Alan grinned, looking down at the women in the field while they harvested carrots and radishes from the garden, one of them with hair like fire, the other a chestnut brown. They were both lost in the work, yet they made it look so graceful and unencumbered. Jain could make even the most mundane of tasks seem like artwork. He heaved a tired sigh and sat down on the center beam, resting for a moment from their labor.

He continued watching her, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of her body as she stood and dusted the loam off her skirts. Then she pulled a kerchief from her brow, lifting her face and closing her eyes. Alan watched her for a moment and the bundle of thatch began to slip. He snatched then up before they blew away as well. Alan let his gaze drift over to Jain one more time and caught sight of a flame of red curls dancing.

How long had he been watching her like this? It seemed to be more of a regular occurrence these days. She was such a delightful distraction.

Alan was pulled back to the work at hand when Rodrick grunted. He tied another bundle of thatch and asked, “Do ye need help there, Rodrick?”

His companion sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow before responding. “Nae, it’s just my back is sore.”

Alan nodded, but didn’t feel the same exhaustion Rodrick did. He’d been working as a blacksmith for years now and the training made him strong. His hands were hard and calloused from hours of working near the coals on unforgiving steel, so the fibers of thatching a roof could not compare. Replacing the roof was no small task for any man, but the men in Elign took care of one another. It wouldn’t benefit any of them to let the family freeze in the winter months, and Eamon was too old to complete the task himself.

Alan didn’t mind the challenge. He welcomed it with an open heart. Alan enjoyed the change of pace from the heat and brutal fire of working in the blacksmiths. Besides, he enjoyed the view quite a bit … and the company as well.

His master was Moira’s older brother, and she and Eamon made a point of frequenting the blacksmith regularly. Jain would come along with them, standing quietly behind them as she admired the weapons hanging on the wall. With her stunning red hair and milky complexion, she was the vision of Scottish beauty, but there was a fire inside her not many others saw. Alan could see it in her eyes, a hunger for the unknown begging to be unleashed.

Every now and then, he’d catch a glimpse of her tenacity and it would leave him breathless. Over the years their friendship grew. She expressed interest in his own metal working skill, unafraid of the weighty tools. She could make him laugh and carry on conversations for hours that would captivate his attention. Her company was so odd and refreshing that Alan found himself seeking it more and more. Jain didn’t behave like the other lasses in the village. They preened their looks and flaunted themselves in front of eligible bachelors in hopes of catching themselves a husband, but Alan thought Jain even lovelier than the rest without her even trying. He counted himself lucky that she chose to spend her time watching him shape weapons in the smithy.

More than her passion or her beauty, Alan knew her to be kind—that meant more to him than a pretty face. She was a rare jewel. He gazed down at her and she caught him just before he had the chance to look away.

“Hand me another batch,” Rodrick asked, pulling Alan’s attention away from the fiery lass in the garden below.

Alan bent to grab another bundle and offered it to him. “Here ye go, Rodrick.”

His friend laughed, taking the batch of thatching from him with a sly smile on his face. “Are ye watching Jain again?”

“Aye, ye ken me too well,” Alan chuckled, pulling the tie of his own handful of thatch and securing it to the center beam.

“I might have suspected as much. Keep yer eyes on the work, will ye? The lass can wait.”

Alan’s smile widened as he positioned the thatching in place and turned to see Moira coming up the path on the ground beneath them. “Suppose ye’re right.”

Just when he finished tying the reeds, she called up to them from below. “Rodrick. Alan. Will ye lads be joining us fer dinner?”

Alan wiped sweat off his forehead with the fabric of his sleeve and said, “Aye, that’s very kind of ye.”

Moira chuckled, and placed her hands on either hip. “We cannae have ye going hungry after all the work ye’ve done.” Then her gaze shifted from Alan to Rodrick. “I ken Aileen will be grateful fer the company.”

Alan grinned at the tongue-in-cheek appraisal, glancing over at Rodrick.

“What about Jain?” Rodrick chuckled, securing the final batch in place. “Alan seems more interested in her than finishing the roof.”

Alan cast him a warning glare from the corner of his eye and the woman scoffed. “Aye, she’ll be there as well. Finish up then and we’ll have the evening meal ready in nae time.”

“We’ll be down presently,” Alan assured her and started cleaning up their tools before climbing back down the ladder.

As he stepped down onto the grass, Aileen and Jain emerged from the garden with their baskets overflowing with radishes, carrots, and lettuce. He watched them join Moira at the gate, bringing the vegetables with them, and then disappear into the house. Rodrick came down right behind him and started brushing off his clothes when they saw Eamon coming back from the chicken coop with his pants smeared with blood.

“Eamon!” he called out in greeting. “How are ye faring?”

The man looked back at him and smiled. Silver streaked his hair around the temples and his eyes crinkled from years of laughter that his wife and child brought him. “Oh, good to see ye, Alan. Everything’s well, we just had a bit of trouble with a fox getting in the coop. Are ye lads going to be joining us fer supper?”

Alan nodded. “Aye, Moira already extended the invitation. We’re grateful fer the opportunity.”

“Nonsense, we’re glad to have ye. That’s some fine work ye did on the roof, I imagine ye must be starved. Come inside and get some food. Moira doesn’t like to be kept waiting. She and the Jain will have a fine meal prepared soon enough.”

Alan and Rodrick wiped off their hands and climbed down the ladder on the side of the house. They were both tired after a long day of work and the promise of food was a welcome reward after hours in the sun. Eamon gestured for them to come inside and they quickly bustled into the kitchen. “Were ye able to sort out the coop?” Moira asked.

Eamon sighed, rubbing out a stain of dirt. “The mess is gone, but the hens are still riled up. I patched the fence again, so it should keep the fox out this time.”

While they discussed what to do about the chicken coop, Alan’s gaze settled on Jain across the room. She was tying a bundle of herbs together to hang from the rafters where they would dry. He could smell the basil, chives, and oregano from where he stood, and a few other he couldn’t recognize.

He carefully made his way over to her and asked, “Shall I help ye hang that when ye’re finished?”

Jain glanced at him sidelong when he spoke, and smiled.

“Thank ye,” she said when she finished securing the knot. He took the bundle of herbs when Jain handed it to him and hung it up with the others. Jain beamed at him and stood up to watch what he was doing.

When they were secured properly, he brushed off his hands and asked, “Now what?”

Jain glanced around the room at his inquiry and her gaze settled on her mother. He knew about her failing hip and understood immediately. Alan took a step closer to where Moira stood and kept an eye on her in case she needed him. Sometimes, weakness came on without any warning, so she wouldn’t be able to stand. If that happened, Alan wanted to be in a position where he could catch her.

“Da, ye should have Alan show ye the blade he brought. It’s a fine one,” Jain said to her father with a smile.

Alan grinned at the compliment and led him over to the table where his work was still resting on a length of cloth. Eamon nodded with approval when he saw it and carefully lifted it for inspection. “Lad, this is exquisite work. Ye’ve outdone yerself this time.”

“I’m just glad ye’re pleased.”

“Very much. Someone with skill like yers should be in a larger town. Ye could make a fine living selling pieces such as these.”

Before Alan could respond, Moira called out, “Jain, we need some water from the spring house. Do ye mind fetching a pail?”

Jain stood up and nodded. “Yes, Mam.”

“Be careful. It’s getting dark outside,” her da warned.

“That’s a good lad,” Eamon said, clapping him on the back in approval.

“Mam, do ye mind if I take Angus a carrot on the way?”

Moira shook her head. “Nae. Ye’re more than welcome, lass.”

Jain grinned as she grabbed one of the carrots from off the table and picked up her fur-lined cloak off a hook on the wall. She retrieved two buckets by the door and handed one of them to him. He took it from her and followed her out into the evening chill. They stepped out onto the grass and she exhaled a tired sigh, glancing back at him. Angus was in his pen outside and Jain walked over to pat him on the side. The chestnut brown stallion stamped his foot with excitement at the sight of her.

Jain held up the carrot and offered it to him. Angus ate it happily and sniffed at her clothes, likely trying to smell if she was hiding any more.

Alan chuckled, watching her interact with the big animal. He’d noticed she was fond of horses, and Angus especially.

“I think he loves ye as much as ye love him.”

Jain rested her forehead on Angus’s muzzle. “He was the very horse Da rode when he found me. I first rode into Elign on Angus’s back. I was scared and heartbroken, but I could always come out here to the stables and talk to him. Even if he was just a horse and didn’t understand what I was saying, I could tell Angus anything. I could tell him things that I couldn’t explain to my parents. That brought me a tremendous amount of comfort at the time – I grew quite fond of him.”

With the carrot gone, Jain patted him again and joined Alan on their walk to the spring house.

There was a dirt path leading down the hill beside her house towards a stone hut that covered a water spring. She started down the familiar trail and pulled her wool cloak up tight around her chin to fend off the autumn breeze. The sun was not yet down, but the evening air brought an icy chill across the highland hills.

Alan followed close behind, singing to himself to keep the feeling light. He loved to sing and only partially because it made her smile. She glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye and grinned, wrapping her arms around her chest.

“Ye dinnae have to do this,” she told him gently. “I’m perfectly capable of fetching it myself.”

“I ken ye are, but is it really the point? Isn’t it better to have some company?”

A smile slowly spread across her face. “Perhaps.”