“It isn’t as if they’ll never see one another again,” Quinn grumbled as Rodric bade Caitlin one final goodbye.

Their fifth final goodbye, by Brice’s count.

“Let’s go, then,” Fergus called out, still with a good-natured note in his voice, which Brice knew would quickly sour if the fourth member of their party did not make haste to join them.

It was now well past sun-up, the day promising to be a fair one, and they were already losing time.

They’d worked it out among themselves, and it appeared as though they might be able to make it back before the first frost if they were smart about covering as much ground as they could, when they could.

Clearly, Rodric had forgotten what they’d only just discussed.

“Come on, then!” Brice called out, allowing the irritation of all three of them to reveal itself in his voice. There was a time for courtesy, and there was a time to get down to business. They would need to ride to the village and confirm with old Murphy, their longtime go-between, that they’d take on the responsibility of the journey.

Just how Murphy managed to learn of such opportunities for work such as theirs had always been a mystery to everyone. He seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

So long as those eyes and ears kept benefitting them, Brice wasn’t concerned about the specifics.

Rodric mounted his horse, avoiding the eyes of his friends as the four of them started down the trail leading to the road. Brice turned in the saddle as the others did, waving farewell to Sorcha and Caitlin. They would make the short ride to the Anderson house in a matter of minutes.

Caitlin waved back, making certain to hold Brice’s gaze when she did. He knew what she silently urged, just as she had urged before. And he would do his level best to keep her husband safe, just as he always had.

Though why it had to be his responsibility was not a question he’d ever dare ask her.

Of all of them, he was closest to Rodric. It made sense, he supposed, that he should be the one to watch over his friend. Not that Fergus or Quinn wouldn’t be just as well-suited to the task.

Perhaps it was the easy kinship which he’d developed with Caitlin during their journey together which had left her more likely to call on him, then. She had seemed to latch onto him, in a way, likely because he was always quick to throw a jest in Rodric’s direction and she had appreciated that at the time.

She’d appreciated it most heartily, as she and Rodric had been in a sort of silent war. Before they’d finally come to their senses and admitted their love for each other.

It all seemed very silly to him and had at the time.

The trail soon opened to the wider road, well-trod, and the four of them rode in two pairs toward the village. Rodric to Brice’s left, while Fergus was behind him and Quinn to the right.

“It was a real stroke of luck, your brother coming through when he did.” Brice chose his words carefully, still aware of how he’d nearly spoiled Caitlin’s news the day before.

Rodric hadn’t brought it up, but Brice wondered if that was merely because he’d wished to wait until they were away from the women.

“Aye, it was that,” Rodric conceded. “Leave it to Padraig to save my hide once again. I’ll rest easier, knowing she’s under his protection. Aside from you three and the Duncans, I trust him over any other man alive.”

“If you only knew what your wife wished for me to argue on her behalf.” No harm in telling him now, with the four of them already well on their way to the village. She wouldn’t have to know he’d told tales.

Rodric merely rolled his eyes and groaned. “What was it, then? Do not tell me she wished to join us.”

“She did that,” Brice chuckled.

“I should’ve known. I’d expected something along those lines, between the two of us. And damn my weak soul, I was already half-convinced it wouldn’t be a terrible thing at that.”

“What?”

“I know. You needn’t chastise me. I’m certain that by the time it came for us to leave, I would’ve changed my mind.”

Brice wasn’t so certain of this. Not at all. “Well, as it is, the babe would’ve kept her in place at Sorcha’s.”

“Aye, and I might have asked my brother to take her in then, had I known before he came. It all worked out as it was meant to, I suppose.”

“I suppose so.” Brice glanced at his friend. “And it will continue to do so. We’ll return before the first frost and perhaps take one or two more journeys before winter comes in earnest. Perhaps it would not be ill-advised for us to take up winter quarters with your brother.”

Rodric stiffened in the saddle. “We’ll discuss it when the time comes.”

Brice grumbled at the repetition of the same answer Rodric had given time and again, whenever the question of the coming winter was voiced. “It’s certainly something we have to decide, and soon. I don’t know if I wish to spend another winter riding hither and yon, hoping the next village has an inn with an available room. I already spent part of last winter doing just that.”

“We all did,” Rodric snapped. “You were not alone.”

“Aye, but it’s my nearly frostbitten toes I’m concerned with,” Brice snapped in return. “Not yours. You can worry about your own.”

“What are the two of you on about?” Fergus called out from behind.

“The winter,” Brice replied, staring ahead.

“That again?” Quinn asked, almost whining. “Why must we go on and on about it? I don’t wish to freeze this year, not if there is somewhere we might bed down until the worst passes.”

“And ye know Padraig already offered us the hospitalities of the house,” Fergus reminded Rodric.

“And your wife will be there, and ye might spend the entire, long winter with her.” Brice knew this would sweeten the idea immeasurably. It was a bit unfair on his part to use Caitlin in his argument, but he needed all the help he could get.

Just why his friend was so determined not to take Padraig up on his offer was a mystery to all of them.

Rodric glowered for a while, the four of them riding in an uneasy silence which only the singing of the birds and the occasional rustling of animals along both sides of the road broke into. They’d all known each other long enough to know when silence was the best course of action.

All four of them were reasonable men, but even the most reasonable man had a breaking point. Push him too far, and one might regret having pushed at all.

If only they could understand what made the idea of making use of Padraig’s hospitality so unattractive to Rodric. It seemed simple enough to the rest of them. The house was there, with plenty of space for them to be comfortable, and the clan’s leader had opened its doors to them.

It was Rodric’s damnable pride. It had to be. He wanted no man’s charity—especially if the man was his younger brother. Even if it wasn’t charity at all, but merely good sense and self-preservation.

All Brice knew was that owning ten toes was preferable to owning nine or fewer. Not to mention his fingers, which had also nearly frozen. Pride was little comfort when one had to adapt to life without all his fingers.

They didn’t exchange another word until the village was in sight, and it was already mid-morning by then.

“Murphy should be expecting us at the inn,” Quinn reminded them. “I told him ye would accept the task, and he said he’d wait here for us.”

The four of them went inside, after tying the horses off at the post running along the front of the squat little building.

Just beyond the entrance was a large room filled with tables and chairs, where the inn’s patrons were fed twice per day. It was not nearly time for dinner, yet several of the tables were already in use by men wishing to discuss business or merely pass the time in conversation.

Murphy was one such man, and one swift glance confirmed that he still had yet to adopt the practice of ever washing himself or his clothing, though his main line of work had to do with horses and their typical filth. The occasional washing-up might have done him much good—as well as providing mercy to those with whom he spent his time.

What remained of his teeth showed when he smiled, waving the four of them over to where he waited.

“Ye took your time about gettin’ here,” he grumbled in his usual good-natured way. “I was beginnin’ to think I might have to find pleasurable ways to pass the time.”

There was no question of what he referred to, and Brice chuckled to himself when he considered how grateful every lass at the brothel would be that they’d arrived before Murphy could pay a visit. If flies circled the man’s head as they did the ass of a horse, it wouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“Can you tell us anything else about the lass we’re set to escort?” Rodric asked. “Or her father?”

“Douglas Stewart? Och, he’s a force of a man, to be certain,” Murphy observed. “Likes to believe himself quite the warrior, and perhaps he is. Though I’ve never heard the tale of him fighting in battle, mind ye. But he carries a war hammer much of the time, and enjoys bullying others with the threat of using it to bash in their skulls.”

“He sounds like a charming man,” Fergus surmised with a wry grin.

“Aye, so I would be certain not to dally when it comes to deliverin’ his daughter,” Murphy advised. “He’ll be expectin’ ye to deliver the lass in a timely manner and fully intact, if ye get my meanin’.”

Rodric cast a disparaging eye. “As though any of us could be accused of taking liberties with a lass.”

“I only thought I might warn ye,” Murphy replied, mirth in his voice and on his face. “Ye see, the lass… she’s a handful, and I believe that’s puttin’ it mildly. From what I’ve heard, old Douglas Stewart has had his hands full with her ever since it was announced she’d be weddin’ this earl. Already tried to run away once, though she didna get far. Threatened to starve herself, too. All manner of devilishness. My friend, the one who came to me with the request from the earl, warned me of her tendencies—which is why I’m warnin’ ye now. She’ll like as not use everything in her power to get out of marryin’.”

“Even if it means luring one of us,” Brice inferred.

“Aye. Just that. So, strengthen yourselves.” Murphy laughed, his sour breath assaulting them as he did. “Especially this one, here.” He motioned to Quinn with a fresh burst of foul laughter.

“Why is it that everyone assumes I’m quick to bed a woman?” Quinn asked as they mounted their horses outside the inn.

“Perhaps because you are.” Brice laughed as the four of them started on their way to Lockerbie.

Though even as he laughed, he made a mental note to keep an eye on his friend, and the young woman they were set on meeting.