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Innes joked.
    Bram looked back to the fiery mare and smirked.
    “I think ye have worked enough and are deserving of a fine meal,” Innes exclaimed.
    “Thank ye. I will join ye and yer gracious wife in a moment. I have still not yet finished wit the horses.”
    “Verra well,” Innes said and walked back toward the house.
    As Bram approached the black steed he had stolen, he was taken aback by what he discovered. Alongside the saddle bags were a broadsword and a pouch full of coin. Bram guessed that the men they had stolen the horse from were either wealthy travelers or a band of raiders who’d just filled their coffers. Either way, luck had been with him this day and the stars could not have aligned more perfectly. The cloak of ensuing darkness concealed the bags and Bram did not think to look about him as they were in dire need to escape quickly.
    Strapping the small pouch to his belt, he headed towards the croft. His goal was to gather Lara and travel north to Dumfries. There, he could gather supplies for their journey to Lara’s home and seek safe passage through the lowlands.  
     

     
    Lara quietly began slicing a loaf of bread while she listened to Rowena and Innes talking at the table. Mundane kitchen tasks were not something Lara was used to doing. At Stearns Castle, Lara was taught to weave and sew but nothing more. She never learned to read or write as it was against the church’s teachings and forbidden by her father. It was her brother, John, who had taught her basic things such as how to use a dirk and wield a sword, even though Lara’s thin arms could barely hold the weight of a sword over her head. But even her brother had been amazed by her way with a dagger.
    John had been her only friend until he reached the age of ten and four and their father forced him to begin pursing his studies and training. She believed that his responsibilities to the clan became a heavy burden on him though he never shared his feelings towards it.
    Lara’s ears perked up when Innes mentioned Bram. She knew not why her heart quickened at the sound of his name or why she felt anxious to see him. But her curiosity got the better of her, causing her to lean towards them to get a better listen.         
    “The lad be doing a fine job this morning but something tells me that he is no’ a farmhand,” Innes said to his wife.
    “Why do ye say that?” Rowena asked.
    “Well, have ye seen the size of him? Built like a warhorse that one is,” he replied.
    “He said his name was MacKinnon. Have ye heard of them before?”
    “Aye. I have heard of the MacKinnons from the north. But the lad is far from home if he be a MacKinnon. Reckless bunch, ‘em Highlanders. They fight the English at every turn. And they dinna pay taxes like we have to. They fight fer their freedom while we cower behind it.”
    Innes’s voice trailed off as he turned his head and looked out the window.
    “Oh, Innes! We abide by the English rule and for that they spare us our lives and our land. That does no’ mean that we have less pride than the Highlanders do, nor does it mean we are cowards. Ye are a good man and I will no’ be hearing ye say any different,” Rowena said in a frustrated tone. It seemed they’d had this conversation many times over.
    Innes smiled back at Rowena in a loving gaze and placed his slightly wrinkled hand on her cheek. Lara could see the love the two of them shared. It was the kind of love she had hoped for in her own marriage, but instead she had married the Devil.
    Lara heard the sound of gravel scuffling under heavy footsteps coming from outside the window and she headed towards the door. After a few taps on the door, Rowena stood and opened it. Filling the doorway stood a tall and roguish looking man. He wore a dull tan colored tunic slightly damp with sweat around the neckline. A faded red and green kilt hung over one shoulder and wrapped around his waist, held up by a brown leather belt. Lara could not draw her