High on a Mountain Read Online Free Page A

more to drive
our cattle across his holdings.”
    “Aye.”
    “He does.”
    “He charges too much.”
    All the men made comments. Aodh held up his
hand, asking for silence.
    “What if we made the drive to Dumbarton
instead of Crieff?” Aodh looked around the group to judge their
response to his suggestion. “We might get less for the cattle in
Dumbarton, but I’ve worked out a path that would take us across
Tòmas Cambeul’s holdings instead of Eachann’s.”
    The men were silent as they considered Aodh’s
words, and he waited for a response.
    At last, Gabhran spoke. “I, for one, would be
pleased to do that, no matter what Tòmas charges. Not having to
deal with Latharn would make it worthwhile.”
    “What do you say, Boisil? Coinneach?” Aodh
asked.
    “I like the idea,” Coinneach said.
    And Boisil said, “Let’s do it.”
    Gabhran smiled. “I’d love to see the look on
Latharn’s face when he realizes he won’t get money from us this
year.”
     
     
    THREE
     
    Sixteen-year-old Mùirne MacGriogair rolled
over, stretched and yawned. She opened her eyes when the sounds of
morning penetrated her wakening haze, and she stretched again. She
heard Ma stoke the fire, heard Grandma MacPhàrlain’s wooden spoon
scrape the inside of the iron pot that hung from the rafters. The
porridge would be ready soon.
    At that thought, Mùirne’s stomach growled in
anticipation.
    “Mùirne!” Ma called.
    “I’m awake,” she answered.
    Mùirne climbed out of the warmth of her bed
and dressed. She tugged a comb through her curly red hair and tied
it back with a length of wool yarn. She wasted no time on her
appearance; it was of no importance to her.
    She came from behind the curtained partition
that separated the sleeping area from the living area and stood by
the open hearth in the center of the room, waiting for her
breakfast. Grandma handed her a bowl of porridge, and she ate it
standing by the fire. She finished, set her empty bowl on the
worktable and started toward the cabinet to get bread and cheese
for her midday meal. She wanted to hurry, wanted to be out of the
confines of the house and in the open spaces.
    The biggest ewe bleated in the byre, the
sound loud in the small cottage. She bleated again and Grandma
said, “Better get her milked before she makes us deaf.”
    “Yes, Grandma,” Mùirne said, and led the ewes
outside.
    They were accustomed to this routine and each
one stood still to be milked. Mùirne enjoyed the milking,
especially on cool mornings like this one. The ewes’ udders felt
warm and comforting to her hands. She finished, carried the wooden
bucket of milk inside and set it on the work table.
    Mùirne glanced outside through the open door
and saw the biggest ewe start across the clearing toward the woods,
with the others following. She ran after them and turned them in
the direction of Loch Lomond. She would take them to graze in a
small glen on the shore of the loch, her favorite place.
    She guided the sheep along the path as it
curved around a patch of woods. Mùirne remembered she didn’t have
food for her noon meal. She stopped the sheep and started them
grazing on the bit of grass near the path. She hurried through the
woods to the cottage, approaching it from the side. She didn’t want
to give the sheep time to scatter.
    She neared the open door and heard voices
from inside.
    Grandma said, “I don’t know if we’ll ever get
that girl married. She’s so peculiar—”
    “There’s time yet,” her mother answered.
    “Most girls of sixteen are thinking about
marrying. But all she wants to do is be out in the wilds with the
sheep. You need to take a strong hand with her, talk to her.”
    “I will, Ma.”
    “Don’t wait too long. Here she’s fortunate
enough to have a fine, handsome man like Latharn Cambeul come
a-courting…”
    Cambeul …Grandma’s voice faded away,
pushed into the background by the unwelcome memory as it came and
filled Mùirne with an unreasoning