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“Perhaps they should accept the help offered, regardless,” Devon said quietly.
“Aye, brother,” Fraser said. “They should. I trust ye understand that.”
“Would you like to join us?” Delilah asked, offering her hand to the boy. “My husband can show you how to make a snow angel, and,” she glanced at Attie, a mischievous grin on her face, “my sister here can teach you how to throw snowballs at him.”
“Much as I’d like to be assaulted by snowballs,” Fraser said, “I fear it’s time to return. Mrs. MacLeish said she was making cullen skink for supper, and you know how particular she is about her recipe. If we’re late and the fish is overcooked, she’ll have my ballocks.”
“What’s a ballock, Uncle Fraser?” Francine asked.
Attie burst into a fit of coughing as Fraser blushed, his face almost matching the scarlet threads on his plaid scarf.
“It’s what most men use to think with, Francine, dear,” Thea said, “isn’t that right, Rowe?”
Rowena let out a snort.
“I should get home,” the boy said, “or Ma will be angry. She sent me out to collect firewood, and I forgot.”
He backed away, and Devon couldn’t help noticing he was favoring his left foot, but the poor lad was trying his best to appear brave. He offered his hand. “Here, lad. Let me help you home. You shouldn’t be walking on that foot.”
The boy hesitated, then nodded, and slipped his hand into Devon’s.
“Hello,” Sebastian said, holding out his hand. “I’m Sebastian. Please come to the party.”
Hamish looked at Sebastian’s clean, pink hand, then shook his head, wiping his own grimy little hand on his jacket.
“Sebastian, why don’t you look after your mother?” Devon suggested, sensing Hamish’s discomfort. “I’ll take Hamish home, and we’ll see who makes it back to Glendarron first.”
“It bet it’ll be us!” Flora cried.
“Consider your challenge accepted, Miss Flora,” Devon said. Then he took Hamish’s hand and set off.
As soon as the path turned a corner, Devon lifted Hamish into his arms, ignoring the boy’s protests.
“I can see your foot pains you, lad,” Devon said. “Don’t worry. I waited until we were out of sight of the others. There’s no shame in needing help. We all do, from time to time.”
“I betyoudon’t,” the boy said. “You’re so strong! I wish I could be like you when I grow up.”
“Well, you’ll need to go to school,” Devon said. “Perhaps if we found some help for your mother, you could return.”
“I don’t know…”
“Wouldn’t you like to resume your lessons?”
“I would, but I don’t want Ma to be sad again.”
“She’ll want what’s best for you,” Devon said. “Perhaps I can help. I could let you have some of my son’s books if you like.”
The boy’s eyes lit up, then dulled again, and he shook his head. “I couldn’t take them.”
“Nonsense!” Devon said. “Sebastian has far too many books, and he doesn’t read them all. It would be good to see them being used and appreciated. He has a dictionary—with pictures. I’m sure you’d like that.”
“Ma says I shouldn’t take gifts.” the boy said.
“Not even at Christmas?”
“People always want something in return.”
“Not everyone,” Devon said.
