Maggie reached to strike him, but Braden caught her again.
“You know, Ian,” he said to her brother, “you should take more care with Maggie. Sisters are special treasures.”
“How would you know? You’ve only got brothers.”
“That’s how I know. If I had such a special little blossom for a sister, I would take care of her. Watch after her.”
Ian sneered. “Then you can have her. Just give me the horse and she’s yours.”
Maggie looked up at Braden as a tear fell down her cheek. “I don’t want to be a pest. I just want to play with them, but they think I’m no fun. They say I can’t play anything because I’m a girl.” More tears fell. “I hate being a girl. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”
Braden drew her into a tight hug. “There now, little blossom. There’s nothing wrong with being a lass. The good Lord made you what you are, and one day your brothers will come to realize just what a gift they’ve been given.”
For the first time in her seven years of living, she believed that. If Braden liked her she couldn’t be all bad, could she?
Her brothers were just mean.
“What are the two of you doing in here?” Her father’s angry tone split the air.
Maggie pulled away from Braden to see her father’s irate face.
Her father stalked toward them and took her hand, then reached for Ian. “I thought I told the two of you to stay in the wagon until I finished my business with the laird.”
Maggie swallowed. There would be a beating for this to be sure. And all because she’d wanted to play for a few seconds instead of sitting in the stinky old wagon.
Life was just so terribly unfair!
Her father apologized to Braden, then quickly returned them to the yard where their wagon waited.
Maggie scurried up the back of the empty wagon and took a seat on the remnants of hay while Ian settled up front. Her da left them with a dire warning should either of them move again.
Her heart heavy, she tucked her feet beneath her dirty saffron kirtle and watched her father disappear into the stable.
Oh, what a wretched, awful day. Why couldn’t she ever listen to what her da told her? Perhaps Anghus was right after all. Maybe she did have a demon in her.
Sighing, she kept her head sedately bowed and studied her folded hands, praying that her da wouldn’t be overly harsh with his beating.
A few minutes later, a painted horse appeared just before her teary eyes.
Gasping, she looked up to see Braden’s wonderful, ten-year-old face smiling at her.
“I named him Connor but he said he’d like to play with a wee lass for a bit. He thinks a lass would be more fun than playing with a mean old boy.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she breathed, cradling the horse to her chest. It was painted a deep, rich brown with great big black eyes. Never had she seen anything more incredibly beautiful. “I’ll take good care of him for you.”
Braden nodded, then handed Ian a white one. “Remember your promise, Ian. You can’t kill your sister.”
“Can I hit her, then?”
“If you do, I’m taking the horse back.”
“Oh, all right,” Ian said huffily.
Maggie watched as Braden left them and in that instant she realized she loved the young lord.
He was her hero.
Clutching the horse tightly in her hands, she vowed that one day she wouldn’t be a fish’s wife. One day she would be...
