“Thought I smelt onions on his breath,” Cutter observed, scratching his head.

Jamie got to his feet and flung the note into the campfire. “That dirty bastard—” he spat.

“What is it?” Cutter wanted to know. He was content to remain where he was, sitting on the cold ground in front of the campfire. All around, sheep baahed ceaselessly.

Jamie was striding toward the tree where the horses were tethered. “Increase put ’is name on me friend,” he replied, over one shoulder. “Now, I’m going to put mine on ’is ass!”

Cutter rose from the ground and trotted toward Jamie. “Now, don’t go doin’ anything hotheaded and stupid, Jamie boy.”

Jamie’s horse was ready to ride before he replied through his teeth, “I’m done waitin’, old man. I should ’ave gone after that bleeder long before now.”

Cutter’s voice was a raspy plea. “Jamie boy, you’ve got a wife to think about now—”

Looking down at his friend from the saddle, Jamie countered, “And I’d best be thinkin’ about ’er, ’adn’t I, mate?”

* * *

The ride home took a bit over an hour, and Jamie was in the barn, rubbing down his lathered horse, when Reeve appeared.

“Nice little wife you’ve got in there,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against one of the stall gates.

Jamie didn’t know his brother well—they’d been apart for too many years—but he was glad to see him. And surprised, since Bliss’s note hadn’t mentioned his presence. “Thanks. Your Maggie is proof you ’ave good taste, so I trust your judgment.”

Reeve laughed and then raised one hand to the back of his head, flinching as though his amusement had hurt. “Damn,” he muttered.

Jamie put away the grooming brush, gave the gelding a pat on the neck, and slipped out of the stall. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked, frowning at his brother.

“Maybe me judgment is good,” Reeve confided, “but me manners must not be. When I walked into your ’ouse last night, little brother, your lovely wife brought me to me knees with a fryin’ pan.”

Despite everything, Jamie grinned at the image that rose in his mind and slapped his elder brother on the shoulder. “Man’s got to ’ave a care when ’e deals with Bliss,” he said.

Reeve looked worried. “Can you imagine the mischief she and Maggie could do, if they put their ’eads together?”

Jamie executed a mock shudder, but he knew the expression in his eyes was serious when he asked, “How’s Elisabeth?”

His brother spoke gently. “Your daughter is fine,” he said. “You might come and see ’er now and again, you know.”

Jamie sighed. “That would only complicate things.”

Reeve shook his head as the two men left the barn and started toward the house. “Maggie and me, we decided it was best that she know the truth, Jamie. We told ’er about you and Eleanor.”

Jamie stopped cold, staring at his brother, uncertain whether to be angry or relieved. “Dammit, Reeve,” he muttered, “you might ’ave asked me what I thought, at least. ’Ow can a little one like that be expected to understand, and ’er barely five?”