“How do you want your eggs, anyway?” she asked, beginning the little give and take that would seem natural.
“Over easy,” he replied. He came over to fetch the bread from the box on the counter. In the process he bumped his hips against hers playfully. “Makes it easier to see the snot.”
A snort was Lorna’s comment to that. She moved away, hoping he wouldn’t touch her again.
“I need to trek down to the ferry today,” he said as he laid six slices of bread on a cast iron griddle then began slathering butter atop each piece. “Euan will be back from Dovertown.”
She hadn’t paid any attention to the men who had come to the Joining the evening before and could not have cared less whether her husband’s twin had been there or not.
“He should be over his anger by now,” he said, turning the bread over to butter the bottom side before placing the griddle under the broiler. “He doesn’t hold a grudge long although its been a long time since I gave him a black eye.”
She glanced at Cail. “You hit him?”
“He had no business taking you to the jail,” he said. “I let him know I didn’t appreciate it. He overstepped his boundaries.”
Lorna stared at him for a moment then looked away. It didn’t matter to her if they beat one another to the ground. She knew they were close and that Euan’s cabin was only half a mile from his twin’s which meant the man would most likely visit often. The thought of the way he had manhandled her, treated her made her throat clog with fury. She knew treating him civilly would be a true test of her mettle. What she wanted to do was gouge his eyes out with the fork she used to extract the crisp bacon from the pan.
“You can ride into the settlement with me if you want else I’ll take you by Maggie’s,” he said. “I know she’d appreciate the company. Jubal is getting worse. You probably noticed he wasn’t here last night.” He used a pot holder to take the griddle from the broiler so he could flip over the pieces of toast.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t give a damn whether Regis had been there or not and that Maggie’s husband would be dead in a few days but she kept quiet. She broke two eggs into the hot grease.
“Why can’t I just stay here?” she asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t trust her to be alone.
Apparently Cail saw no need to respond. She saw his mouth tighten as he thrust the griddle under the flame once more.
“I’ll bring back what was left of yours at your brother’s house,” he told her. “Anything you need from the store house?”
“Whatever you want in the way of foodstuffs,” she said begrudgingly. “As long as I have my books, I don’t need anything else.”
“Do you sew?” he asked then bent over to retrieve the toast. “I mean, we don’t really know that much about one another and it just occurred to me to ask.”
“No, I don’t so if you’re thinking I’ll be making your clothes, that won’t happen,” she snapped.
“That’s okay but you do know how to mend and hem, don’t you?” he asked, deep lines forming between his brows.
“I can do that and I do crochet and knit. My mother taught me embroidery and needlepoint, as well.”
He leaned a hip against the counter as she scooped his eggs from the pan to add them to the plate beside the bacon.
“Eat your food while it’s hot,” she said.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, frowning.
“I don’t have any appetite,” she said truthfully and thought he could take that however he wished.
“You need to eat, Lorna,” he said. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said in a grating tone.
“You’re my wife,” he reminded her as he took a seat at the table. “It is my job and my right to worry about you.”
She wrapped the potholder around the fry pan’s handle and poured the drippings into a can kept on the counter for that purpose. “How old is this grease?” she asked, sniffing the beige colored congealed mass.
“It’s still good. A day or two old, I think. It doesn’t stay around long because I use it up making cornbread or hominy, greens and the like,” he explained. “I’ve been cooking for myself since last spring so I’ve become fairly good at it. It’ll be nice not to have to do that from now on.” He dipped a piece of toast in the egg to break the yolk then shoveled it into his mouth then nodded. “This is very good, dearling. Cooked just the way I like it.”
Lorna made no reply to that but wiped out the fry pan with a stained towel that looked as though it was used for that purpose.
“If you want to rearrange things to your liking, I’ll help you tomorrow,” he said around a nibble of bacon. “I don’t work the ferry on the weekends and there’s nothing around the farm I need to see to. We can spend the day doing whatever you like.”
She shrugged, not considering the cabin hers so it didn’t matter what it looked like. She could not have cared less nor did she have any desire to pretty it up or change anything about it.
He cleared his throat. “Will you want to attend your brother’s services on Sunday?”
“No,” she was quick to respond.
“Then, will you come with me to mine.”
She gave him a surprised look. “You have church services?” Daniel had not made mention of it to her.
He ducked his head. “Aye, of course. We are a religious people, Lorna.”
“Huh,” she said, thinking his religious views were no doubt purely male. “Will I be able to sit beside you at the service?”
“Ah, no,” he said. “The women sit on .…”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, “so the answer is .…”
“Tell him you will,” Chrysty interrupted in her ear.
“Aye,” she said, annoyed at the demon but seeing the women in her mind’s eye where Chrysty had placed them.
“I am so pleased,” Cail said. He used one piece of toast to sop up what was left of the egg yolks on the plate then scooped up one yolk-less egg to slide it onto another slice of toast. “I will have lunch with the clan Elders afterward. The womenfolk always supply food for us then take their own food down to the lake.” He chewed for a moment. “What is your best dish? Something you would like to show off to the clan?”
Her back was to him so he did not see the irritation that flicked across her face. She could tell him anything and it wouldn’t really matter but she happened to be very good a baking pies.
“If you will gather me some berries,” she said, “strawberry, raspberry, dewberry—whatever kind you can find—I will make a cobbler or two. I saw a rhubarb patch out back.”
“I know just the place to gather the raspberries and dewberries and Maggie has a strawberry patch at her place, a cherry tree, too.”
“Then I’ll make cobblers,” she said, her eyes lifting to the canister of dried prunes sitting on the shelf above the counter. A wicked smile pulled at her lips. “I’m sure the Elders will like that.”
When he finished his breakfast, he brought his plate to her then bent his head to kiss her on the nape of her neck. She stiffened but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Get dressed, dearling,” he said. “We need to be on our way.”
She nodded, unable to speak for the place where he had pressed his lips to her flesh felt as though a nest of maggots were crawling over it. She had to resist the impulse to reach up with the dishrag to scrub at the back of her neck.
* * * *
The ride to Maggie Regis’ house took about thirty minutes. Cail had hitched up the buggy, tied his horse to the tailgate, telling Lorna he would leave the buggy with her.
“Why don’t you buy me a horse?” she asked.
Cail frowned. “Women aren’t allowed to have mounts of their own,” he said. “It’s against clan law.”
She knew why, of course. It would give the women freedom to run and that was something the men of the Hill would not allow.
“It w
as just a thought,” she mumbled and wasn’t surprised that he took her answer at face value. She had tempered the tone of voice in which she was speaking to him and keeping her eyes demurely down whenever he was not addressing her directly. That seemed to please him.
Maggie was hanging sheets on a line that stretched from a huge pine tree to the side of the cabin. She turned, waved, then put her hands to the small of her back to stretch.
“She’s having a hard time of this,” Cail said. “She worships the ground Jubal walks on.”
“That’s how they all think their women are.” Chrysty’s laughter was low and filled with scorn.
“Come to spend the day with me?” Maggie asked as they pulled up to the cabin.
“Gotta go pick up Euan,” Cail said. He tied the reins to the brake then hopped down, going around to Lorna’s side to help her down. “How’s Elder Jubal?”
“It was a bad night for him,” Maggie replied. Her gaze was locked on Lorna as Cail put his hands to his wife’s waist and swung her to the ground. “He can’t keep nothing down no more.”
“I’ll just pop in and give him my regards,” Cail said, leaving the women alone.
“You are well, Sister?” Maggie asked softly.
“As well as I can be given the circumstances,” Lorna replied. “Here, let me help you with the linens.”
“Sadie will be over later this morning. We were going to be shelling peas. She will appreciate the help,” Maggie told her. She glanced past Lorna and lowered her voice even more. “He sleeps much of the time now. I found something in the book to help ease his pain.”
“And his passing?” Lorna whispered back.
“That, too,” Maggie said with a girlish giggle.
Lorna shook out a pillowcase then draped the top of it over the line. “Have you picked your three students?”
“I have and so has Sadie. What about you?”
“Not completely. I’m considering Sam’s mother. What is her name again?”
“Mary Reid.” Maggie nodded. “A good choice. The menfolk are starting to pressure her into taking another husband and she ain’t wanting to. Aye, Mary would be a good one for you.”
“And I think Royce Gilmore’s wife.”
“Oh, you’ll like Tandy!” Maggie said. “She’s got a way about her that you can’t help but take to her right off.”
“I hear there’s to be a meal prepared for the Elders.”
Maggie grunted. “Every Sunday. They eat in the dining hall of the Meeting House and us womenfolk take our bairns down to the lake pavilion and have our meal.” She bent over to retrieve another sheet from the wicker basket at her feet. “Of course it’s a way for the lot of us to have some time to ourselves but be careful what you say around the boys. They report everything back to their papas.”
“Figured as much,” Lorna said. “Little pitchers have big ears.”
“Aye, that’s the way of it,” Maggie agreed. “But once most of the others learn the powers from the Book, we can talk amongst ourselves and the little men won’t be none the wiser.”
Maggie smiled broadly then shook her head slightly for the screen door opened and Cail came out of the cabin.
Cail went to the back of the buggy, untied Saoirse then led the stallion over to where the women were standing. There was a deep frown on his handsome face.
“He’s fading, Maggie,” he said. “He was so weak he could barely keep his eyes open.”
Maggie drew in a hitching breath. “I don’t think he’ll be with us much longer, Cailean,” she said and Lorna noticed the woman was gripped a wooden clothespin so tightly the color had bled from her knuckles.
Cail put a comforting hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “We’ll be here for you, my lady.” He patted her then turned to his wife. “I’ll be back by sundown. Got a few things to see to whilst I’m at the settlement.”
“I’ll be right here,” she said and when he made a move toward her, she bent down to take up the remaining sheet in the basket.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going then,” Cail said, disappointment showing on his face. He put a foot in the stirrup.
“Ride careful,” Maggie told him with a warm smile.
“Look after my lady,” he replied then wheeled the horse around and gave it a light tap of his heels against the beast’s flanks.
“I’ll take good care of her!” Maggie called out to him as the horse picked up speed.
The two women said nothing for a moment. Between them, they adjusted the last sheet on the line then stuck the clothespins at intervals along the white crease.
“I’ve spoken to Mary Reid and my sister-in-law Alana Shaw,” Maggie said as though their conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “Tippy Kirkpatrick, Lola Dunlop, and Ellen McKenna need to be gotten to.”
“We need twelve in all to form the core of the Coven,” Lorna said. “Since there isn’t a McGregor woman handy…”
“Well, there’s Lady Belle, but she’s too old and won’t leave that shack of hers,” Maggie said.
“Then we’ll have to use two women from the same clan to make up for her loss,” Lorna said. “What of Sam’s intended? Her name escapes me.”
“Missy Gilmore,” Maggie supplied. “Aye, ‘tis best to start bringing in the young ones along with the older.”
Lorna swept a hand over her sweaty face then looked up at the sky. “I thought sure we were going to get some rain today.”
Maggie blushed. “Well, we most likely would have but I had all these sheets I needed to do and no more clean ones—what with Jubal shitting like a race horse and all—and so I .…” She shrugged. “Maybe we can make it rain on Sunday while we’re at the pavilion. That way the menfolk will be there at the settlement and we’ll be sitting out by the lake with us women in one pavilion and the children in another.”
A look of deep respect passed over Lorna’s face. “Margaret Regis you are picking up on what needs doing, aren’t you?” she asked with a grin. “Rain on Sunday would be perfect.”
Maggie reached out to grip Lorna’s hands. “We’ve needed a woman like you to unite us, Lorna. I don’t believe a one of us is going to let the hope of freedom slip through our fingers.”
“Do you think all the women will join the Sisterhood?” Lorna asked, her eyes narrowed with worry.
“I know they will,” Maggie said. “Oh, sure, there are those who have a bit of affection for their husbands but you can’t live with a man for nigh on ten years or more and not have a teeny, tiny flicker of—well—care, if not affection, for him. Most hate their menfolk—even their older sons—something fierce.”
“My concern is the young boys,” Lorna said. She’d never had a close woman friend and was beginning to think Maggie would fill that spot. “They need to be taught what’s right. The older ones, I fear, are lost to us.”
Maggie nodded, letting go of Lorna’s hands. “There are nine of them between the ages of twelve and eighteen. It’s them what’s reached the age of reasoning we have to be careful of. They’re already set in their ways. Now, the young ones? We might be able to influence them.”
“And if we can’t?”
The older woman looked out across the forest. “I’m told they can be sent where they’ll be happy enough and never darken our doorsteps again. That’s what Alistair told me.”
“Alistair?”
“My Nightwind,” Maggie whispered. “Now, I need to go in and check on Jubal. Just take a seat on the porch and I’ll bring us out some iced tea.”
“And the pan of peas,” Lorna said. “I might as well get started on them.”
As Lorna waited on the porch for Maggie to return, she knew Chrysty was hovering nearby. For some reason he had chosen not to show himself but his spirit was there—touching her from time to time.
“Is there such a place?” she asked. “For the boys?”
“She will ask the Triune Goddess to take them,” Chrysty replied. “Morrigunia will make use of them.”
“As Reapers?”
“Most likely.”
“But they won’t be hurt.”
“No, they won’t be hurt.”
The neigh of a horse brought Lorna’s head around and she turned toward the lane where a buggy appeared. An unsmiling young man sat beside Sadie and when he pulled the horse to a stop in front of the cabin, Lorna recognized him as Royce Gilmore’s son, Thad. His blue eyes bored into her like a hot drill. He didn’t greet her nor did he offer to help Sadie down from the buggy.
“Do you need help, Sadie?” Lorna asked, giving the young man a pointed look.
“I can make do,” Sadie said. She scampered down, not bothering to thank Thad who was already snapping the reins upon the mare’s rump.
“Boorish little bastard,” Lorna said under her breath. He’d been polite enough when she’d first met him but now it seemed he had developed a dislike of her.
“Don’t pay no mind to Thad,” Sadie said. “He’s just out of sorts ‘cause his old man’s laid up sick with the quicksteps and he’s got to do all the smithing.”
“Something Royce ate?” Lorna inquired as Sadie joined her on the porch.
“Or something that was given to him?” Maggie asked as she came out of the cabin.
Sadie grinned without answering. She motioned for one of the enamel pans in Maggie’s hand then scooped butterbeans from a hopper beside her chair. “How’s Jubal today?”
“A bit worse than yesterday,” Maggie replied.
“But not as bad as he’ll be tomorrow,” Sadie whispered and all three women laughed.
Chapter Nine
Lightning forked across the night sky on Saturday. There was ominous rumbling across the mountain but not a drop of rain had fallen by the time Lorna blew out the lamp in the sitting area and went in to the bedroom where Cail was sitting on the bed, pulling off his boots.
“It’s gotta rain sometime,” her husband commented. He looked toward the iron-barred windows where the curtains lay limp—not a speck of breeze touching them. “Crops are suffering as much as we are.”
Lorna wasn’t the least bit hot. She knew the room was stifling for she had made it that way but her body was cool without a single drop of perspiration on her dry flesh. Cail—on the other hand—was sweating profusely. She smiled as she continued on into the bathroom to change into her nightgown.
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