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Brodie. If love is not some form of magik, then I dunno what is.”
    She stood then and shivered, wrapping her tartan more securely about her shoulders. “You should come in soon,” she suggested. And then added. “I’ll make sure Alison isna aboot the kitchen so ye can grab yersel’ a snack—and dinna worry for my feelings one bit.”
    She left him with a smile and another wink.
    Thereafter, Gavin sat alone, contemplating her words, and the meaning of life. He stared at the little church they had built some years ago to their grandminny’s displeasure.
    In fact, the structure had once been an ancient cairn—a particularly large one that had long been sacked. Gavin had shored up the walls with good sturdy beams and had constructed a timber roof.
    “ You’ll anger the gods!” Fia had railed. “What has this world come to!” And she would walk away, mumbling to herself about the arrogance of youth.
    Unlike the chapel Meggie had begun for him on Montgomerie land, this one was simply a private place to bend the knee and pray—something he rarely did these days as he seemed to have lost his way.
    That’s what the girl had said today, but how would she know? Lucky guess is all.
    He sighed, knowing full well that in the past he had annoyed his siblings with his affinity for scripture. Still they had let him speak his heart.
    Looking back on it now, he was not so certain he understood the desperation behind his studies, though he thought it had something to do with the turmoil in his soul—that emptiness he could not seem to fill no matter how many good deeds he carried out. Or maybe it was a safe diversion.
    Love?
    Magik!
    Humph.
    He stood, scooping up a stone into his hand as he watched the lovers behind the church hie away into the privacy of the woods and felt an unexpected stab of envy.
    Tossing the stone halfheartedly in the direction of the new storehouse, he went inside, determined to finish his house within the week. Of late, it was the one thing that gave him a sense of satisfaction. After weeks of working on it now he was so close. Only the roof must be raised, and then he would begin the well. Once that was done, and he was prepared to till the land, then he would appeal to his brother Leith to trade him a few of the sheep and goats in return for part of his spring harvest.
    Aye, and that also gave him a warmth in his breast that not even Seana’s whiskie could touch.
    As for love... some things were not meant for everyone, he supposed.
    And as for his painted lady was long gone by now, and he’d best cast the image of her out of his mind once and for all. It would serve no purpose to lose his heart over a woman, who, for all practical purposes, did not exist—no matter how lovely those painted breasts were.
     
     
     
    Gavin spent the next two days tending to his usual duties. Neither the MacLeans nor the Brodies were prosperous enough to build the sort of garrison Iain MacKinnon held. But their clearings were hardly insubstantial, and every last man and woman must do their part.
    Once finished, his new house would be a modest home made of good, sturdy mortared stone—hardly any bigger than a common hovel, but that suited Gavin just fine.
    In these parts, only the MacKinnon laird had any sort of stronghold. Seated at the top of the bluff, Chreagach Mhor held the envy of every neighboring clan, for it rivaled even the holdings of the sons of Malcom Cean Mór.
    Luckily for David—the youngest of Malcom’s sons—Iain MacKinnon had no designs on the throne of Scotia. With David’s nose so far up the English King’s arse it wouldn’t take very much to incite the people against him. And with a bloodline that hailed straight back to Kenneth MacAlpin, Iain would surely gain the ear of every Highlander were he to give a care. Thus it was no surprise to anyone that David suddenly seemed to be Iain’s staunchest ally. Anything the MacKinnon decreed, David echoed from the blufftops though it was not that