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Chapter 1

Afew weeks before…

When Ava opened her eyes she could see that dawn was not far away, since the first pale light was coloring the western sky a pale grey. Shortly the grey would give way to orange, then yellow, then, hopefully, blue, although in Scotland blue was usually a distant dream, even in midsummer. Now, in autumn, it was almost unheard of.

She cast off her warm woolen blanket with great reluctance and stood up, then stretched and yawned. She was fortunate to have had a good night's sleep, since today promised to be another hard, backbreaking day.

Ava looked around in the dim half-light to make sure that her sisters and her father were all still asleep, then tiptoed with great care over to the door, which she opened as quietly as she could. Apart from the first faint chirping of the birds, the world was noiseless and still, and she drew in deep lungfuls of the cool still morning air.

She was glad of the peace, stillness and solitude before the noise and activity of the day began. Sleep had rested her body, but it was these few moments of time to herself that refreshed her mind.

Presently, she took a deep breath and walked down to the burn that ran outside the little cottage where she lived, then gave herself a quick but thorough wash and went inside to dress. Now the work of the day would begin in earnest.

Ava let the goat and pig out of the barn, then opened the hen coop and scattered oatmeal on the ground, where the chickens began to cluck and scratch at once. She opened the gate and let the big sow into the small patch of trees that bordered their croft. There, she would root out bulbs, acorns, insects and even mice. Pigs were easy to keep, since they ate almost everything, even household leftovers.

She milked the goat then let her out to crop the grass around the farm, before filling a bucket with water and going back into the house. Her sisters and father were not yet awake, but she had expected that.

Ava was always first out of bed, but she had never resented that. In the absence of a son, she, as the eldest of three daughters, had to shoulder much of the responsibility of running the household. Her mother had died giving birth to her youngest sister, Rona, and her father was dying slowly and painfully, being eaten alive by the merciless onset of consumption.

In the last few years, their lives had been buffeted by one catastrophe after another, and a lesser mortal than Ava would have buckled under the strain, but she was made of sterner stuff. She had resolved that she would not be beaten down by their circumstances, and she was doing everything she could to keep that promise.

Presently, she went into the cottage again and heard the sound she dreaded most - her father's awful, hacking cough. It had always sounded to her like the noise of an ax chopping wood, and she had no doubt that it felt just as bad. Ava always expected every cough to be his last, and although she dreaded his death, she wanted it to happen sooner rather than later, so that his suffering would end.

Tiptoeing over to her father's bed, she bent down over him and gently put a hand under his shoulders to lift his back off the mattress a little. The coughing had been so severe that tears were streaming down his face, and Ava wiped them away with her thumbs. When she put a handkerchief to his mouth it came away stained with blood. Eventually, the paroxysm eased, then stopped, and Ava gave him a sip of water from the cup that always stood beside his bed. He sipped greedily for a moment, then relaxed.

"Better now, Da?" she asked softly, trying to summon up a smile.

"Aye, hen," he replied. "But I will be better when I am dead, then I can go tae heaven an' be wi' your mammy."

"You should no' say things like that, Da," Ava told him as she kissed his forehead. They both knew he was right, but she could hardly voice such thoughts to him.

"They kill horses when they break their legs," Colin Struthers wheezed. "It is an act o' mercy, Ava. Why can they no' gie the same mercy tae people?" He had said the same thing many times before, and it was a plea for her to act on the wish, but she knew she could never do so.

Ava sighed and put her arms around him. He was as thin as a skeleton, and his eyes were sunken into his head. There were hollows under his cheekbones and his hands looked like claws, with every blue vein showing clearly under his transparent skin.

"I don't know, Da," she said sadly, kissing him on the forehead. "It doesnae seem fair."

"You know, when your mammy was carryin' Rona I felt sure she was goin' tae be a boy," Colin wheezed. He swallowed and took another breath before going on. "I thought he would grow up big an' strong so that he could help you lassies wi' the heavy work around the farm, but my darlin' Maisie died, an' the baby was a girl. No' that I mind - my wee Rona is very precious tae my heart - but boys are stronger. Now the burden o' the work an' worry has landed on you, Ava, an' I am very, very sorry."

"Da, Janet, Rona an' I are managin' just fine." Ava's voice was soothing as she tucked Colin's blanket under his chin and plumped up the pillow under his head. "A brother would have been nice, but it was no' tae be, so calm yourself. We are just as well without one."

She looked at the bed he was lying on, distressed as always by the state of it. They had no proper beds, only straw-filled pallets on the floor which were rolled up and stacked away at night, but that was all everyone else of their class had. Feather beds and silk sheets were only for the wealthy, who lived in mansions and employed servants. The Struthers family could only dream of such things, but they were rich in love.

The middle sister of the three, Janet, was a hefty, muscular girl, who carried out many of the tasks that needed physical strength, such as digging, and occasionally even pulling their hand plow, since they had no horse or ox. As well as her muscular frame, she had a muscular nature, but she was particularly badly affected by the state of her father's health. Ava often found her weeping when she thought no-one was looking.

Rona, her youngest sister, was hoping to eventually get a position in Castle Kilcarron, home of the local Laird, Ross Lewis, starting as a kitchen maid. That was as high a position as a girl of her social status could aspire to at the age of fifteen.

"How are ye, Da?" Janet appeared by Ava's shoulder, looking tousled and sleepy. She gazed tenderly at Colin, then knelt down beside him and brushed his sparse hair away from his forehead. "Did ye sleep well?"

"Aye, Janet," he answered, smiling weakly. In truth, he had slept about as well as he had every other night, which was very badly indeed.

Ava took the opportunity to go and start breakfast, which usually consisted of thick oats porridge and a cup of goat's milk. It never varied, since they grew their own oats, except on Sunday when they added eggs and a few slices of black pudding if they had any.

When they had finished eating, Rona cleared the plates and cups away while Janet helped her father to wash and dress himself.

This was the time when Ava would usually go out to weed the kitchen garden and plant more seeds, but today, there was a very pleasant distraction. It came in the shape of Cameron Dalziel, the most handsome and sought-after young man for miles around.

Cameron had the kind of looks she had only ever heard about in stories of the Norsemen who had raided Scotland a few centuries earlier. His hair, which he wore shoulder-length and often tied back with a leather thong, was as fair as a field of ripe wheat, and his eyes were a vivid bluish-green.

As well as all that, he had the kind of body that women craved and men envied, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and the kind of powerful thighs that only came from hours of manual labor. He was riding his working horse Jimmy, a gentle grey giant who pulled a plow as well as he carried a rider.

When Cameron dismounted it was easy to see why the men of the village respected him so much, since he stood taller than most of them by at least six inches. No one had ever dared to pick a fight with him, since the big strapping man was a force to be reckoned with, at least against other men! However, he was not aggressive by nature, and Ava could have wrapped him around her little finger without much effort at all.

Added to all his other attributes, he was fiercely intelligent, and had been taught by the parish school to read, write and count, along with all the other boys in the village. Unlike the sons of the nobility, his education would go no further, but he was better off than the girls, who received no education at all.

It was assumed that all they would ever do was give birth and run a household, so they only learned the basic skills needed to do household tasks, which were taught by their mothers. Ava thought that this was grossly unfair, since she had always wanted to learn to read and write, and it was a source of great frustration to her.

Cameron smiled widely as he walked over to Ava, showing two deep dimples in his cheeks as well as even white teeth, and as usual, her whole body tingled. As well as that, she felt a strange, warm moisture between her legs and a sweet, pulsing ache. She had no idea what these feelings meant, but she only experienced them when she saw Cameron. If only she had someone to ask, she thought.

Now, she went forward to meet him, and he reached out his hands to grasp hers. "How are you?" he asked, in the deep, gravelly and thrilling voice that always sounded like a caress. When he spoke to her, she felt like the only woman in the world.

"I am well, Cam." She smiled, but he must have seen something in her face, because he frowned.

"No, you are not," he answered, his bright eyes searching her face. "Somethin' is worryin' you, Ava. Tell me what it is."

"Just the usual, Cam." Her voice was trembling on the edge of tears. "Da is getting worse. I feel so - I feel so helpless. He coughs up blood every time now an' I know that one o' these days I won't be able to stand it anymore. Oh, Cam, I just want him to die. Does that make me a very wicked person?"

"No!" Cam pulled Ava towards him and held her close in his strong arms. The sight of tears shining in her eyes made him want to soothe her and tell her everything would be fine, that her father would recover, but they both knew it would be a lie. Instead, he said, "it is no' a sin to wish for someone who is dear to ye to be out of their pain, Ava, but a' we can do is comfort them as much as we can till it is a' over."

"It is no' fair, Cam." She was weeping openly now. "They put animals out o' their pain. Why can they no' do it wi' people?"

Cameron shook his head and sighed. His heart was breaking for her; he was a big, powerful man who had been rendered helpless by the circumstances in which he found himself. He would walk through fire for Ava; she was the love of his life, although he had always lacked the courage to tell her so. Now, as he felt her soft body against him, he would have done anything to take her pain away, even bear it for her if he could.

"Life is no' fair, Ava," he said gently, sighing. Then he became brisk as he put her away a little and smiled down into her eyes. Hoping to distract her a little, he asked, "do ye have a cup o' ale for a thirsty man?"

Ava found that smiling was much easier as long as she was smiling at Cameron. "I will see what I can find," she promised as she left to go back into the cottage.

Cameron's gaze followed her as she made her way inside. Her hips swayed as she walked in an unconsciously sensual way, and his shaft responded by stiffening in response. How he loved her! How he wanted her!

‘I cannot go on feeling this way,' he thought grimly. ‘I must tell her.'

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