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Chapter One
    "Who do ye think he is?" whispered the lass.
    Her older brother shook his head. "I do nae ken but he looks ta be injured. We should fetch Maither. She will heal him." Glancing at the grey sky above, he knew he needed to take wee Mary home before it released it's fury. He had no wish to abandon the stranger but his sister was only six-years-old. He had to see to her first. With his decision made, he quickly put together a fire to warm the man and ward off predators. He took Mary's hand in his to hurry her home. She pulled back in alarm.
    "What are ye doing, Michael? We cannot leave the poor man all alone!"
    Michael turned to her in frustration. He did not need her childish reasoning right now. They must hurry. "We are nae deserting him, Mary, but I must get ye home and bring back help. We are nae strong enough ta move him by ourselves. Now come along quickly so we may find some aide."
    The snow began drifting down a few moments before they reached their hut. Michael practically drug his sister to the door as she began catching snowflakes in her hand, delaying him further.
    "Come along, Mary. We must aide the man we left behind." With a guilty look for forgetting about him, she ran the rest of the way home , bursting through the door.
    "Maither, Maither," she cried as she ran inside . "We found a man sleeping in the snow!"
    Meg put a hand to her aching back as she straightened. She was bone weary from her daily chores and now she had this exuberant child bouncing in spouting nonsense to her. She raised a dubious blonde brow at her daughter then spotted Michael entering their cramped quarters.
    "What silliness have ye concocted this day, my sweet?"
    "She speaks true, Maither. There is an injured man lying near the burn a half league from here. We came ta get your help."
    Meg gave her son a hard stare. T hese past two years had been a struggle for them. If only their faither had not been killed on that raid into MacDonald land. Now they expected her to take in a stranger and feed him as well. How could she? But , then again, how could she not? It was the Christian thing to do. She sighed. It would be getting dark soon.
    "Hitch Maisy ta the cart, Michael. And be quick about it." Gathering blankets and a few supplies she might need , Meghan met him outside the door. "There is stew in the hearth and bread in the cupboard. See ta your sister until I return."
    "But Maither, he is a large man. Ye will need my strength ta help ye."
    "Nay, Michael. I need ye here looking after Mary. God willing, I will manage. He's at the burn we picnic at?"
    "Aye. I built him a fire but it will nae last long. Please hurry!"
    "Nae worries, son. I will return afore ye ken it." She hurried the cart off at a brisk trot as she studied the darkening sky. The snow still fell lightly but that would not last much longer. She had to return before it worsened.
    Michael had marked the path well and she was soon standing over the injured man.   He was certainly right about the size of him. How am I ta get him in the cart? Frustrated, she knelt in the snow and checked for injuries. All that she found was a cut and a lump on his right temple. He groaned.
    "Sir knight. Can ye he ar me? I have come ta give ye aide but ye must help me. I can nae lift ye into my cart, ye must help." His eyes fluttered open a crack. Meg smiled as she helped him struggle to his feet and into the cart. Tucking the blankets securely about his shivering body, she headed for home. Later that eve as she warmed herself near the hearth, she studied the man they had rescued. He had not awakened but the once. Michael had helped her get him into the crofter’s hut. Not an easy task for a nine-year- old boy and a f ive foot three widow.
    She could see by his clothing that he was a man of some import. He remained quite attractive for someone pushing sixty, as well. Meg shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was not searching for a man. At her age of twenty-five, her child-bearing years