The Hiring Fair

by Laura Strickland

  “Annie MacCallum,” she replied. “So, man, what is your decision?”

  Tam glanced once more around the fair. Nearly everyone had gone; even the drunk must have pulled himself up from the ground and wandered off while they spoke. Clouds gathered in the west, chased inland from the sea by a cold wind. As he stood wrestling his thoughts, a single snowflake drifted down and lit on his nose.

  Where would he go tonight, if not with the madwoman? With Annie MacCallum, he hastily corrected himself. He’d spent enough cold nights along freezing roadways.

  She stood quietly awaiting his answer, the feather on her hat shivering in the wind. Her dark eyes watched him with care, holding an unreadable expression.

  Was it something in those eyes that convinced him? Tam did not know, but suddenly it felt as if he stepped beyond himself, right out of this weary, hungry body with its mangled hand.

  “Well, then, Annie MacCallum,” he told her, “let us go and see the priest.”

  Chapter Two

  She had done well, Annie thought as they walked across the market square toward the kirk, far better than she’d expected when she first climbed the steps of that platform. Despite the fact that it had taken her nearly all day to screw up her courage and make the announcement, despite the way her knees had trembled with terror when she clambered up and how her voice croaked when she forced it out, she’d accomplished her goal.

  She stole yet another look at the man who walked beside her and wondered if he noticed her knees shaking even now. Could he tell how terrified she was, or had her determined self-possession masked her uncertainty? She knew very well she rarely displayed her inner turmoil, no matter what she felt.

  But oh, aye, she’d done well. He was very nearly perfect aside from his hand, and one could not have everything. Indeed, even there fate had been kind to her. If not for the injured right hand, the fingers of which were twisted into a stiff claw, he’d surely have been hired by someone else at the outset and unavailable to accept what he clearly considered her mad proposition.

  She could see his opinion in his eyes, and fine eyes they were, too—clear gray as the sky on an autumn morning. The color of his hair also reminded her of autumn, the warm brown that oak leaves turned before they fell. At the moment, he wore a scruffy beard that obscured the lower half of his face, but she found his nose, straight and proud, pleasing. Well set up, he topped her considerable height by a good bit, the strength of his body quite apparent despite his ill-fitting, ragged clothes.

  He is not meant to please you, lass, she reminded herself sternly. Not as if this will be a marriage in truth, or you will sleep with him. Aye, for she had learned better; no man would set limb in her bed. Tam Sutherland would be a hireling in all but name.

  Still it went to show, when one fastened one’s faith upon a course and held to it despite doubt and trepidation, rewards came. For he was the perfect age: not too old and yet not a sapling. The odious Ned Randleigh might just consider him a proper mate for her.

  That was, if Ned Randleigh thought anyone a likely mate for her. But aye, she meant to present Randleigh with a fait accompli when next he came calling.

  At the edge of the market square, Annie paused. “That is my wagon there. Wait but a moment; I maun collect my lad.”

  Sutherland looked at her in surprise but said nothing. Good—he was not the sort to spit out his thoughts before he contemplated them. Better and better, for she could tolerate many things save a quarrelsome, overbearing loudmouth in either servant or husband.

  Snow had just begun to gather on the cart. Old Rake turned his head to look at Annie and bared his teeth in what looked more grimace than smile.

  Sorry, my good fellow, she told him silently. We shall be moving soon.

  Jockie, as she expected, huddled not in the cart but under it. He came scrabbling out at her approach and began gesturing and mewling at her.

  “Aye, lad, I am that sorry I took so long. We are going now to the kirk. Will you lead Rake?”

  Jockie gibbered and nodded, caught Rake’s harness by the cheek strap, and turned the old horse round.

  By now the square lay full of fluttering snow and darkness. For an instant, Annie thought her newly chosen husband had gone just like the drunk, and her stomach sank. Then a shadow shifted and she saw him waiting, solid in the gloom.

  “Come,” she told Jockie again, in an effort to discipline her sudden rush of gladness. “Meet your new master.”

  ****

  Tam Sutherland’s reaction to Jockie, so Annie supposed, would tell her much about him, as people’s responses to the lad always did. Many folks crossed themselves or made the far older sign against evil. Some threw stones. Ned Randleigh always ordered him off as if he did not want to look at him, but Jockie, bless him, never went.

  She reassured herself again; as soon as tonight she would have a barrier between herself and the vile Randleigh.

  She watched Sutherland carefully as they approached, Old Rake wheezing in the cold air. She caught Jockie by the shoulder and gently drew him up beside her. Jockie hated meeting people, and who could blame him?

  “Jockie…” She spoke in the quiet tone that usually served to calm the lad. “This is Tam Sutherland. He will be my husband and thus your master.”

  She felt Jockie’s reaction through her fingers. With a grunt, he flinched and tried to pull away, then bent his head. Tam Sutherland’s face became a study of surprise, wonder, and at last, consideration. Would he spit? Withdraw? Annie narrowed her eyes and waited.

  “Grand to meet you, Jockie,” Sutherland said in a voice as soft as her own, and Annie’s heart clenched and melted.

  Very well, then, he had passed the first trial.

  “Jockie has great difficulty speaking,” she told Sutherland carefully. “But he does manage to express his wants, do you no’, lad?”

  “Aye, and what of the horse?” Sutherland asked with what might be amusement. “Does he make his wants known also?”

  “Right now Old Rake wants to go home.” As did Annie, in truth. But not just yet. “Come along, Jockie. Father Alban will be waiting for us.”

  Jockie shrank back to Old Rake’s side. Sutherland fell in beside Annie as they began moving.

  In a low tone he asked, “This marriage you ha’ in mind, will it be legal wi’ no banns being read?”

  “Father Alban is an old friend of my uncle, and I ha’ spoken to him of this. He will accommodate me.”

  “Aye, and what will your uncle think o’ this scheme of yours?”

  “Very little, I imagine. He is dead.”

  Sutherland contemplated that without comment.

  St. Lyon’s church loomed ahead, appearing all at once out of the swirling snow. Annie turned to Jockie.

  “You lead Old Rake round back and join us inside where you can get warm, eh?”

  Jockie nodded and clattered off.

  Annie turned to Sutherland and looked into his face, only to be struck again by how handsome he looked. But that had naught to do with anything, and she could not let it sway her good sense, not when she’d come so far.

  “Before we go inside, I want to be sure I ha’ your understanding. This is no’ an ordinary marriage but something more in the manner of a hiring, which is why I came to the fair in the first place.”

  He inclined his shaggy head toward her slightly. “A hiring wi’out wages. That is against the law, you do ken.”

  She swept him with her gaze. “And are you a man to adhere to arbitrary laws? I confess, I did no’ get that impression.”

  “And,” he returned, “are you a woman who needs to hire a husband?” He echoed her. “I confess, I did no’ get that impression.” He returned her stare, slow and attentive. “You are certainly bonnie enough to snare a husband the usual way.”

  To her surprise, Annie felt a wave of heat course through her. “I do no’ want a usual kind o’ husband. I want one who will tak’ my orders and stay clear o’ my bed. Be sure you are that man before we go
inside and speak these vows.”

  One of Sutherland’s eyebrows quirked up. “I was right at the outset; you are mad.”

  “So we ha’ already determined,” Annie agreed, beginning to grow edgy again. What if he refused at this late moment? Where would she find a substitute, with the market now deserted and the snow falling? Besides, she discovered she did not want a substitute; for reasons she did not quite understand, she wanted this man and no other.

  “There is a story behind this,” he said mildly. “I confess, I would like to hear it.”

  “Perhaps you shall, but not now—there is no time.” Annie drew a breath and sought to deny the fear rising inside her, the fear that he might walk away from her after all.

  But that curious smile crossed his lips again.

  “Are you coming wi’ me?” she pressed.

  “It seems a damned clever way to secure the services of a farm worker whilst paying no wages,” he said. “But aye, for all that, I will come along wi’ you.”

  Chapter Three

  At the doorway of the church, Tam balked and caught Annie MacCallum’s arm. Since watching her climb the steps onto the rough platform he’d felt like a man in a dream—or under a magical spell. But the light spilling out through the leaded windows of the stone kirk made him blink and come at least partially to his senses.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She looked at him. He could see her more clearly now and noted feature after feature. Her face, all sharp angles, did not fit the usual definition of pretty—nose too pointy, cheekbones too stark. But Tam would defy any man not to notice her, especially given those clever, dark eyes that met his with a directness he could not help but admire.

  His pulse sped, and he let go of her as if she singed his fingers. She would not want him touching her anyway, if all she said proved true.

  “Why is it necessary for us to wed this night? Would it no’ be better to go back to this farm o’ yours, give it some time, and see how we suit?”

  “I ha’ not the time for that.”

  “’Tis highly irregular, this,” he said.

  “I told you, Father Alban and I ha’ come to an understanding. Exceptions to the rules can be made, you ken. And Father Alban is very close to the bishop. I believe he can clear our way, if we pay a fee.” Her lips curled. “When it comes to the kirk, Tam Sutherland, much can be accomplished by the proper application of a bribe.”

  “I ha’ no coin.”

  “Do no’ fash yourself. I will pay the fee.”

  “But,” he protested helplessly, “will such a marriage stand?”

  “Do you care?” she challenged. “What is this to you, save a job?”

  “’Tis more.” How could a man consider tying himself to such a woman as this, even superficially, without it meaning something?

  “Father Alban will ask you a few questions, whether you are already married and such. You are not?” Her dark gaze sharpened.

  Tam shook his head.

  “Well then, he has assured me the joining will be legal, if a bit irregular.”

  A lie of a marriage, Tam thought, executed on the strength of a bribe to the kirk. Did he truly want to be in the midst of that? Did he want to continue roaming the Highlands devoid of a place to lay his head? The Devil whispered that question in his ear. And a place was a place, right? A hiring a hiring, even if the only wage should be the privilege of existing in this woman’s company.

  And, had he not prayed to get taken on at any cost?

  “Do no’ look so worried,” Annie said. “This is not my parish or yours. When it comes to it, I am not even a Christian.”

  The door swung open and flooded them with light. Tam narrowed his eyes against the glare and saw a black-frocked priest, his head topped by a snowy cap of hair that gleamed like a halo.

  “Ah,” the priest said. “I thought I heard you, Annie MacCallum. Come in.”

  The madwoman seized Tam’s hand—his bad hand for all that—and towed him in. A scent of old incense combined with dust greeted him, but no warmth. The interior of the church felt as cold and damp as the outdoors.

  The priest shut the door and turned to look at them. Tall and rail thin, he possessed a pair of piercing blue eyes and, at the moment, an expression of extreme dismay.

  Severely he told Annie MacCallum, “I hoped you would reconsider this ill-advised intention of yours.” His gaze flicked to Tam. “But I see you have found someone.”

  “Aye, indeed. Let us in, Father, and keep your word. I ha’ sent Jockie round back, but he can stand as witness if needed.”

  The priest grimaced. “Why not? Witnesses to a marriage are required to be competent, but in this case I find it entirely appropriate.”

  “So long as the marriage will stand.” To Tam’s eye, Annie MacCallum still appeared calm. Yet her dark eyes glittered, and a feverish flush now stained her cheeks.

  Father Alban sighed. “Come along; let us take a look at the prospective bridegroom.”

  Again Tam nearly balked. He wanted to grab hold of events and slow them down so he had time to think. What was the meaning of Annie MacCallum’s words, saying she was no’ a Christian?

  Yet the priest had turned his back and led them into the church proper, down a center aisle toward the altar. St. Lyon’s was not a large church and, at the moment, stood empty of everyone but them.

  When they reached the altar, Father Alban turned to face them. Not unkindly he asked Tam, “My son, what is your name?”

  “Sutherland. Tam Sutherland.”

  “And do you understand in full what this woman, Annie MacCallum, asks of you?”

  Well, now, there was the question. Cursed if Tam did. But he could scarcely stand here before the priest and admit so.

  “Aye.”

  Father Alban looked surprised. “And you come here freely anyway, without persuasion?”

  “I do.”

  Annie MacCallum still clutched Tam’s bent fingers in her hand, and a warmth had started gathering there, fighting the chill. It crept up Tam’s arm, tingling as it moved.

  Father Alban appeared perplexed. “How old are you, son?”

  “Twenty-five last December.”

  “And you have not been and are not now wed?”

  “I have no’. I am no’.”

  “Do you mean to take these vows honestly, solemnly, for life long?”

  Did he? Startled, Tam’s gaze flew to Annie MacCallum. She watched him as a crow might its prospective dinner.

  Aye, and what would he do with his life, if he did not join with this woman? Homeless and without living family, cast upon the world with no hope of making his way, he might well look on Annie MacCallum’s offer as a Godsend.

  But to take her for wife solemnly before that same God… He looked at her again, tracing each feature, noticing for the first time the hair peeping out beneath the wide-brimmed, green hat. He’d expected it to be as black as her eyes, despite her white skin. But the waves he saw pressed against her cheek looked a deep, rich brown.

  He should call on his common sense, ask a thousand questions beginning with why she wanted this marriage so much. Instead, his tongue moved of its own accord. “Aye; I take these vows most earnestly.”

  And what did he see in Annie MacCallum’s eyes? A flash of relief?

  Father Alban grunted. “One as mad as the other,” he muttered. “Tell me, Tam Sutherland, why would you agree to such an undertaking as this rather than hire on in the district like any honest man?”

  Tam gently freed his fingers from Annie MacCallum’s grip and held them before the priest’s face.

  Father Alban exhaled gustily. “I see.” He turned his piercing gaze on Annie. “And this man will suit your needs? Solve your problem?”

  What problem? Tam wondered, even as Annie MacCallum nodded.

  “Well, then—I did promise your uncle on his deathbed I would aid and protect you in any way I might. Jockie is in the yard, you say? Let me fetch him and my housekeeper to serve witness.
”

  He rushed off; Tam and Annie MacCallum were left standing together in the flickering light of the altar candles.

  “What problem am I meant to solve?” Tam asked her. “I believe I should know before we do this thing.”

  She hesitated. “I need the status of wife, you see.”

  “I am afraid I do no’.”

  “You see, back where I live there is a factor—”

  Tam’s reaction, swift and visceral, tightened his stomach muscles and flushed his skin. Fire, pain, a pair of merciless eyes, and a face he longed with all his heart to pummel.

  He said, “There are factors everywhere.” Tossing folks out of their homes into the winter cold, even the sick, and breaking their hearts. “They are the curse of the Highlands.”

  “Aye. This one preys upon women who ha’ no’ the protection of a husband.”

  Tam wished he could feel surprised by that; he could not.

  Eyes fixed on his, Annie told him earnestly, “I do need help on my place. There is much to do, and Jockie is limited in what he can manage. I ha’ a female servant also, a wee lass, but ’tis a struggle for us. So this scheme came to mind.” She paused. “I am no’ mad, as you think, though I warrant I must seem it.”

  Wryly, Tam said, “Do you make a habit o’ taking on the disadvantaged?”

  “You ha’ no idea. Quick, Tam Sutherland, before Father Alban comes back with the witnesses, give me your assurance—”

  She seized him again by way of persuasion, caught one of his wrists in either hand. Warmth once more suffused him, far more beguiling even than her gaze.

  Ah, little did she suspect that she had come to the wrong man if she sought protection, the very last upon whom she should rely…he who had so markedly failed in the past to protect those he loved.

  The thought that he might have another chance, an opportunity to defend a woman such as this, who wore her confidence like that green cloak on her shoulders and looked strong enough to make her own way in the world, struck him like sudden desire.

  Dare he hope, after losing all but his life, he might yet mean something to someone?