“Aye, Daddie. But that’s not what I was going to tell you.” Maisie set her smile on him, and Sidra braced herself. “Flossie had her kittens.”

Torin’s brow rose. He looked straight to Sidra. A father who sensed he was standing in a bog.

“Did she now?” he said, but he continued to stare at Sidra, knowing she had set this convenient trap for him. “How wonderful, Maisie.”

“Yes, Daddie. And Sidra said I must ask you if I can keep them all.”

“Sidra said that?” Torin, at last, glanced back to his daughter. Sidra could feel her cheeks getting warm, but she set Jack’s instrument in his chair and resumed her tea pouring. “She loves her cats, doesn’t she?”

“I love them too,” Maisie said vibrantly. “They are so cute, Daddie! And I want to keep all of the kittens. Can I, can I please?”

Torin was silent for a beat. Again, Sidra could feel the heat of his gaze on her as she moved from teacup to teacup.

“How many kittens are there, Maisie?”

“Five, Daddie.”

“Five? I . . . I don’t think you can keep them all, sweetheart,” Torin said, to which Maisie let out a whine. “Listen to me, Maisie. What about the other crofts that need a good cat to guard the kail yards? What about the other lasses who don’t have any kittens to hold and love? Why don’t you share? Give four kittens to other lasses and keep one for yourself.”

Maisie slumped, scowling.

Sidra decided to add her input, saying, “I think that is a great plan, Maisie. And you can always go and visit the other kittens.”

“Do you promise, Sidra?” Maisie asked.

“I promise.”

Maisie smiled again and wiggled her way down from Torin’s arms. She sat in her chair, eager for breakfast, and Sidra turned back to the fire, to set her kettle on the hook. She felt Torin approaching, then heard him whisper into her hair, “How are you ever going to have a guard dog here if the croft is overrun with cats?”

Sidra straightened, felt the air pull between them. “I’ve told you, Torin. I need no guard dog.”

“For the hundredth time, Sid . . . I want you to have a dog. To guard you and Maisie at night when I am away.”

They had argued about this for an entire season now. Sidra knew why Torin was so insistent. Every warm night that passed only heightened his anxiety about a potential raid. And if it wasn’t the Breccans sparking his worries, it was the malevolent folk. Trouble had been wandering the isle lately, in the wind and the water and the earth and the fire. Two young girls had gone missing, and she understood why he was so persistent. Neither she nor Torin wanted to see Maisie at risk of being ushered away by a faerie spirit. But Sidra didn’t believe a guard dog was the solution.