Maisie looked at her.Then at the men.Then she disappeared into the back and returned with a workbasket.
Una took it to the table, sat down, and got to work.
She took their garments one by one and began mending them.She needed something to do with her hands, and sewing had always given her that, something to ground herself in.
Soon more of Cormac's men appeared with garments in need of repair.Una worked through them all, making the seams as neat as she could manage.
The men thanked her.A young one called Donal, who could not have been more than nineteen, thanked her so earnestly she nearly laughed.
"That's the finest bit of stitching I've ever seen," he told her."My mother couldn't have done better."He grinned.
Then Ros appeared from the bench by the wall holding out his plaid with an expression of such hopefulness that Una set down the needle and looked at it.A tear along the hem, a split seam at the shoulder, and a hole near the edge that had been getting larger for what looked like several months.
"Could ye possibly..."he began.
"Give it here," she said.
Maisie brought more thread and Una settled by the fire and began to sew.It was the first time in days she felt entirely like herself.
The needle moved and the work made sense.She sat in the warm common room and mended the torn garments of a group of rough Highland men who kept coming to her, one by one, with various items in various states of disrepair, holding them out, hoping someone would fix these things for a very long time.
She mended a split seam in Seumas's coat.She replaced two missing buttons on a shirt so old it had no right to survive further washing.She reattached a belt loop, reinforced a worn cuff, and sewed closed a pocket.
The men thanked her each time with a sincerity she found unexpectedly touching.They had been living rough and living hard, and a mended garment meant more than it might seem from the outside.She understood that.
***
CORMAC STOOD IN THEdoorway of the common room later that morning and watched her.
He had slept so well he had not heard her leave, and he had felt a stab of disappointment when he woke to find her gone.But now he watched quietly.She was talking to Donal about something that made him laugh.Tam was showing her the wound she had stitched and she was inspecting it with a slight frown, pressing around it gently to check the swelling.The workbasket was open on the table beside her and the fire was behind her and she looked completely at home among his men.
Every time one of them leaned in with an adoring expression he wanted to drag the lot of them away by the collar.He had never been territorial over a woman before, but this lass brought it out in him without even trying.He was about to stride across and disperse Tam and Donal when Seumas appeared at his shoulder.
"Calm down," Seumas said."They're young pups not used to the care of a bonnie lass."
"They should not be hovering about her."
"She's been at it since first light," Seumas said.
Cormac said nothing.
"The men like her," Seumas added.
Cormac said nothing to that either.
"She's not like the noble women ye usually want nothing to do with," Seumas observed, pressing his luck.
"Seumas."
"Aye?"
"Go and do something useful and stop gawking at my woman."
Seumas lifted his brow."Yer woman, ye say?"
"Shut yer mouth and get on with ye!"
Seumas left, but he did it with a smirk.
