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“Is she the new Lady MacLeod?” Rory asked as others approached them.

“She is,” Lady Moira replied, her eyes filled with pride.

“Aye.” Rory nodded. “Welcome to the clan.”

Some of the villagers came to introduce themselves, talk about their concerns, and wish Isla well. Yet some still kept their distance.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ewan. He was on his horse, just arrived at the village, accompanied by a few warriors. His eyes darkened as soon as he saw her.

He had not spoken one single word to her ever since Alisdair made his position clear. He never sat at the table when she was there, never joined them for dinner. He scoffed every time she spoke, or simply left the room. And he remained the person that the people still wary of her presence rallied around.

She knew that he was constantly keeping a close eye on her, waiting for her to slip. She had decided to ignore him and not even attempt to win his favor.

“Let’s give away the offerings,” Lady Moira said, tapping her arm gently.

Isla nodded. The MacLeods could not have received her more differently. Lady Moira loved her openly, accepting her as her own. Ewan hated her and wanted her gone. And Alisdair…

Her chest tightened at the thought.

“Aye, Auntie,” she said, swallowing her bitterness. “Let’s give away the offerings. I have prepared healing herbs for the winter.”

For a while, they walked around the village, giving away the offerings and chatting with people curious about their new Lady. Isla forgot about Ewan, though she could feel him follow her like a shadow.

“Callum!” An agonized scream pierced the joyful atmosphere.

Isla moved toward it before she had even decided to, not waiting to see who followed.

At the edge of the village, she found a boy who had fallen into a soft patch of ground, his small arm bent at an unnatural angle.

“Callum.” His mother was about to take him into her arms.

“Daenae move him!” Isla hurried to her side.

Everyone turned and looked at her, and soon she felt them gather around her.

“Nice to meet ye, Callum.” She leaned over the boy, who was wailing. “I am Isla.”

The boy turned to her, his wails quieting.

“I ken ye are in a lot of pain, but I am here to help. Be a brave boy for me, will ye?”

The boy nodded and bit his lip, sniffling.

Isla smiled and then looked at his arm. It was evidently broken.

“Now, Callum, that was a very bad fall, but ye will be just fine. Just bear with me. Ye are such a brave little boy.”

The boy nodded and started crying again.

Isla turned to the people around her. “I need some bark, or stiff leather. Luckily, it’s broken at a place that willnae set wrong, and he is still young.”

The people around her sprang into action as she checked the herbs she was carrying. She quickly chose the right ones and fetched water from the well herself to prepare an herbal paste.

“We need to reduce the swelling,” she explained to the boy’s mother. “Daenae worry. He is a strong lad.”

The young mother looked up at her, and Isla gave her a reassuring smile.

As she talked softly to the boy, she prepared the bandages, used the knitbone to harden them, and tied the hard leather around them for support. Then, without thinking, she tore a strip of fabric from her skirt and bound it across his chest to stop his arm from moving.