Page 38 of In the Hands of a Highland Bandit

Finn was not so sure. He had always been a little afraid of deep water, but he was buoyed by Greta’s confidence. However, his stomach gave an ominous lurch as the boat cast off, and as the voyage went on, it became clear that he was not one of those fortunate people who were immune to seasickness.

“I am so glad I was no’ a pirate,” he moaned, shortly after having vomited into a bucket for the fifth time.

“So am I,” Greta agreed fervently. “But we will soon be there, chookie, an’ we will have a whole new life tae look forward tae.”

“If I don’t die first,” Finn groaned, before diving into the bucket once more.

* * *

Whenthey stepped off the ship in the small town of Dunnaig, the weather was cold and windy but dry. As soon as Finn stepped onto dry land again, he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“I can stand up without feelin’ as if I am goin’ tae fall down!” he said joyfully. “Thank God!” The wobbly feeling of the waves underneath the boat had never quite left him. He supposed he was one of those unlucky souls who would never grow “sea legs.”

“Big bairn!” Greta laughed, then she kissed him.

They made their way to the only inn, the Shepherd’s Staff, and secured a room. They had been obliged to share a cramped bunk onboard the boat since they could not afford two berths, and they would be doing likewise at the inn.

Finn had been feeling too sick to feel tempted by passion during the crossing, and now they were simply exhausted, so they collapsed into bed and slept around the clock.

After a breakfast of porridge and ale, it was time to go and look for work.

“I am dreadin’ this,” Finn said grimly as he made his way outside into the main street and looked up and down. “Where do we start, Greta?”

Greta shrugged. “I have no idea,” she answered, sighing despondently. “Maybe the church? There are always people there, an’ if there are none, we could still pray for help!”

However, Finn’s luck seemed to have returned. They began to walk down the dusty street, looking for the church. Suddenly they heard a young male voice calling: “Hey, big man! Stop!”

Finn turned around to see a man about the same age as himself running toward them. He was much smaller and very wiry, with fiery red hair and a short beard. He pulled up alongside them, then smiled and held his hand out.

“Seamus Donnelly,” he said, smiling and showing a row of crooked teeth.

“Finn Crawford, an’ my betrothed, Greta Baines,” Finn answered, looking and sounding a little bewildered. “Can we help ye?”

“Indeed ye can!” the other man answered, looking Finn up and down. “I need somebody tae help me on my farm. My other laborer has left tae go tae greener pastures, an’ I am lookin’ for somebody big an’ strong tae take his place. Ye look like just the fellow I am seekin’.”

Finn and Greta exchanged glances. “I am lookin’ for work,” he told Seamus. “An’ so is Greta.”

“An’ what can ye do, Greta?” Seamus asked pleasantly, smiling at her.

“I can plow fields by hand, make butter, milk cows, slaughter animals, an’ shear sheep,” she answered. “An’ I can catch rabbits an’ make clothes.”

Seamus looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise. “Both of ye, come with me,” he ordered.

* * *

And that was that. As well as employment at the farm, they were given accommodation, with Finn living in a small cottage of his own until they were married. Greta shared the home of Seamus’s mother, a sweet older lady called Clodagh, who welcomed her as if she were her own daughter and treated her as such.

When she heard that Finn and Greta were to be married, her eyes gleamed. “What kind o’ weddin’ do ye want?” she asked eagerly. “I would like tae help if I may.”

“We have nay money, so a very wee one, Clodagh,” Greta replied. “We just want tae be man an’ wife without any fuss or bother, an’ as quick as we can. The only problem is that we are of different faiths. If ye can find a way around that, yer help would be very welcome.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Greta,” she said excitedly. “Ye can have a handfasting. I will organize everything if ye let me. All ye will have tae do is be there.”

Greta was speechless, and her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. After a moment, she said, “It has been years since anybody was so kind tae me, Clodagh. Thank ye.”

“It is my pleasure, lass,” Clodagh answered, smiling. “Ye remind me o’ my daughter. She lives far away in the north, and I miss her.”

“My mother died a long time ago,” Greta told her sadly. “I am so glad ye are here, Clodagh.”

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