Highland Supplanter (Book 2)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Fyfa had not seen Hamish for seven days. Not that she was counting at all. Well, she had noticed him on watch a few times. But other than that he had stayed away. Just as she had wanted him too. And yet she had completely confusing emotions over it. After fixing up her cottage that first day, he had not even left anything upon her doorstep once more. Well, it was more like they did patch work really, she had a feeling the only way to truly help her home would be to demolish it and build a new one. But where would she find the funds complete such a task?

Taking down some salted pork from the top shelf of, the now rather sturdy, cupboard. She remembered the way Hamish had barged his way into her life and her home. And how she had rejected that help. She knew her reasons why, but now that he had stayed away for so long, she saw exactly how much she had come to rely on the small things he did to make sure she was fine. Shaking her head, she knew she was being foolish.

And then there had been the time she had had to spend dodging the twins this last week. They would not take any hint she had given them. She had ended up slamming the door in their faces as they had seen her walk back into her cottage. She was just glad they had not seen her from the front.

Maybe that was why she missed Hamish’s care. He usually knew, she did not know how. He usually found her the day after and found some excuse to give her food or another little item she could not refuse. He had even brought some medicinals after one particularly bad night. And yet today. Nothing.

At the throb caused by her yawn, she carefully placed her fingers against her swollen lip. Checking to see if the cut had reopened once more. As the first wound caused it had been one of the first to slow in bleeding, but had subsequently been reopened. With the pain she had been living with since the start of winter, she had occasionally forgotten what was wrong. Until she pulled too hard. Or yawned to wide, it seemed.

Her eyes stung as she tried to hold back to tears. She refused to cry. While it was in progress, it would only hurt her more. That she had learned a long time ago. Now, she knew it would not help her heal, and she still had a full basket of mending to complete, and she only had a few more days before she had to return the clothing. She sighed knowing how long she would have to spend on them, and how little she would get in return. Most of which she had already promised her father. It was under duress last night, but it was a promise nonetheless, and she did not break her promises.

He had been angry last night. How she had had not coin left after his last night, and day, of drinking that had left him in a drunken stupor. So deep had he slept he had missed three of the clan’s strongest warriors fixing up their cottage. And then missed the difference when he awoke. He probably did not even notice his surroundings anymore. The only reason he even came back to her was because she was the source of the coin that provided the drink. Not that she had any say over that.

Looking from the pork on the table before her, to the empty hearth. And she found herself sighing once more. The cold was finding its way down to her very bones. She had been hording the wood for when it became extremely cold in the middle of the nights. But would it be so bad if she used a log or two. Just to, maybe, heat some water? She was not going to survive much longer if she did not do something. Knowing they had built a little shelter for the logs, to keep them dry and away from the fresh snow that seemed to come daily.

Decision made, she wiped her hand on a scrap of cloth, that had been a dress not that long ago. She hobbled painfully over to the door and swung it open. She had to admit, since Hamish fixed it, less chilling wind had found its way in from this quarter. Looking up as she was about to step out, she came face to face with the very man she had spent so long thinking about.