Ewan curried a horse he had borrowed for an afternoon ride out to see the homesteaders, his movements brusque as he focused on his thoughts rather than the horse.

“If you show no regard for the animal, it will show you none when you need it,” Bears said in his deep, wise voice. He half smiled as Ewan jumped at his voice. “Focus on each task set before you, and you will find peace.”

Ewan glared at Bears. “Do you ever tire of spouting your nonsense?” When Bears watched him with implacable patience, Ewan heaved out a sigh. Rather than throwing the currying brush across the room as he desired, he gripped it tighter before letting out another breath and then focusing on the horse. The horse whinnied with approval, and Ewan’s tension eased further. “I hate that ye are right.”

Bears chuckled. “Your woman has more spirit than most. You need to learn to approach her with as much care.”

Ewan raised a brow. “Are ye sayin’ my Jessie is like this horse?”

Bears shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?” For once he seemed content to pause in his work and speak with Ewan. “When have you had success with her?”

Ewan frowned. “When I’ve treated her with kindness and patience.”

Bears nodded, his loose hair flowing around his shoulders like a black waterfall. “She’s not like your family. Loud. Constantly arguing. Teasing.”

“She is when she’s talking about her writing.” Ewan focused on the horse for a moment. “But that’s when she’s in charge. When she feels like she’s no’ in charge, that’s when she becomes …”

“Pricklier than a porcupine defending its soft underbelly,” Bears said as he tapped the top of the stall. “Earn her trust, Ewan. Respect her.”

Ewan watched as Bears walked away with an innate grace, his back straight, and his head held high and proud. Ewan finished currying the horse before returning the saddle and tack to the tack room and shutting the door behind him.

He paused as a customer entered the livery, lingering in the shadows, as Bears approached the man.

“I don’t want no half-breed carin’ for my horse,” the man said with a spat of tobacco in the dust. He leaned forward. “And, if you touch my horse, it’s half price.”

Bears stood tall and straight, his impassive gaze meeting that of the customer. “I’m afraid we will be unable to care for your animal. If you are unwilling to have me touch your flea-ridden, mud-fevered horse at the sole price we charge at the livery, you’ll have to take your business elsewhere.”

The man puffed out his chest. “Listen here. You have no right to turn me away. You’re the only livery for miles!”

Bears nodded. “Yes, we are. I am a partner here, not a laborer.” He stared at the man, waiting a few moments until the reins were thrown at him. “Your horse will be returned to you when your entire bill is paid.”

The man swore before storming out of the livery.

Bears patted the horse, earning a gentle nicker from the horse. “Shh, sweet one. You’ll feel better soon, although I cannot cure your misfortune in owner.”

Ewan laughed, and Bears looked over his shoulder. “Does this happen frequently?”

Bears nodded. “Yes. It occurred before the article, and it was more common for a little while. But men like him will always exist.” He shrugged. “The furor after her article has eased.”

Ewan watched as Bears clicked to the horse, leading him into a cleaned-out stall with fresh hay. After a few moments Ewan left the livery and moved next door to the kitchen, surprised to find Annabelle there. “What are ye doin’, Anna?” he asked.

She watched him with amusement. “Preparing dinner or I’ll never hear the end of belly aching from all of you.” She took a deep breath and arched her back.

“Perhaps ye should take it easy.” He held up his hands as she pointed a wooden spoon at him. “I’ll say nothin’ to Cail.”

“You’d better not.” She stirred the stew again, turned down the heat, and then sat at the table, smiling when he joined her. “You’ve seemed out of sorts for days, Ewan. What’s bothering you?”

“There’s a big poker match tomorrow. It’s distractin’ me.”

She shook her head. “No, you only find that entertaining. Whatever happened has injured you in some way. Your smile doesn’t shine as bright.”

He flushed. “This is what I get for having a sister who kens so much.” He smiled as she continued to frown at him. “I had hoped I would marry.” He nodded to her hands covering her stomach. “Maybe have a bairn of my own someday.” He shook his head.

“You will, Ewan. You’re still young. Barely thirty. You have your whole life to live.”

His lips lifted in a mockery of a smile. “She doesna want me, Anna. Twice I’ve asked, an’ twice she’s declined.” He met his sister-in-law’s shocked gaze. “There’s no reason to ask her again.”

Annabelle grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Oh, Ewan, I’m so sorry. I know how much you care for her.”

He shrugged. “I’m the fool. In all the times we quarreled, talked, and shared secrets, I canna remember tellin’ her that I loved her. Why should she have faith in me?”

Her eyes glinted with righteous anger for him. “You showed her in every way you could how much you loved her. If she didn’t understand, then she’s a fool.”

“Nae, Anna. I am. For a woman like her, words are important. I should have kent that, but when I stormed out of her print shop, I was so angry, I could barely see.” He rubbed a hand over his face, his whiskers now more of a beard.

She sighed. “There are other women in this town, Ewan.”

He glowered at her. “Dinna even consider pushing that Jameson woman in my direction. I willna marry her. I refuse to even speak with her.”

His sister-in-law smiled. “I know. But there are others.”

He shook his head. “No’ right now. No’ for me. Maybe someday.” He rose. “Thanks, Anna.”

When he approached the hallway door, she called out. “Ewan?” He paused to face her. “Don’t do anything foolish tomorrow night.” His mischievous smile resurfaced, and she shook her head in consternation.

“I willna make promises I canna keep.” He winked at her, and his boot steps sounded on the stairs as he headed to his room.

* * *

Ewan sat at the poker table, ignoring everything but the three players around the table. A miasma of smoke, sweat, and perfume filled the air, but he focused solely on his cards and the other players, searching for any signs or tells that would give him a hint of what they held in their hands. However, they were as experienced as he was and sat with impassive expressions as the hand played out.

A single oil lamp hung from a hook in the center of the room, lighting the table, but casting the rest of the room in deep shadows. Spectators hovered in those shadows, witnessing the intense gambling between the four who had not ceased playing for hours. Outside, dawn’s rays peeked over the mountains. Neither Ewan nor the others cared what time of day it was. This final hand would determine if they were bankrupt or rich.

As the pile of money in the center of the table increased, Ewan felt a trickle of sweat run down the middle of his back. He stood to lose his business if he lost this hand. “Call,” he demanded in an authoritative voice. He ignored the gasp from the corner of the darkened room as the Madam placed a piece of paper on the table.

“Money, Madam,” a man grunted.

“That’s better than any amount of money,” she snapped. She smiled with satisfaction as the scrap of paper was handed from man to man, and the grunts of agreement confirmed her words.

Ewan glared at her but showed no other emotion as he waited for them to display their cards. One man had a pair of jacks and a pair of queens. The other smiled and laid down a straight. The Madam gave a long-suffering sigh. The man who had laid down the straight ignored her as he assumed she had little of worth in her hand.

Then her gaze turned triumphant as she smiled and made sympathetic eyes at Ewan. “I’m so sorry about your business,” she murmured. She laid down her cards with a slight thwacking sound that set Ewan’s nerves on end. “Full house.”

Ewan met the Madam’s jubilant gaze. “I’m sorry about the loss of yer best whore.”

The spectators gasped as he dropped his cards on the table.

“I believe four of a kind beats yer full house.” He pushed away her hands and pulled the earnings toward him, scooping them into his hat.

The Madam sat in horror at his cards. “You’re a cheat!”

Ewan rose, leaning over the table. “Never say that again, unless ye wish to die a painful death.” He flushed. “Ye’re no’ dead now only because ye’re a woman.” He met the glances of the other two men who glared with equal fervor at the Madam. “I wouldna have been invited here had there been any doubt of my honor.”

The Madam stood with false bravado and flung her shoulders back. “I wonder if you would be willing to renegotiate?”

“Nae, Madam, I would no’.” He rose, smiling his thanks as someone from the shadows tossed him a burlap sack. He transferred the money from his hat into the sack and stared at the Madam. “I will meet ye at the Boudoir in ten minutes.”

“She won’t be ready to leave,” the Madam protested.

“Perhaps no’ but ye have no say on whether she stays or goes.” He nodded to the men who had played with him and walked down the stairs leading to the main section of the saloon. When he stood on the boardwalk, he took a deep breath of fresh air before cramming his hat on.

He jumped off the boardwalk, crossed the street, and walked behind the other row of buildings until he approached Alistair’s house. He knocked on the door and waited. When his brother opened the door, he met his frown with a smile. “I won,” he said as he held up the burlap sack.

Alistair tugged him inside, shutting out the cold. “Are ye daft? Ye should no’ boast of yer winnings.” He then laughed and pulled Ewan into a bear hug. “Well done, little brother.”

“I did no’ just win this money, Al. I won freedom.”

Alistair shook his head in confusion. “I dinna ken what ye mean.” He motioned for Ewan to follow him into the long hallway. He pulled up the loose floorboard under the tattered rug, and he watched as Ewan put the sack of money there. “As ye can see, we dinna have many valuables to conceal in the hideaway ye made for us.”

“This will keep it safe until I can go to the bank,” Ewan said.

“Aye, although ye should leave here with another bag. Someone will have seen ye come here with it, and I dinna want my home a target for burglars.” He led Ewan into the kitchen where Leticia and Hortence were having breakfast. Hortence beamed at Ewan.

“Hello, imp,” he said as he ruffled her hair. “Are ye off to school soon?”

“Yes, and we learn what parts we get in the Christmas play today.”

“Who do ye want to be?” Ewan asked as he smiled his thanks to Leticia for the cup of coffee she set in front of him.

“A Wiseman.”

“Ye ken they were men, no?” Ewan asked as he shared a smile with Leticia.

Hortence bounced in her chair with restless energy. “Girls can be just as wise as boys.”

Her uncle laughed. “Aye, ye have me there, wee Hortence.” He watched as she jumped from her chair to run upstairs for a moment before school.

After listening to her daughter scamper away, Leticia focused on Ewan. “Now, while we have a few minutes free of little ears, would you like to explain why you show up here in the early morning, smelling worse than the Boudoir and Stumble-Out combined?”

Ewan rubbed at his untrimmed beard and flushed. “I was at a poker match last night. All night.” He nodded his thanks as Alistair set a sack filled with rice and rocks next to him. “I won.” He smirked as Leticia gaped at him.

“Does this mean you will cease playing?”

He shrugged. “It means I have no desire to play at this moment. I wish I could go home, crawl into bed for the day, and then take a hot bath.”

“What was it about winning freedom?” Alistair asked as he took a sip of coffee.

A triumphant smile bloomed on Ewan’s face. “The Madam participated last night. And lost.” He met their curious stares. “She did no’ have enough money to cover her last bet, and she wagered one of her whores.”

“She has no right!” Leticia gasped.

“Perhaps no’, but, if she is no’ an idiot, I have won Fidelia her freedom.” He looked at Alistair. “Will ye come with me to the Boudoir as I extract her from the Madam’s control?”

Alistair smiled. “Aye.” He kissed Leticia on the head. “Perhaps today would be a good day for Annabelle to close the bakery. She will want to be home with her sister.”

Leticia nodded. “I’ll inform her of your news as I walk Hortence to school.” She clasped Ewan’s hand. “Well done, Ewan.”

Ewan smiled and flushed, grabbing the decoy burlap sack as he and Alistair walked outside. They approached the Boudoir, sharing a long look before they stepped onto the back porch. After their knock went unanswered, they eased the back door open. The kitchen was deserted, as most of the women breakfasted closer to noon.

“Come,” Ewan said as he ascended the rear stairs. He paused when he saw Ezekial standing outside of a crib. “Do you think ye can prevent me from collectin’ what is owed to me? A bet’s a bet.”

“I think you are being unreasonable in denying the Madam one of her most important assets.” Ezekial glared at the two brothers as he fingered his billy club.

Alistair glared at the brute. “Ye are barely tolerated in town, an’ I would think long and hard afore harming either of us. My wife is en route to inform Annabelle about her sister. Enough people in this town are aware of what occurred last night an’ this mornin’.”

“I believe an arrangement can be agreed upon.” Ezekial slapped the club in his palm.

“Aye, the arrangement where I collect what is owed to me,” Ewan hissed. He turned to the crib Ezekial guarded and banged on the flimsy door. “Wake up!” he snapped.

Ezekial backed away.

After a moment Ewan poked his head into the room and sighed. “Why in God’s name did I win a whore?” he muttered. He approached the bedside, frowning when he saw the small blue vial next to the bed on the miniscule table. “Laudanum,” he muttered. “A whore and an addict, all for one price.” He shook her shoulder until she woke. “Get up an’ get dressed. Ye dinna live here anymore.”

Fidelia Evans, known as Charity in the whorehouse, stared at him through bleary eyes. “Go away, Ewan. I saw my quota of customers already.”

“Nae,” Ewan snapped, his patience at an end. “I’m tired, an’ I want breakfast an’ another cup of coffee. I’m in no mood to argue with ye. Get dressed, or I’ll carry ye through the streets as ye are.” He saw his threat penetrate her medicine-dulled mind as she rose and turned to find clothes. “Wear the more respectable clothes. Not the bawdy-house ones.” He emerged into the hallway to await her, sharing a look with Alistair. Ezekial stood down the hall, his menacing presence a deterrent to any other Beauty thinking of departing with Ewan. Soon Ezekial disappeared downstairs in the direction of the kitchen.

After a few minutes Fidelia stumbled out of her small crib. Ewan grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him. “Come,” he muttered. “We might be in time for breakfast.” Alistair walked behind Fidelia, helping her as she walked like a drunken sailor.

The Madam stood with Ezekial behind her in the kitchen. “That’s it? You’ll take her from me as though she were nothing to me?”

Ewan stared from Fidelia to the Madam and back again. “Aye. She is nothin’ to ye. She’s earned money to feed yer gamblin’ habits. Seems ye’ll have to find another way to pay yer debts from now on.” He paused as the Madam moved forward and blocked their exit, and he glared at the owner of the Boudoir. “Let us pass, Madam.”

She ignored Ewan and focused on Fidelia. “You’ll be back here within a month. Within a week. You’re nothing more than a two-bit whore, hooked on opium. Not even your sister will want you now.”

Fidelia’s delayed reaction to move toward Ewan as though to evade the rancor from the Madam’s words provoked a scornful snort from the Madam. However, not even the Madam’s attempt at bravado could hide her panic at losing her prized whore.

“She isna yers any longer to threaten or abuse,” Ewan snapped. He gripped Fidelia by the elbow and towed her behind him. The door slammed shut behind them, and he slung one of Fidelia’s arms over his shoulder, while Alistair pulled her other over his. Between them, they half-walked, half-dragged her down the alleyway until they were nearly across from the livery.

“I canna tell if she’s shiverin’ from cold or from her need for more laudanum,” Ewan muttered as he tripped and nearly dropped Fidelia.

Alistair grunted as his hold on her tightened. He waited until Ewan had righted himself. “We’ll ken soon enough if it’s the cold. I fear it’s the laudanum.”

As they crossed Main Street, they nodded to those they met and ignored curious stares. When they arrived at Cailean’s house, Fidelia dug in her heels like a recalcitrant mule.

Alistair shared an amused smile with Ewan. “I dinna think her aware enough to ken where we were takin’ her.”

“No,” she rasped in a slurred voice. “I will not go in there. You can’t make me.”

“Come,” Ewan attempted in a soothing voice, although he knew he had failed when she flinched. “I’m hungry an’ tired, an’ I dinna want to fight ye. I have a story to tell, an’ I think yer sister will want to hear it.” He and Alistair carried her up the steps, into the house and the kitchen.

The quiet morning meal ground to a halt at their arrival. Cailean glowered at him. “I thought you were being lazy, not off at the Boudoir.”

Annabelle froze with a teacup halfway raised at the sight of her sister with Ewan. “Fidelia!” she cried, rising to hug her sister. “Oh, you’ve finally left the Boudoir!”

Fidelia stood like a statue in her sister’s embrace. “I was kidnapped this morning by this lunatic and his brother. I have no idea why Ezekial didn’t stop him.” She sat as Ewan pushed her into a chair. “Will you stop towing and pushing me around? I can choose what I want to do in my life!” She missed Annabelle’s frown at her slurred words.

Ewan smiled. “Aye, ye can. Because I just won ye yer freedom from the Madam last night. She bartered ye as part of that poker game.”

Fidelia blanched and shrank into herself as she sat on the chair. “She couldn’t have. She doesn’t own me.”

“She believes she does. And the men I was playing with believed she did as they were delighted to accept ye in lieu of money. Ye would have had very little say in what ye wanted had I no’ won.” Ewan smiled triumphantly with his family members. “But I did win. Finally.”

He frowned as they continued to gape at him. He dropped the sack on the table and shuffled his feet. “What are ye doin’ home, Anna? Leticia was going to stop by the bakery on the way to school with Hortence.”

“I felt unwell this morning and decided to not open today for my general customers. I will go soon to bake for the hotel and café.” She smiled at him. “And I’m thankful I am here to welcome you, Dee.” Her smile faded as her sister glowered at her.

Cailean tugged the sack toward him and frowned when he saw it was filled with rice and rocks. “Is this a joke?”

“Nae,” Ewan said with a laugh.

Alistair smiled at his eldest brother. “We hid the real sack in the cubby Ewan made us at my house. This is to confuse those who are watchin’ him.”

Ewan met his eldest brother’s concerned gaze. “I’ll go to the bank soon, and no one will bother ye here at the house or at Alistair’s.”

Cailean shook his head, in wonder this time. “Ye won, Ewan?”

Ewan smiled, unable to hide the pride in his accomplishment. “Aye. Enough to pay ye back for all ye’ve done for me.”

Cailean waved that away. “There’s no need.” He searched Ewan’s gaze and nodded as though satisfied with what he saw.

“Ye bluidy fool,” Sorcha hissed. “All this time ye’ve been playin’ with the hopes of winnin’ enough to pay Cailean back?”

Ewan shook his head. “No, I love the game. But tonight, … this morning, finally I won.”

Fidelia began to shake in her seat. “What does this mean? I belong to you now?”

“No need to look so horrified,” Ewan joked. “Many women would be delighted to have me as a husband.” He sobered as his teasing did little to ease her panic. “I do no’ consider ye a possession, Fidelia. I wanted to win, especially after I saw what the Madam had bet. Asides, had I lost …” He shook his head as though that were too terrible to contemplate. He met Fidelia’s gaze which remained dulled by the opium. “I wanted to win that game to set ye free. At last.”

She shook her head as she swiped at her cheeks. “The townsfolk will see me as your … whore now. I’ll never be free of that.”

He looked at her and then at Annabelle. “I dinna consider ye mine, Fidelia. I … dinna think of ye in that way. I had hoped ye wanted to be free. That this time ye’d leave the Boudoir and never return.”

Annabelle sniffled as she lost her battle with her tears. “Dee?” she whispered. “Will you stay here with us? Let us help you?”

Fidelia looked at the MacKinnons in the kitchen, and her gaze narrowed. “What will you want from me?”

Everyone remained silent as they waited for Annabelle to respond. She gripped her sister’s clenched hand. “Nothing, Dee.” She paused. “Except for you to give up the laudanum.” She shook her head. “I want you free, not only of the Madam but of the power of that drug.”

Fidelia nodded once, and Annabelle let out a deep breath. She pushed herself up and smiled her thanks as the brothers rose to help Fidelia upstairs. Ewan nodded to Annabelle after he and his brothers settled her on the bed, backing out of the room as Annabelle and Sorcha helped Fidelia out of her clothes. He bumped into Leticia in the hallway.

“They’re in there, if ye want to help them.” Ewan pointed to Alistair’s old room. She nodded her thanks before slipping inside.

He walked downstairs and paused when he saw Cailean waiting for him. “Are ye angry with me, Cail?” He walked to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

“No, but I am curious. Does this mean you are done with gambling?” When Ewan remained quiet, taking a large gulp of coffee, Cailean asked, “Now that you’ve finally won?”

Ewan closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, his body relaxing as though releasing pent-up tension. “I think so,” he whispered. “I wanted to win. I kent I could.” He met Cailean’s nonjudgmental gaze. “An’ now that I have, I dinna have this need to go back to the tables.”

“Are you sure? Most who win have a thirst for more winning.”

Ewan shook his head. “No’ yet. I honestly hope no’ ever.” He met Cailean’s gaze, his brow furrowing to see the worry remaining in his brother’s eyes. “I canna make promises, Cail.”

Cailean nodded as though satisfied with his honesty. “You’re a good man, Ewan, and I couldn’t be more proud to call you brother. Thank you for what you did for Belle and her sister today.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder and left through the side door to the livery.

Ewan took another sip of coffee before setting the cup in the sink. After he had a quick wash and changed into a fresh pair of clothes, he set out for work. He fought his natural desire to head to Jessamine’s office to share the news with her, instead walking down the alley and into the home he had hoped to share with her. He had not yet decided to sell it, but he knew of a few townsfolk who would be interested in purchasing the residence.

Ben smiled at him when he entered. He was discussing the finish work around the doorjambs with one of the men. When he was done, he wandered over to the table where Ewan looked at the plans.

“You don’t really need those anymore,” Ben said. “Now it’s only a matter of weeks before it’s finished.”

Ewan nodded. “Come,” he said in a low voice, walking to a back room that he envisioned as his bedroom. Through a window covered in a sheet but which would soon have a glass pane, the rolling hills were visible. He wandered the space and was quiet a few moments.

“I hope I’ve done nothing to displease you,” Ben said.

Ewan looked at his friend in surprise. “Of course no’. Ye are a trusted friend, Ben. When I’m no’ here, I ken ye will ensure the work continues. I canna continue to lead all these jobs on my own. I find I dinna want to.” He looked at his friend and took a deep breath. “Will ye be my foreman? I ken it’s no’ as good as partner, but there will be an increase in salary, and the men will understand that ye have my full backing.”

Ben stared at him in openmouthed surprise.

“I hope I havena offended ye,” Ewan said when Ben remained silent.

Ben strode to him, holding out his hand. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your foreman. Thank you.”

Ewan shook his hand and slapped him on his back. “Ye’ll rue the day ye agreed, but I’m relieved ye did.” He laughed. “I thought for a second ye were going to belt me.”

Ben laughed. “No. I never thought you’d share any of your business with anyone, even if it was to have a foreman.”

Ewan leaned against the wall. “Do you know how many times I go from site to site, frustrated at how little has been accomplished in my absence? I may need a foreman at each site, but hopefully, for now, the two of us can work together to meet the challenge of encouraging the men to work faster.”

He motioned for Ben to follow him to the main workspace, where interior walls were going up. He whistled for his men, who turned toward him, setting aside their tools after they finished what they were doing.

“I have an announcement. I just spoke with Ben, an’ he’s going to be my foreman. This means, when I’m no’ on the job, he’s yer boss. If he asks ye to do something, consider it as though I’m askin’ ye to do somethin’.” He surveyed the small cadre of men looking at him. “Aye?”

The men nodded; a few smiled, and then they turned back to work, mumbling to themselves.

“It willna affect them much, as the work will wind down as winter approaches. But ’tis good to have them understand this now, afore next spring and summer when we’ll be busy again.” He slapped Ben on his shoulder, and they joined the men.

* * *

That afternoon Ewan slipped out of the worksite and walked the short distance to Alistair’s house. He knocked on the door, smiling as Leticia answered. When he stood in the hallway, with the door closed behind him, he motioned to the tattered rug at the end of the hall. “I need to extract the money and bring it to the bank. I dinna want ye to be in any danger.”

He flipped back the rug, lifted off the board, and pulled out the burlap sack. After peering inside to ensure the money remained, he winked at Leticia. “Can I sit at yer table a moment?” He moved to the dining room table and slowly counted the coin and paper money in the sack.

He shook his head as he met Leticia’s shocked gaze.

“I’m surprised the bag held,” she murmured as over $300 sat in front of him.

“Aye, seems my luck is holdin’.” He replaced the money in the bag and declined her offer of a cup of coffee. “I need to go to the bank.” He gave her a wink and departed.

Sunlight streamed in through the bank’s tall windows, the rays ricocheting off the highly polished countertops. He strolled up to the main desk and hit the bell for service. “Hello, Mr. Finlay. ’Tis a lovely day.”

Mr. Finlay, sporting a plum-colored waistcoat with gold buttons, glared at Ewan. “It was until you arrived. I have no loans for men who make poor business decisions and who spend their time with cardsharks.”

“Aye, ’tis a pity to waste a life such as mine.” He met Mr. Finlay’s glare. “I need access to the MacKinnon box.”

He waited while Mr. Finlay flushed, nodding when Mr. Finlay sniffed his disdain but led him to the back and down a rickety flight of stairs. As far as Ewan knew, the bank was the only building in Bear Grass Springs with a basement. The musty smell of the underground space welcomed him as a lit lantern highlighted the bricked-in vault and rows of safe-deposit boxes. Ewan suspected the majority were empty but said nothing.

When Mr. Finlay extracted his box, Ewan stared at him until the man heaved out a sigh and left. When Ewan heard the door close to the upstairs, he wandered to the stairs, glaring at Mr. Finlay who remained. “Dinna imagine I don’t ken yer tricks. If I could have privacy?” Ewan asked. He waited as Mr. Finlay heaved out an affronted breath before walking up the final step and slamming the door behind him.

Ewan moved with speed to the box, opening it with the key Cailean had slipped into his hand that morning. Ewan saw papers for the partnership agreement between Bears and the MacKinnons, and another between Cailean and Annabelle. He set the last down as that was not his business. Although it was difficult, he stuffed the money-filled sack in the box, locking it as he heard the door creak open upstairs.

“Aye,” he called out. “I’ve had plenty of time. Thank ye for yer generosity.” He raised an eyebrow as he watched Mr. Finlay reenter the room.

“I’ll never understand why your brother, who is a reasonably upstanding member of this town, trusts you with the contents of this box.” He looked at it with disappointment to find it locked shut. He picked it up, grunting at its weight. “Leave it to you, you dim-witted carpenter, to fill it with rocks.”

Ewan chuckled. “Aye, I’ve little sense.” He waited until Mr. Finlay had replaced the box and locked the entire area before following him upstairs. “Good day.”

He strode down Main Street, entering the livery to find Bears singing to one of the horses in an unknown language. Ewan waited in the shadows until Bears ceased and began to hum. “What were ye sayin’ to the horse?”

Bears looked at him, no surprise evident in his expression at Ewan’s presence. “I sang to him of his fine ancestors. That he was born to run and that he should be proud of all the work he does for his owner.”

Ewan fought a smile. “He’s a horse. It’s what he does.”

Bears looked at Ewan with a mixture of humor and pity. “He’s allowed us to tame him, and we use him to help us. We must always give him thanks.” He patted the horse’s side before moving into another stall.

Ewan shook his head, heading to the paddock when he heard Cailean’s voice outside. The paddock stood behind the livery, and they exercised horses there, worked with horses who needed more training, and used it as an overflow area when the inside stables were full. “Cail,” Ewan called out.

Cailean waved and ducked under the posts. “Are you still celebrating your win?”

He shrugged. “I just deposited the money in the bank, but I dinna ken if I kept enough out to repay what ye gave to Mr. Timmons.” He handed a pocketful of bills to Cailean.

His brother pushed it away. “No need to repay me, Ewan.”

“Aye, there is. I’ve been in yer debt long enough. I will never be able to repay ye for the money ye sent for my travels. An’ I’ve come to realize ye would no’ want me to.” He met Cailean’s gaze and saw his agreement reflected in his brother’s eyes. “However, I can and will repay ye for my gamblin’ folly.”

Cailean glared at him, his hands at his sides.

“Buy somethin’ for Annabelle. For the bairn.” He saw his brother’s eyes flash at that suggestion. He smiled when Cailean unfurled a hand and held it out, palm up. Ewan slapped the bills in his brother’s palm and nodded. “Thank ye for always lookin’ out for me.”

“I always will,” Cailean said, pulling him into a quick bear hug.

Ewan laughed, backing away. “See ye tonight, Cail.” He waved once before he left the livery to return to his worksites.