’Twas probably not the best idea to tell the lass that once they started talking about healing herbs and medical practices, he’d closed his ears to the conversation. Although he could slice a mon with his broadsword, fell an animal with an arrow, and wring a chicken’s neck, when it came to healing and stitching up, his stomach generally rebelled. He had the embarrassing habit of fainting like some swooning lass at the sight of his own blood. “Aye, I did for a while, but women’s talk eventually makes me close up my ears.”
Katie snorted. “Typical man. Make ye nervous, does it?”
“Nay,” he snapped. “Healing is women’s work.” They rode for a few minutes while Katie smirked. “Are ye not going to tell me, then? A punishment for not paying attention?”
Katie shook her head. “Nay. It seems there’s a young lass—Mrs. Freya MacDuff—getting ready for her first bairn, and she’s quite nervous about it.”
“Isn’t it normal to be a wee bit scared?” He made sure to stay far away from pregnant women, but occasionally he would overhear talk among the lasses, whether he wanted to or not.
“Yes. Women do die in childbirth. My mum, in fact, was one. But there are also many, many healthy births, with happy mothers at the end.”
He studied her profile. Her face had gone from happy to sad in a matter of minutes. “Have ye attended a lot of births, then?”
“Aye. Mum let me accompany her many times. ’Twas most unfortunate that she was the one who died, with all the women we helped.” She shook her head. “She was a good woman. I miss her every day.”
Katie seemed to shake herself from the melancholy that had overtaken her. “Mistress MacCabe is the local healer, as you might have determined.”
“Aye. I thought as much.”
“She is getting on in years and asked me if I would take over her role in the community.” She turned to him, her eyes bright, her face flushed. “I would love to do that. I enjoy my work as a healer and gained a great deal of satisfaction from helping those in pain.”
He rode for a few minutes in silence, not too sure that it was a good idea. “’Tis a noble cause, for sure. But will ye have enough time to do that and still run the estate? ’Tis a big job yer taking on. The lands, tenants, the castle, all the staff, and now healing?” He shook his head. “I dinnae ken if that would work.”
“Aye. I did it all back in Stirlingshire.”
“And ye said one of the reasons ye left was it was too much for ye to keep up, and the place had begun to fall apart.”
“’Twas because of my da’s fondness for drink, too, ye ken. He spent all the coin on trips and seeing to his pleasure. That caused me more trouble than how busy I was.”
The opportunity had presented itself, and he would not let it pass. “Tell me again why ye decided to move yer whole clan to Fife? Ye just said again ’twas one of the reasons ye left, which leads me to believe ’twas another reason. More than just the run-down condition of yer da’s estate? What was the other reason?”
Katie looked at him briefly, then glanced away. Everything in her body screamed she was hiding something. “Aye. I misspoke. That was the only reason. Just to have a better place to live.” She looked up quickly. “Also, the fact that the MacDuff lands belong to me.”
“Aye. That fairy tale again.”
“’Tis not a fairy tale. A Bannerman Lady was a MacDuff about one hundred years ago. The MacDuff property should have come to Mistress MacDuff Bannerman on her brother’s passing. But the poor woman’s husband had just died, and she being heavy with child couldn’t travel to Dumfries to claim the land. So her cousin Sean stole it.”
He considered that as they continued on for a few minutes until they reached the next cottage. Evan pulled on his reins about a quarter mile out from the house. “Just a minute.”
“Aye?”
“A lovely story to be sure, but I wonder why ye haven’t told that part of it before now. Ye are hiding something, Mistress Katie Stirling of Stirlingshire. Why do I think there is another reason why ye decided to move everyone from one place to the next? And dinnae tell me ’twas because yer mum was cheated out of this place.”
She stared at the back of the horse’s head.
He moved his horse closer so their legs were almost touching. He bent his head to look into her eyes. “I would have the truth from ye, lass.”
Chapter Twelve
Katie continued to study the back of the horse’s head as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. Anything to keep her from looking directly at Evan. She could deny there being any other reason, but she’d never been good at lying. If she didn’t have to look the other person in the face she might—just might—get away with it. But if he demanded she look at
him, she would begin to fidget. Then her face would turn red, and then she would look heavenward, as if to ask for celestial assistance.
“I’m waiting, lass.”
She took a deep breath and faced him. “Aye. There is another reason. Richard Armstrong.”
She said no more, and eventually, with Evan staring her down, she glanced away.