She sent him a look of disgust before settling into the saddle for the short journey ahead.

The wind kicked up and Keeley swore she could smell snow coming. The sky was cast in gray and the clouds swelled, puffy and ready to drop their moisture at any moment.

She shivered as they rode steadily forward. Gannon pulled the blanket tighter around her with one hand while he guided his horse with the other. She clutched gratefully at the ends and pushed back against him so she could absorb his warmth.

To the side, Laird McCabe halted his horse and issued an order for Cormac to ride ahead and alert the keep of their return. Around her the cry went up from the group of warriors. They’d entered McCabe land.

“Make sure my wife stays in the keep where she belongs,” the laird ordered Cormac.

Cormac sighed wearily and the other warriors gave him looks of pity as he rode ahead.

Gannon chuckled and Keeley turned, eyeing him curiously.

Gannon shook his head. “ ’Tis an impossible task our laird has charged Cormac with, and he well knows it.”

“Is Lady McCabe not accommodating of the laird’s wishes?”

Around them several men laughed. Even Caelen wore a hint of amusement at her question.

“It would be disloyal of me to answer your question,” Gannon said solemnly.

Keeley shrugged. She knew from experience that when women were heavy with child they tended to be more headstrong. Being trapped inside the keep would probably drive any pregnant woman insane. She couldn’t fault the laird’s wife for wanting a bit of freedom now and again.

An hour later, they topped a rise, and Keeley looked down at the dark waters of a loch spread across the valley and butting into the dramatic hills. Nestled in the bend was a keep in various stages of repair, or disrepair, although it looked as if the men were working hard to rebuild the walls.

The McCabes looked as though they were on hard times. While she herself could hardly be considered wealthy, she was self-sufficient and she never went without food.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, the laird turned and fixed her with a steely stare.

“You will be well provided for on McCabe land. As long as you do the tasks we’ve brought you here for, you will be amply rewarded with a place to live and food on your table.”

She almost snorted. He made it sound so civilized, as if they’d hired her services. Snatching her from the warmth of her blankets at dawn could hardly be construed as an invitation.

“Will you work through the winter, Laird?” she asked as they rode down the incline toward the bridge that led over the loch and into the courtyard of the keep.