Treasured by Candace Camp

“Is Coll with you, then?”
    “Yes, he said he needed to chop wood for you. Though I think he came more because he thought I should not row over alone.”
    “No doubt. He is quite certain that neither of us could manage without his help.”
    “I probably could not. He helps me with a great deal more than just providing the kitchen with game and keeping out the poachers. Everyone knows he will treat them fairly, and now and then he will turn a blind eye when he finds a snare, but never with any sort of favoritism. I fear that he takes more time than he should from his cabinetry in order to help me.”
    “Coll is a good man, but he will do as he likes. No need to worry about that. Come into the kitchen while I make tea. Coll will expect to be fed, I imagine.”
    “He did mention tea.” Isobel followed her. Some, Isobel knew, including Cousin Robert, disapproved of her friendship with Meg Munro. In their estimation, the mistress of Baillannan did not exchange confidences with the local midwife and healer. But she and Meg had grown up together,and when they were children, they had shared every thought, every feeling. They did not see each other often anymore, for Meg had stepped into her mother’s shoes when Janet succumbed to pneumonia and Isobel had gradually assumed the running of the estate over the years. Still, Meg knew her best, and she turned to Meg when she needed help or advice or just a friendly ear. “But I do worry about him.”
    “Coll?” Meg cast a surprised look over her shoulder. “Whatever for?”
    “I cannot help but think that he may be connected to the men who are fighting the Clearances.”
    “Oh.” Meg turned away and busied herself with the teakettle.
    “I understand why they do it, and I cannot say I disagree with their putting Mardoun’s steward to a bit of trouble.”
    “Donald MacRae is a villain,” Meg said darkly. “Did you know he set fire to the Grants’ house because they couldna move out when he said? He did not even give them a day to get their belongings together.”
    “I know. I dislike the man as well, and I hate what the earl is doing. And if a shipment of the earl’s money or supplies disappears, well, I only hope it slows down the Clearances. But Mardoun is a powerful man, and his steward is as well because he has the earl’s authority. Sooner or later the men harassing MacRae are bound to get caught, and it will go badly with them. They will be jailed. Transported. Maybe even worse—I fear Mardoun’s men would shoot anyone they caught.”
    Meg turned back to her, her eyes dark with worry. “You know Coll will follow his heart. He won’t hold back for fear of what might happen.”
    “Then you are concerned, too.”
    “Aye.” Meg lightened her tone. “Or I would be if I thought Coll was involved with that band of reivers, which he is not.”
    “Well, if, hypothetically speaking, Coll was with them, would you speak with him?”
    “Hypothetically or any other way, you know he would not listen to my worries. Or yours, either.”
    “But, Meg, it could affect you as well. What if they thought you were also involved? Tell me you are not.”
    “No. I’m not.” Meg looked at her so straightforwardly that Isobel relaxed. “But I canna ask Coll to go against his beliefs.”
    “You are as stubborn as he is.” Isobel grimaced.
    “Nae.” Meg laughed as she poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. “No one’s that stubborn.”
    “I suppose not.”
    “But you must not worry about me,” Meg went on seriously. “I’ve nothing to do with it and know nothing about it, and that is the truth. This cottage is mine, granted long ago to a Munro healer by the Baillannan himself. They won’t toss me out. And MacRae is a pest, but I don’t worry about him any more than any other weasel running about the woods.”
    “ ‘MacRae is a pest’?” Isobel repeated, her brow drawing into a frown. “Are you saying that Mardoun’s steward has been bothering