Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It was recalling such memories and having such thoughts that left her feeling lonely at times. She didn’t live a completely solitary life, with people frequently seeking her healing skills. It was the close friendship she missed and the caring that came along with it. Lately, she wondered what her life would be like if she had wed and had bairns. But she worried that time had passed, her twenty and six years being considered too old to wed and bear children. Childbirth could be deadly for women at any age, but even more so as a woman grew older, the demands of endless work to survive life in the Highlands wearing women down.
Stopping when her cottage came into view, Shade greeted the welcoming sight with a gentle smile. The dense forest canopy above provided a sanctuary and for a moment the sun broke free of the clouds and dappled sunlight filtered through the colorful autumn leaves, casting a serene, almost magical light around her cottage. Here, deep in the woods and far removed from any well-worn traveling path, she found peace.
She hurried inside eager to get a fire going. Autumn nights in the Highlands often brought with them a strong chill. It was winter’s way of saying it was eager to wake from its slumber. Her cottage was a good size. The wall containing the lone window was surrounded by rough-hewn shelves and held a variety of crocks containing salves, mixtures of plants, and baskets that held stalks of dried plants. A narrow table ran the length of the wall and contained even more of her healing items, and a sizeable mortar and pestle sat in the center under the window. She loved glancing out on the beauty of the forest that surrounded her while working. Underneath the table were stored baskets and buckets.
A table, sufficient for two people, two benches, a chair by the hearth, a generous-sized bed with a chest beside it and another chest at the bottom of the bed occupied the rest of the cottage. She smiled, the comfort of her home surrounding her like loving arms. Though, she briefly wondered how it would feel to be welcomed home in the arms of a man who loved her.
There was too much to be done to spend time on wasteful thoughts. She hung her brown wool cloak on one of the few pegs on the wall next to the door and grabbed her apron that hung there. Since early morning, she had been tending to an elderly man who claimed he had outlived his years and welcomed death. But death wanted no part of the spry man and by the time she finished with him, he was ready to take his great-grandson fishing.
With dusk not far off, she had little time to get things done. It didn’t take her long to get a fire going and to bring in more logs for the night. She had hoped to fashion an autumn wreath for the door from the branches she had collected yesterday, but that would have to wait for tomorrow. It was more important that she gathered what she needed to get supper started. Kale with wild onions would make a good stew and would warm her and fill her belly for the night along with the bread she had left from yesterday.
She hurried to her garden. It sat to one side of her house just past a line of trees in an area that provided sufficient sunlight. Her garden brought her much pleasure, whether planting or harvesting, she cherished every moment she spent there.
Clouds continued to gather and darken overhead. She would have preferred to linger in her task, but the impending rain had her hurrying to fill her basket with bunches of kale and onions. She heard what sounded like footfalls as she stood, ready to grab her basket and head inside. She rarely got people seeking her help this late in the day, especially in the autumn when night fell early, so she was a bit apprehensive. She shook her worry away, reminding herself that someone might need her help, and she turned and froze.
A man stood on the border of her garden not far from her, his horse behind him. He was tall, his dark hair brushing his broad shoulders that were drawn back. His handsome features could easily capture a woman’s heart though the slight tilt of his chin and his rigid stance warned he was a man always in command, as did his eyes focused intensely on her. His dark cloak was drawn back over one shoulder, and it was easy to see he possessed a lean, muscled body beneath his shirt and plaid. Three sheaths hung from his belt, daggers snug in all of them, and the leather straps that crisscrossed his chest no doubt supported a sheath strapped to his back that held his sword, which meant he was a warrior. If so, Shade logically concluded that he had suffered a wound that needed tending.