Sidra smiled. “I think a song would suffice, once your hand has recovered. Maisie would love to hear your music. It’s been a long time since we have enjoyed such a luxury.”

Jack nodded, carefully flexing his fingers. “I would be honored.”

The back door swung open, and the windstorm that was Maisie and Torin returned. Sidra noticed that Torin had a few fresh scratches on his knuckles, from the kittens, no doubt, and a peevish gleam in his eyes. Also from the kittens.

“Let’s eat,” he said gruffly, as if he were in a hurry.

Sidra sat, and they began to pass dishes around the table. She observed that Jack ate very little, that his hands shook, that his eyes were bloodshot. She listened as Torin spoke of the isle and realized that Jack didn’t know any of the current news. He meekly asked about Laird Alastair, about the crops and the guard and the tension with the west.

“I often worry about my mum, living so close to the clan line alone,” he said. “It’s good to hear things have been peaceful here.”

Sidra paused, but she met Torin’s gaze. Does Jack not know . . . ? She was opening her mouth to say it, but Torin cleared his throat and changed the subject. Sidra relented, realizing if Jack didn’t know, it wasn’t her place to inform him, even though she now worried about him finding out later.

As soon as the meal was over, Torin rose.

“Come, Jack,” he said. “I’m heading to the city and can walk you there. Best to see the laird first and then your mum, before the wind carries any further gossip about you.”

Jack nodded.

Maisie began her chore of carrying cutlery and cups to the wash barrel, and Sidra followed the men to the threshold. Jack walked the path through the kail yard, down to the road, but Torin lingered.

“I hope four of those kittens have found their new homes by the time I return,” he said, partly teasing.

Sidra leaned on the doorframe, the wind tangling her dark hair. “They’re too young to be separated from their mother.”

“How much longer then?”

“Another month, at least.” She crossed her arms and met his steady gaze with one of her own. She was testing him, of course. To see when she could next expect him to come to her. To see how much time she had to prepare her argument for keeping Maisie home.

“That’s a long time,” he stated.

“Not really.”

But he looked at her as if it were. “Perhaps you and Maisie can begin to find people who want the kittens.”

“Of course,” said Sidra with a smile. “We will make the most of our time.”