Beloved Secrets, Book 3 by Marti Talbott

Author:Marti Talbott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Highlander, 20th Century, Young Adult, saga, medieval
Publisher: MT Creations
Published: 2015-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

AFTER SHAW FINISHED counting the baskets of food in the cellars the next morning, he walked to the castle. He was not looking forward to his first real encounter with Hendry since Hendry appointed himself laird, but if he was to report the counts, he had to enter them in the log just as his brother did.

He was not yet healed and hoped his vulnerability was not too obvious. When he opened the door to the Great Hall, Hendry had his head on the table and was sound asleep. It was the perfect opportunity to have a good look around since Shaw had only been in that room a few times before. It was a long, narrow room with a hearth at one end that might have taken the chill out of the air – if it was lit, and if there was wood beside it to burn. The long table lacked a good polish, but the woodwork was as magnificent as he remembered.

Shaw ignored the weapons on the walls for he knew Jamie’s would not be there and he needed no reminders. Instead, he looked around for the paper log in which to write the numbers. At last, he spotted it on a small table and went to pick it up. Not caring if he woke Hendry or not, he took the ledger, the quill pen, and the bottle of ink with him to the opposite end of the table and sat down. He penned the number of livestock first, then the food, the amount of tanned leather, and the baskets of wool that had been washed and spun. During a normal winter, the women made clothing, but this year he suspected they would not have much time. Aside from meals to prepare and bread to bake, there would be snow to melt down for water, and if not, carried from the river. Ice needed to be broken so the livestock could drink, and stored hay fetched each day to feed them. Sheepdog puppies to sell come spring needed to be nurtured inside, and eggs had to be gathered, providing the hens did not freeze to death. All that and more without many men to help would leave little time indeed for making cloth and sewing clothing.

Shaw wrote the number of men, women, and children in the log, and then wrote the names of the dead. He tried twice, but somehow he could not write his brother’s name, so he did not.

Hendry never moved a muscle. For a moment, Shaw hoped the man had drunk himself to death. He might have, too, for the sun was out and Hendry was normally in the tower watching by this time of day. Unfortunately, Shaw could see Hendry breathe. He put everything back where he found it and left the room. During past long winters when fuel for fires was getting low, some of the families moved into the castle. Not this year, not with Hendry inside.

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