A Hellion for the Highlander

And so, Cicilia sat tight. She knew that her family was already well-off compared to some other farmers. Still, her Daddy wanted to make enough to keep his family and everyone in their employ comfortable.

When she was little, that had just been Cicilia, Mammy, and Daddy, and Mammy’s friend, Angelica. Angelica cooked for them and got paid in return, which Cicilia had heard was because she didn’t get on well with her own daddy.

I always thought that was really sad. Imagine nae lovin’ yer daddy like I do!

When Cicilia was three, Angelica married George Humphries, and she thought for a while that Angelica would move away. But Daddy had insisted she stay, and George, too. He became their driver, adding to the growing collection of well-paid farmhands.

A year later, Jeanie was born, and Cicilia’s parents kept paying Angelica even while she was taking care of the bairn. Cicilia had once asked why, and Daddy had told her:

“Och, me love. Ye must always treat yer workers an’ yer servants as ye’d want them to treat ye if positions were switched.”

And that was why Mammy and Daddy went out to the fields every day, even though they had all these workers now. That was why, even though Daddy kept hiring and expanding, both of Cicilia’s parents were determined to do their part.

Cicilia understood. She even was proud of how hard her parents worked and how much everyone loved and supported them as a result. She loved helping out, especially when Daddy took her along to his trades.

Me Daddy is so clever. He sells everythin’ just a wee bit cheaper than other farmers and makes so much more money than everyone else!

And now people were even coming from afar for the privilege of working for them! Oh, Cicilia knew that there were some people that her Daddy dealt with that he wasn’t supposed to. It was not a hugely significant matter, though. All grown-ups had their secrets, and Cicilia was proud to be keeping his.

Now there they were. Daddy and Mammy were both dirty and tired but happy. They ran to her, and all three embraced. It didn’t matter that they worked such long hours. It didn’t even matter that she’d been lonely.

“When we’re gone, Cicilia, this’ll all be yer’s,” her Daddy told her.

“Gone?” Cicilia asked fearfully. “Where are ye goin’?”

“Hush, Cam,” Mammy replied. “Dinnae ye worry, pet. Nae matter what happens, me an’ yer Daddy will always be with ye.”

“Promise?” Cicilia pressed.

“Promise,” both her parents said, over and over again, echoing in her ears. “We promise.”

Cicilia awoke with tears in her eyes, staring up at the ceiling once more. The birds were singing, but the dawn hadn’t fully broken, and the rooster wasn’t yet crowing.

That dream is always so bittersweet. I long to see me parents, but then I have to leave them all over again.

It was no surprise that she should have such a dream. After yesterday, no doubt, her father’s spirit was gazing over her in disapproval. To have lost such a large swathe of her livestock and be no closer the next day as to how it happened!

Sorry, Daddy. Dinnae ye worry. I’ll fix it like I always do.

And Alexander was going to help. This thought gave her pause, though quite different from the feelings she’d been having the previous night. Now, her mind was refreshed, not clouded with emotion, and able to focus on the individual parts of what she had to do.

No doubt, it was pleasant of Alexander to offer funds and to remain on the premises longer. Cicilia genuinely believed that he wanted to help. That said, he was still the Laird, and, no matter how kind, always a threat. He knew about her father now. He knew about the book.

An’ that’s only a quick skim through. Lord only kens what he’d do if he got some o’ the information in there.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and then slid quickly out of bed. A plain woven farm gown today, the kind she wore when she was working with the cows—it was the quickest way to be ready to leave the house.

Once Cicilia was dressed, she rooted under her bed until she managed to locate the book again. It wasn’t safe for it to remain here, not when Alexander knew where it was. No, she’d have to hide it somewhere on the farm.

The twin’s hidin’ place for their sweetmeats is in the stables. He doesn’ae like gettin' muddy, an’ what’s muckier than a horse?

Bundling the book in a shawl, she stole out of the house, only pausing once to peek in on the twins. They were still snoring softly, and Jamie had clambered into Annys’s bed for comfort. The scene tugged at Cicilia’s heart, but she didn’t have more than a few seconds to

spare on it.

When she got outside, the sun was peeking over the horizon, and the farm was slowly coming to life. It was still quiet, though, quiet enough, at least, that she was sure she could slip to the stables without anyone noticing and be back inside before the cock crowed.

Most of the horses were still asleep when she entered. However, the Irish Cob filly Alexander had ridden here snorted in greeting. Cicilia stopped by her stall to pet her nose, then turned her attention to the loose board at the back of the stable.