying perfectly unobtrusive. Nobody seemed to care about him, unless he was doing something wrong.

Bide your time and wait, lad. This sort of thing can’t be rushed. Be careful, and trust nobody. Nobody, ye hear me?

Those words ricocheted around Callum’s head all the time, a warning and a threat.

Do this right, Callum. We can’t afford any mistakes.

3

Maggie pasted on a smile just in time. She kept forgetting not to look miserable and sullen. In a keep of this size, it was impossible to have any real privacy. After the accident, it felt like every servant, soldier, and councilor was watching her and reporting on how she seemed to feel.

And, of course, the family was a thousand times worse. They meant well, of course, but good intentions weren’t exactly a balm to the soul in times like this.

The feasting room was full, as always, with the top half of the table reserved for the family.

Laird McAlister - Uncle James, as Maggie knew him - sat at the head of the table. Technically, Lady McAlister - Aunt Lyla - ought to sit at the other end of the table, but she always sat to Uncle James’ right, so they could all be together.

Bryce and Sola, Maggie’s parents, sat opposite Lyla, with little Angus beside them. Bonnie and Amilia sat by Aunt Lyla. Bonnie patted the bench beside her, and Maggie sat down between her cousins.

“How was yer ride?” Maggie asked, to forestall her mother’s inevitable questions.

“Bracin’,” Bonnie said, grinning. “Ye should have come, Maggie.”

“Maybe another time.”

The girls exchanged glances, and Maggie knew that she wasn’t fooling anyone.

The table was set for a feast. Aunt Lyla had replaced the bread trenchers with plates, which made eating a much tidier experience. There were loaves on the table anyway, along with meat, cheese, and roasted vegetables. Maggie filled up her plate and began to eat.

She was never too hungry these days. When she’d spent all day out on Stardust, she’d come home feeling ravenously hungry, as if she could demolish whole plates of meat and bread. Now, however, Maggie was lucky if she felt mildly interested in the food set out before her. She knew that Aunt Lyla and her mother were watching her, and would have something to say if she seemed to pick at her food.

It all came from her accident, when she’d lain in bed, refusing to wake up, wasting away. If it hadn’t been for her mother and her Aunt Lyla - as well as her father and uncle, of course - Maggie would have died. She wasn’t going to forget that.

Unfortunately, neither were her parents. Maggie felt as though she were being treated like a little child all over again, and it was infuriating. From Bonnie and Amilia’s well-meaning attempts to get her to ride again, and Sola’s obvious worry, to Aunt Lyla’s thinly veiled hints, and her father’s obvious awkwardness and discomfort.

I just want things to go back to the way they were, Maggie thought, with a rush of despair. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes.

Sola leaned forward, spooning more potatoes onto Maggie’s plate.