Madeleine was a city girl: born and raised in New Orleans, completing her novitiate in New York, and settling down at Sacred Heart in Philadelphia. She’d worked in community gardens and so on, but that was the extent of her experience with agriculture.

She’d had no idea how much work went into running a farm. If you’d asked her, she’d have said that of course it must be a hard life, but seeing it up close was different. Morning to night, there was always something to do.

The work changed from season to season. From Hæra she learned that the summer was for fattening up the lambs for sale. In autumn, rams would be put out to breed with ewes. The ewes were gravid throughout winter, and March to April was lambing season. Shearing began in May, and then summer arrived and the cycle started again.

It sounded exhausting, but in some respects it was similar to the life Madeleine had left: a routine that kept people busy all day. A chance to put in hard work and then see the fruits of it. And a community of people to share it with.

At the barn, Hæra introduced her to the full-time farmhands. Jim was a lanky man who looked to be in his early thirties. Connor seemed older than Madeleine, stocky and at ease in his environment. The men were clearly curious about her, but Connor only said that it was nice to have a visitor, and Jim said he hoped she had a good time on the islands. No questions—the opposite of Harry Duggan.

Perversely, this made Madeleine more forthcoming. Was there anything more likely to draw you out of yourself than someone who wasn’t nosy? “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll be on Jorsay for a month.”

Connor and Jim glanced at each other, raising their eyebrows. But Connor only said, “Ah, lovely.”

Maybe Hæra’s presence prevented them from inquiring further. She stood with crossed arms and feet planted wide. She was taller than all three of them, and she seemed to loom. Madeleine had the impression she didn’t want the conversation to go on too long.

“Well,” she said, fighting against her own awkwardness, “I don’t know a lot about farms, but this looks like an impressive operation.”

That drew the first real smiles from both of them. “Aye, we’re proud of it,” Connor said. “It’s backbreaking and that, but worth it.”

“Have you always farmed?”

“All my life. Da was a crofter on Stronsay but gave it up when my brothers went to work at the oil terminal. Better money there, but it’s not for me. Word went out that this new farm needed some hands, and I came out here. It’s done better than any new farm’s got a right to.”

“I can see the work that goes into it,” Madeleine said. “And the pride, too.”