A few weeks after Simon MacKimmie’s arrest, Claire was just finishing up with her laces on a Monday morning, when there was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Come in?”
Fergus opened the door, looking a bit flabbergasted, but not in complete distress as he was the day Marsali had shown up with a split lip.
“What is it?” Claire asked.
“There is…ah…I think you need to see.”
Claire’s brow furrowed. “Alright…?” Rather than waste time trying to pin up her hair, she pulled it back with a piece of twine, tying it tightly as she scurried down the stairs after Fergus.
“She would not answer any of my questions. Just got in the wagon without a word and told me to drive off.”
“What are you talking about…?”
And then, sitting in the parlor on a chair was Marsali, a small bundle in her lap. A small bundle with bright red hair.
Tori