“You have room for the three of us?” she asked, still not answering his question.

“Nathan and Nora and I could have our own bedroom?”

“There’s two spare bedrooms,” he told her. “Ah… I feel it’s only right to warn you that we’ve lost three housekeepers in the last eight months. Do you have a sense of humor, Catherine?”

She finally gave him a small, hesitant smile. “Teenagers don’t scare me.”

“But I do.”

“Yes.”

“I’m the oldest of four siblings,” he told her. “My parents own a Christmas tree farm about two miles away. My sister just had a baby and lives in Greenville, and my brother and little sister are away at college. I have four aunts and uncles nearby and a slew of cousins. I don’t smoke or have more than the occasional drink, and I don’t need to bully a woman to feel like a man.”

Her smile widened the tiniest bit. “It’s usually the employer who asks for references.”

“These are unusual circumstances. I really am desperate for a housekeeper, Catherine.”

Robbie decided it was time to close the deal. “I’ll pay you six hundred dollars a week, plus room and board for the three of you.”

Her smile disappeared and was replaced with disbelief. Catherine looked back outside at the four boys talking to her children. “They’re hellions, aren’t they?” she whispered.

“On their best days,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But they only want direction. That’s my job,” he said when she looked at him again. “Your job is to keep them fed and my house relatively clean. Catherine,” he said, slowly standing up but making sure he kept his distance from her. “My MacBain word of honor, you need not fear me. How about we give you a week to test the waters? If you’re uncomfortable, or if you simply decide you don’t want the job for whatever reason, you can move on. But anything’s got to be better than what you have now.”

She looked at her children and was silent for some time, then took a deep breath and looked back at him. “Okay, Mr. MacBain,” she said. “I accept your offer.”

Robbie made sure she didn’t see his relief—or his triumph.

“For a one-week trial,” she clarified before he could finish rejoicing. “And you pay me in cash.”

“Gunter,” Robbie called out the door, deciding it was time to get this show on the road before she changed her mind. “Bring the kids inside so they can pack their things.” He looked at Catherine. “Anything that can’t be tied to a horse can be gotten later.”

“I only have two suitcases. But there’s more stuff still in my car on the other side of the mountain.”

“We’ll get your car once the storm is over.”

Nathan and Nora rushed in with Gunter and ran up to their mother. She squatted down and pulled both of them to face her. “We’re going to go stay with Mr. MacBain and the boys,” she told them. “They need a housekeeper.”

“We’re going to live with them?” Nathan asked, darting an uncertain look at Robbie.

“Mom,” he whispered. “I don’t think we should do that.”

She gave both children a hug. “It’ll be okay,” she assured them. “If we don’t like it, we can move on after a week.”

Robbie picked up his MacKeage plaid from the table and started to wrap it over his MacBain plaid.

“Your clothes were tied to your saddle,” Gunter said, heading back outside. “We brought your horse with us.”

With only a whisper, Catherine set her kids to gathering up their things. She placed her sewing kit into the larger of the two suitcases, and Rick came over and carried it out to the horses the minute she’d snapped it shut. In no time, the boys had everything tied to the saddles, the four of them obviously eager to get their new housekeeper home and installed in the kitchen.

Gunter handed Robbie his clothes and boots, then left Robbie alone to get dressed while he got everyone settled on horseback.

In less than half an hour after the boys’ arrival, the eight of them were headed down the mountain. Catherine was mounted behind Cody, Nathan behind Rick, and Nora, bless her brave little heart, was quietly riding in front of Gunter.

It had taken Robbie a full minute—and the help of an old stump—to climb onto his own horse. His side felt as if it were on fire, and he was weak as a babe from the loss of blood. But he’d taken the time to slide his sword under the cabin floor when no one was looking, deciding he could pick it up later, before his next exciting adventure for Daar.

The old priest would probably consider his journey back to thirteenth-century Scotland a complete disaster, but Robbie preferred to look on the bright side—he was going home with a new housekeeper. And he was alive and able to fight another day.

He did have to be careful, though. The last person he could face right now was his stepmother, Libby. She was a doctor, but, more than that, she was a healer. If she so much as touched Robbie in the condition he was in now, she would know immediately what had happened. Five seconds later, so would his papa. And within the hour, all five of the Highland warriors would be knocking on Robbie’s door, demanding to help.

And that, Robbie vowed to himself, would not happen.

He was their guardian. It was his responsibility to keep them safe and happy and living here with their families for the rest of their natural lives. Failure had never been part of his vocabulary, and he wasn’t about to become acquainted with it now.

Chapter Seven

For the first timein what seemed like forever, Robbie woke up to the smell of breakfast and the sound of a woman in the kitchen downstairs. He lay in bed, smelling and listening and smiling. Catherine Daniels was up early this morning, not that he should be surprised. She appeared to be a determined little thing—determined to protect her children and now obviously determined to do her job in exchange for shelter.

Heavenly, strong-smelling coffee. Bacon. Toast. And he would bet his farm the little cat had raided his henhouse again.

Robbie threw back the covers to jump out of bed, only to be stopped by the sharp pain in his side. He finished rising more slowly, uttering curses, and leaned over to examine his wound.

Catherine had done a neat job of stitching him up, though she had used bright pink thread. He looked in the bureau mirror at his chest, running his finger lightly over the cut on his shoulder. It would barely leave a scar once it healed. He carefully stretched his arms over his head, slowly working the kinks out. He would ride back up the mountain to Daar’s cabin today, before the priest showed up here and scared off Catherine and her children.

That brought his thoughts to Mary. Why had that contrary owl stayed behind? What could she possibly hope to accomplish? He had to go back and get her, just as soon as he was healed enough to survive another journey through the storm. Only this time, he was taking both plaids.

Robbie pulled some clean but wrinkled jeans out of his bureau and struggled into them.

Then he found an equally wrinkled shirt and slipped it on, whistling through his teeth at his protesting side. Bending down to put on his boots wasn’t even worth contemplating, so he carried them down the stairs in his hands.

He found the table already set. And obviously clairvoyant, Catherine had poured his coffee. It was sitting—steaming, smelling divine—at the head of the table. His new housekeeper was nowhere in sight.

Someone came treading down the stairs, also obviously awakened by the smell of coffee and perfectly cooked bacon. Gunter peeked around the corner, only to scowl. “You haven’t been cooking. This must be the lady’s doing.”

Robbie nodded and sat down at the table while Gunter poured himself a cup of coffee.

The boy stopped, lifted the lid of the frying pan on the stove, and sniffed.

“We can’t lose this one,” he said, coming to sit down across from Robbie. “I had a talk with the others while we unsaddled the horses last night. They’ll do whatever it takes to keep her here.”