Page 65 of Highland Sky

“Are ye hungry, lass?” asked Nash.

“Mmmm, they do smell delicious.”

“We’ll take two,” said Nash, laying his coin on the table and collecting the warm pies that fit in the palms of their hands.

One bite of the bilberry pie, and flavor exploded in Kellina’s mouth, bringing her to life. “These are delicious,” she said, licking her lips. “I’m goin’ to learn to make them for ye, Nash.”

“I’d like that. And mayhap ye can learn to make haggis, too?”

“I hope to experience many new things, bein’ yer wife now.” Kellina really seemed to be relaxing, and also accepting of their marriage. Nash had started to feel like a husband and was thinking that, in time, he would enjoy being a father, too.

“I think I’d like five or six children,” he blurted out, almost making her choke on the pie. “Four lads and two lassies would be guid. Dinna ye think?”

“I thought ye said ye wanted to wait to make a family.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Well,” she said, finishing the pie and licking off her fingers. “Six sounds like a lot to me. How about if we have one first, and see how it fares with both of us?”

“Then ye’re no’ against bein’ a mathair? I mean . . . ye sounded like ye didna want to have bairns anymore.”

“I think bein’ away from the clan is really helpin’ me to clear my head,” she told him. “I see now that ye are right. We need to look to our future, and no’ the past.”

As they continued strolling through the marketplace, they saw baskets of beets and white and purple carrots as long as one’s forearm. The aroma of freshly baked brown bread wafted up into the air, helping to disguise the stink of the town and all the livestock in the streets.

Brown eggs were piled up in baskets and set on tables, waiting to be bought. A man who looked to be a tailor cut bolts of cloth and wrapped the pieces in brown paper for his customers to take with them to make clothes. Minstrels strolled through the streets playing lutes and panpipes, carrying small baskets at their sides for coins they collected from the customers who enjoyed their music.

Small children ran through the streets chasing barking dogs. One hound stole a string of sausage and ran through the street dragging it, with a half-dozen other dogs following, trying to get it. A man at a stall with grapes on his sign poured wine into cups from a spigot in a wooden barrel.

“Can ye fill this up?” asked Nash, handing the man his empty wineskin along with another coin.

“Aye,” said the man, slipping the coin into his pocket, and taking the wineskin from Nash. His wife and young son sat behind him at a table with a basket of kittens underneath it.

“Would ye like to buy yer lass a kitten?” called out the woman. “My son’s stray cat just had a litter a few weeks ago and we canna keep them all. They will hunt down rats twice their size.”

“No, thank ye,” said Nash, but Kellina loved animals and didn’t feel the same about it. Actually, Nash loved animals, too, but didn’t know what they’d do with a kitten right now.

“How much?” asked Kellina.

“Five pence each,” said the woman, making Nash almost choke on his spit.

“Five pence? Ye’ve got to be jestin’,” snorted Nash. “Why in heaven’s name would someone pay that high of a price for a cat?”

Kellina stepped around the front of the stall, hunkering down to pet the kittens. “They are so cute, Nash. Can ye come here and look at them at least?”

“If ye need me to, I guess,” said Nash, taking his wineskin back from the woman’s husband.

Kellina was onher knees now, and several kittens had climbed up onto her lap. She picked up one and then another, peeking into the basket at the rest.

Kellina’s heart went out to the little kittens that were all brown and white, except for one that seemed to be the runt of the litter and was black with a white ring around one eye.

“They are so precious,” said Kellina, picking one up and cuddling it to her chest.

“And most likely loaded with fleas.” Nash took the kitten from her and placed it back in the basket. “Come along, Kellina, there is more to see.”

“I like the kittens,” she told him, still staring at the basket.

“We are no’ payin’ the wench that price for a cat. We can find a stray one along the road if ye really need one.”