"Our plaid," her husband corrected. "Auggie's one of us," he added. "Johanna, Alex isn't here. He was taken back to his mother's brother's family early this morning."

"How long will he be away?"

"Until the wall is finished. When the holding is secure, Alex will come home."

"And how long will that be?" she asked. "A son needs his father, Gabriel."

"I'm aware of my duties, wife. You needn't instruct me."

"But I may give my opinion," she countered.

He shrugged.

"Have you begun work on your wall?" she asked.

"It's half done."

"Then how long before…"

"A few more months," he answered. "I don't want you walking in the hills without a proper escort," he added with a frown. "It's too dangerous."

"Is it too dangerous for all the women or just for me?"

He kept silent. She had her answer then. She held her exasperation. "Explain these dangers to me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I haven't the time. Simply obey my commands and we'll get along quite well."

"Of course we'll get along if I obey your every command," she muttered. "Honestly, Gabriel, I don't believe…"

"The horses are sound."

His interruption turned her concentration. "What did you say?"

"The six horses you gave me are sound."

She let out a sigh. "We're through discussing obedience, aren't we?"

"Aye, we are."

She laughed.

He grinned. "You should do that more often."

"Do what?"

"Laugh."

They'd reached the edge of the courtyard. Gabriel's manner underwent a radical change. His expression hardened. She thought the serious look was for the benefit of his audience. Every soldier was watching.

"Gabriel?"

"Yes?" He sounded impatient.

"May I offer an opinion now?"

"What is it?"

"It's daft to use the courtyard for your training session as well as dangerous."

He shook his head at her. "It wasn't dangerous until this morning. I want you to promise me something."

"Yes?"

"Don't ever threaten to leave me."

The intensity in his demand surprised her. "I promise," she answered.

Gabriel nodded, then started to walk away. "I won't ever let you go. You do understand that, don't you?"

He didn't expect an answer. Johanna stood there for several minutes watching as her husband rejoined the training session. Gabriel was proving to be a complex man. Nicholas had told her the laird would marry her to secure the land. Yet Gabriel acted as though perhaps she were important to him, too.

She found herself hoping her guess was true. They would get along much better if he liked her.

She noticed Gabriel talking to Calum. The soldier glanced her way, nodded, and then started walking toward her. She didn't wait to find out what order her husband had given his first-in-command. She turned around and ran down the hill to the meadow. The MacBain soldier named Auggie intrigued her. She wanted to find out what game it was that required digging holes in the ground.

The elderly man had a stock of white hair. He stood up when she called out to him. Deep lines around his mouth and eyes made her guess him to be at least fifty years old, perhaps even older. He had beautiful white teeth, handsome brown eyes, and a warm, inviting smile.

Until she spoke to him. Johanna made a quick curtsy, then introduced herself in Gaelic.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as though in acute pain. "You're slaughtering our beautiful language, girl," he announced.

He spoke so fast, his words tripped together, and his brogue was as thick as her mama's stew. Johanna didn't understand a word he'd said. Auggie was forced to repeat his insult three times before she gained the meaning.

"Please tell me, sir, which words I'm mispronouncing."

"You're doing a fair job ruining all of them."

"I would like to learn this language," she persisted, ignoring his comical expression of horror over her accent.

"It would take too much discipline for an Englishwoman to become fluent," he said. "You would have to concentrate. I don't believe you English have that ability."

Johanna couldn't understand much of what he said. Auggie dramatically slapped his forehead. "By all that's holy, you're taking the fun out of my insults, girl. You aren't understanding a word I'm saying."

He cleared his throat and spoke again, though this time in French. His command of the language was impressive, and his accent, impeccable. Johanna was impressed. Auggie was an educated man.

"I can see I've surprised you. Did you judge me simpleminded?"

She started to shake her head, then stopped herself. "You were crawling about on your knees, digging holes. I did jump to the conclusion you were a bit…"

"Crazed?"

She nodded. "I apologize, sir. When did you learn to speak…"

He interrupted her. " 'Twas years and years ago," he explained. "Now what was it you wanted, interrupting me in the middle of my game?"

"I was wondering what your game was," she said. "Why do you dig holes?"

"Because no one will dig them for me."

He snorted with laughter after giving her his jest.

"But your reason?" she persisted.

"The game I play requires holes to catch my stones if my aim is true. I use my staff as my club and round pebbles I strike forward. Would you like to have a try, lass? The game's in my blood. Perhaps you'll catch the fever, too."

Auggie took her arm and pulled her along to where he'd left his staff. He showed her how he wanted her to hold onto the wooden pole, and when she'd braced her shoulders and her legs just the way he believed she should, he stepped back to give her further instruction.

"Give it a good whack now. Aim for the hole straight ahead."

She felt ridiculous. Auggie really was a little daft. But he was also a gentle man, and her interest in what he was doing seemed to please him. She wasn't about to hurt his feelings.

She hit the round stone. It rolled to the edge of the hole, teetered, and then dropped in.

She immediately wanted to try again. Auggie beamed with pleasure. "You've caught the fever," he announced with a nod.

"What is this game called?" she asked as she knelt to retrieve her pebble. She retraced her steps to her original position, tried to remember the correct stance, and then waited for Auggie to answer.

"The game doesn't have a name, but it dates back to olden days. Once you've mastered my short holes, lass, I'll take you along to the ridge with me, and you can try for distance. You'll have to do your part, though, and find your own stones. The rounder the better, of course."

Johanna missed on her second try. Auggie told her she wasn't paying attention. She had to try again, of course. She was so intent on pleasing him and hitting the hole, she didn't even realize they were now speaking Gaelic.

She spent a large part of the afternoon with Auggie. Calum had obviously been given the duty of watching out for her. He appeared at the top of the hill every now and then to make certain she was still there. And staying out of mischief, she supposed. After a few hours Auggie called a halt to the game and motioned her over to the opposite side of the meadow where he'd left his supplies. He took hold of her arm and let out a grunt when he lowered himself to the ground. Then he motioned her to sit beside him. He handed her a leather pouch.

"You're about to have a treat, lass," he announced. "It's uisgebreatha."

"Breath of life," she translated.

"Nay, water of life, girl. I've got my own brewing kettle, fashioned it myself after the one I studied at the MacKay holding. Our laird let me bring it along when we came to the Maclaurins. We're all castouts, you know, every one of us. I was a Maclead before I pledged myself to the MacBain."

Johanna was intrigued. "Cast out? I don't understand what you mean, sir."