"The kitchen," she said.
"Aye. And the brewery." He motioned toward a bowl-shaped stone structure.
"Of course." She had spent much time in the kitchen when she'd been a young lass at home. Her mother had passed when she'd been very young—she could hardly remember her—and Calla had enjoyed spending time with the women servants in the kitchen.
"I didn't expect to be traveling this long and I have few supplies," Rebbie said, bypassing her. "I do have a flint, though, and can start a fire."
"I'm sorry I'm causing you so much trouble," she said.
"Nonsense." He grinned. "I love venturing into the wilds of Scotland sometimes. At least it isn't midwinter with the snow piling up and the wind blowing."
She nodded, remembering the recounting he'd given Lachlan of his and Dirk's travel through the northern Highlands last winter. Of course, he could never find out she'd eavesdropped on him.
Outside, Rebbie gathered some of the dead grass from under the clumps, and a few fallen twigs and piled them into the fire-pit in the center of the kitchen floor. Deciding to help him, she removed her good gloves so as not to ruin them; she couldn't afford to buy more. She helped him while Devil munched grass nearby.
"Do you think Claybourne will find us here?" she asked.
"We lost him a good ways back, so hopefully he won't ken which way we've gone. But if he does show up during the night, Devil will alert us."
She nodded, unsure if she would be able to sleep for the worry.
"I'll go into the forest and find some fallen limbs," Rebbie said. "Will you be all right here with Devil guarding you?"
"Nay, I'll help."
He quirked a dark brow. "In truth? You're not above menial labor?" he asked in a dry tone.
She grinned. "Of course not. I used to help in the castle's kitchen when I was a young lass. I learned how to build fires and cook."
"I'm impressed."
"What about you? An earl who does menial labor?"
He let loose a short chuckle and started forward. "That's easy. I just pretend like I'm not an earl most of the time."
Perplexed, she frowned and followed, watching his kilt sway in the breeze as he walked. His calves above his boots looked hard with muscle and were dusted with dark hair. "Why on earth would you pretend such a thing?"
Turning back, he said. "I enjoy freedom more than most anything."
"Freedom." She nodded. Somehow she'd known that about him. "Sounds wonderful. Something I've rarely experienced."
"Stay there, lad," he told the horse.
Turning, she saw that Devil had been following them toward the wood. But atRebbie'swords, the horse halted at the edge of the trees and resumed picking the fresh green grass.
"He's such an intelligent horse," Calla said.
"That he is. Sometimes I think he understands every word I say.'Tisa bit eerie at times."
Must be wonderful owning such an impressive animal. She'd had a mare she enjoyed riding, but had to sell her, along with the rest of the horses and coaches, once the debts piled up. She couldn't believe how much they'd lost. But she didn't care about the material possessions so much, or even her horse.'Twashaving her son by her side every day, along with the safety and security, she missed most.
She didn't mind putting herself in danger as long asweeJamie was safe.Stanbury'ssister would coddle the lad and provide for him. However, the woman didn't care one whit about Calla, had always thought her a gold-digging strumpet. Calla would've never asked for her and her husband's charity for herself. She would much rather work for a living than be under that woman's roof with her disapproving eye. But they would protect Jamie with their very lives because of her late husband. They knew how much he'd wanted a son and heir.
Calla walked beside Rebbie through the wood, damp leaves softening their footsteps. She glanced up at the trees, making sure no dead ones would fall on her. Would she ever feel safe in the forest again after that tree had almost crushed her?
"Do you ever crave it?" he asked. "Freedom."
"Aye. Of course. But 'tis not such an easy thing for a woman to acquire." She hadn't experienced freedom since she was a young lass, and even then, freedom had restrictions.
