Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Series) by Lily Baldwin Read Free Book Online Page A

enough for your rent, especially this late into the season,” he said.
    “Time and again, I have told you to stay away from me. I tire of this argument,” she said, not turning to face him.
    He continued, pretending not to hear her protest. “You could ask the clan to take on the burden without cost to you but that would be dishonorable.”
    She whirled around and stormed over to where he stood. “My husband saved your life, and then you ask me to give up mine. You are the one lacking in honor.”
    “Your husband bid me protect and provide for you, which I am better able to do in the village. I’ve spoken to Ronan. He will take over these lands, have them worked properly and maintained, and he agreed to hold them as Nellore’s dowry. ‘Tis a very generous offer. Accept and you will honor your husband.”
    “Get off my land,” she said through gritted teeth. She swelled with rage as she fought the urge to slap his face.
    “As you command,” he said. Then he turned on his heel and headed off toward the forest.
    ***
    Sweat gushed from Brenna’s brow as she leaned into the unwieldy hand plow. Lacking the strength to maneuver the ox driven plow, the hand tool was her only recourse. This new struggle was not one of brawn but rather of endurance against fatigue and pain.
    But perseverance was never something Brenna lacked.
    She paused to adjust the strips of linen that circled her palms, shielding raw skin and swollen blisters, which throbbed beneath the pressure of the plow. Her arms, numb from the strain, protested the new motion, prickling with dull sensation, but even this was a relief from the sharp pangs that stabbed from shoulder to wrist just an hour before.
    Her day began with fiery determination. She awoke before first light. After a couple of bannock cakes and a cool sip from the stream, she approached her untended fields. Spring had slipped past. If she wanted to celebrate at Lughnasa, the plant could not be delayed.
    She stopped and stared up at the blue sky as she fought to catch her breath. Her body ached but she welcomed the pain. The labor, fatigue, and searing palms would be worth an abundant harvest come autumn. Like the green grass in the stream, she was determined to cling to her home with her very blood if need be. She glanced at the red fluid saturating her bandages.
    For Nellore.
    She examined her progress with surprise, and before she knew what she was doing, her feet kicked up in a joyful but agonizing jig. Once on solid ground, she blushed and surveyed her surroundings to make sure no one observed her outburst. Such an emotional display was certainly unlike her, but then again, she had never singlehandedly plowed a field. The only witness joined in with laughter and giggles and a jig attempt that landed her on her backside. Brenna rushed to her daughter, ignoring the protest from her legs and scooped Nellore into her arms, twirling the wee lass through the air.
    “Do you see what mama did?” She said pointing to the overturned earth spread out before them, ready for seed.
    “Two fields remain.” Pulling Nellore close, she kissed her plump cheeks. “But no more for today.”
    She turned to head inside.
    “Brenna, wait,” Duncan called out.
    Halfway down the hill, Duncan approached with long determined strides. She put Nellore down and urged her inside, reminding her of the bread she kept on a low table just Nellore’s size for when she was hungry.
    Then she whirled around. She did not know what he wanted, but his furrowed brow spoke of his displeasure.
    “For pity’s sake,” she said.
    As he drew near, she felt a spark inside her blossom into fire, fueling her temper. She fought to remain calm, but when he stood before her, his scowl pushed her temper beyond her control. She threw her shoulders back, wincing from the tightness, which seemed to worsen by the minute, but she was determined to ignore the pain. What she was through ignoring, however, was Duncan’s disregard. She was