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Plastering on what she knew was a demure expression, her face soft and eyes downcast, she let out a sigh. “It has been a task filled day. I dinnae mind because I wish to help mum as much as I can, but I do become weary of doing everything. My sisters barely do a thing to help.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic look. “I am sure yer mum is grateful for ye. Shame on yer sisters. I must admit, I rarely see either of them. Is nae Ceit sickly?”

Moyra took a sharp breath at her gaffe. Of course everyone was aware by now of Ceit’s fall. The daft lass had fallen from a horse when trying to help their father and had broken her leg.

“Ah, yes, she is. I spent the day helping Camden with the caring of that poor lad, and also to retrieve herbs to help with Ceit’s care,” Moyra replied, hoping to distract the woman from her earlier comment.

The woman’s smile returned. “I am sure my nephew appreciates yer help more than he will say. Now that Beitris is married, I am hopeful he brings on an apprentice soon to help him with all the tasks.”

She’d not considered that he’d get an apprentice. What if he asked a woman? Then it would be harder for her to get close to him. To find excuses. Moyra was glad that Beitris was not about as much as before; it gave her more time alone with Camden. However, a woman apprentice could be problematic.

“I am sure he will find help soon. Until then, I will be more than happy to help where I can,” Moyra said.

Walking out with all her errands done, Moyra slid a look toward Camden’s home. It was hard not to go there, but her mother was waiting, and there would be hell to pay if she didn’t return promptly.

Upon entering her family’s cramped cottage, Moyra was greeted by the unbecoming sight of her mother and older sister, Sencha, toiling. Her sister churned butter, while her mother sat with a half-made basket between her legs weaving thin willow into a form. Her fingertips were raw and some bled. Moyra looked away in disgust. Both their hands were calloused from their insistence on doing such menial tasks.

“Start the meal Moyra,” her mother said by way of greeting, her expression pinched. “Ye took too long, yer da and brother will be home soon.”

Without speaking, Moyra placed the heavy basket on the kitchen table. Then she went over to where her sister was. “It is late nae to have the butter done.”

Sencha let out an exasperated breath. “I am doing both mine and Ceit’s chores. The garden needed weeding, the hens needed feeding, and the eggs needed gathering. Meanwhile, ye were late to rise and then out about the village without a worry.”

Their youngest sister, Ceit, had taken ill and been forced to remain in bed.

“Who says?” Moyra snapped. “I stood in line at the butchers for a long time. Then I to wait at…” she hesitated then realizing there was no bread baking, she continued, “As I knew neither ye nor mother would have time to bake, I saved a coin and bought some bread.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Ye could have saved it. We dinnae have coin to spare.”

Of course she was never thanked or appreciated for anything she did. Moyra fought the urge to flee, to get away. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go. Outside the village, she didnae ken a soul. She was condemned to remain in Tokavaig. If her plans went well, it wouldn’t be for much longer. Once married, she’d convince Camden to leave Skye.

Moyra stomped to the kitchen table and placed her purchases atop them, then fetched wood for cooking. The entire time she fought the urge to tell them how much she not only hated her life, but them as well. The hatred for her lot in life is what gave her the strength to get what she wanted—a better life. By any means necessary.

“Moyra.” Her mother’s voice broke through the haze of her daydreaming, and Moyra screamed. Shaking her arm violently as flames consumed the sleeve of her blouse. Sencha grabbed the picture of drinking water and doused the flames, her face etched with concern.

“Sit. I will see about yer arm. Hopefully ye are nae badly burned.” Her sister took her by the elbow guiding her to a chair, as her mother left the room with a pail, presumably to fetch more water.

Sencha peered down at the scored fabric. “I will fetch some cloths. We will have to make a salve.”

When her sister turned her back, Moyra’s lips curved despite the painful throbbing from the burn. This was an unexpected good turn. The burn would give her a reason to spend time alone with Camden.

Just as her mother reentered, Moyra stood holding her injured arm up with her other hand. The pain was becoming increasingly worse.

“I will go to the healer. I prefer he see about this. I dinnae want scarring, and he will see about it better than ye can.”

“Moyra,” Sencha uttered. “Ye are pale and shaking.”

She gave her sister a pointed look. “Ye can see about dinner. I will go see Camden, and he will care for my injury better than ye both could.”

Chapter Five

Camden and Brae ate in companionable silence. He’d managed to make a tasty stew of potatoes and meat that he’d purchased earlier that day. They sopped up the liquid with bread and washed it down with cider.

“I am well enough to leave,” Brae said, breaking the silence. “I cannae continue to take advantage of yer hospitality. For which I am verra grateful for,” he added.

The young man had nowhere to go and would no doubt sleep outdoors. He was still very sick and would require much rest to heal. “Ye are nae healed enough to leave. There is a spare room. Ye will stay here, until yer better and can find work and earn coin for yerself.”

Although very swollen, Brae was able to open his eyes enough to see. He was still young, barely a man, yet he showed himself to be well-mannered and eager to please. “I will help ye here as much as I can.”