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finger back at the woman. “No! No!” she said, still clutching the feathers in a tight fist. “My klicken. Berry not bad. You baad!”
    “Derry, that isn’t nice.” Caitlin bent and lifted the child in her arms. “She wouldn’t hurt your duck,” Caitlin explained to the woman. “Really. She loves chickens. She thinks it’s a—”
    “Duck. Mary’s duck.”
    Derry shook her finger at her again. “Mine.”
    “It isn’t yours,” Caitlin scolded the child. “And it was bad to pull the duck’s tail.” She glanced back at the woman and forced an embarrassed smile. “I’m Mrs. McKenna. You must be Mary Red Jacket.”
    “Hmmpt.” Mary looked at the duck. The creature had taken shelter behind a woodpile and hissed as it preened its ruffled feathers. Apparently satisfied that the bird had taken no serious hurt, the Indian woman scowled at Derry. “Fleurblanche, she lay egg. No happy, no egg.You wantee eat, no be ba-ad girl, pull Fleurblanche’s tail.”
    “Say you’re sorry,” Caitlin coaxed.
    “Ba-ad klicken,” Derry pronounced.
    Shane appeared at Caitlin’s side. “You need to watch the baby close,” he warned. “She’ll come to no harm chasing a duck in the backyard, but I’ve got an evil-tempered bull in the far pound.” He paused and nodded to the dark-skinned woman. “I see you’ve met Mary.”
    “Yes,” Caitlin said.
    “Mary, this is my wife, Caity,” Shane continued. “You can show her the house. Put her in the front corner bedroom.”
    “Why you not want Missy-Wife in your room, McKenna?”
    Shane flushed under his dark tan. “Caity has had a long trip. She needs time to …” He looked at Caitlin helplessly.
    “Yes,” she agreed. “I’m tired from the journey. It would be a good thing if I could share a room with Derry. Just … just until we’re settled in.” A weight slid from her shoulders. She had hoped he wouldn’t expect them to resume marital relations immediately. “A temporary arrangement,” she stammered.
    Shane’s expression of gratitude heartened her, and she smiled at him.
    “Mary will look after you,” he said. “Gabe tells me that I’ve got a mare in trouble in the west pasture. It’s her first colt, and she’s been in labor all day. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Mary will find you something to eat.”
    “You won’t be sharing the evening meal with us?” Caitlin asked.
    “This could take half the night. She’s a good mare. I’d hate to lose her or her colt.”
    “Of course, you must see to your horse,” she agreed. “I’ll see that Justice has his supper and—”
    “The boy comes with me.”
    “But he must be hungry, Shane. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt for Justice to—”
    “Stock comes first on Kilronan. If you’re going to be a stockman’s wife, you’d best know that.”
    “Yes.” Caitlin nodded, trying not to lose her temper. “Naturally, you must take care of your animals, but I hardly think your livelihood will rise or fall on whether or not a child has his supper before he—”
    “Boy eat, then help with horse,” Mary declared. She stuck her pipe back in her mouth and trudged toward the house.
    Shane shrugged. “He’d best eat fast, then.”
    “You told me that you wanted me to care for Justice as though I were his mother,” Caitlin reminded him.
    Scowling, Shane turned his back and strode around the corner of the house.
    “Berry hun-gry,” Derry said.
    “All right,” Caitlin soothed. “Aunty Cait will find you some supper.”
    Mary left the back door ajar, and Caitlin entered a large kitchen with log beams and a massive stone fireplace. A long wooden trestle table, two benches, and a rocking chair were the only furnishings. The floor was bare planks; the area in front of the hearth, stone. Two windows were tightly shuttered.
    Gloomy, Caitlin thought, looking around. Gloomy as a bat’s cave and none too clean. She smelled something cooking and glanced at the kettle hanging over the coals. Her stomach