"What an ignorant lass you are!" said Granny, rocking back in her chair.
Color rose in my face. "I cannot imagine that the McDonald clan would so disregard its own children!" I said.
"Yet I'll warrant you never give a thought to those living in the quarters in the lowcountry," said Granny Moira, "whose fathers live in the big house."
I said nothing. I thought about the slaves at Gillean and at Brianag; I had never seen a half-white child among them. However, I was forced to concede that at Brianag there were so many that I would not have known if there were any.
"You have much to learn, lass," said Granny. "Here at Barraigh we are friends with the Creek tribe and if the boys will scatter their seed among them, they do so knowing that the Creek women own their children."
I returned my attention to the thread in my hands, and remembered again the redhaired bairn on the Indian woman's back. Indeed I had much to learn of the back country.
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I knew that Hamish and the other men were gathering with neighbors to make plans for defending against the outlaws; I tried to put it out of my mind, but the thought was ever-present. Though there were young men and boys armed with muskets riding about the property continuously, I was constantly fearful and yearning for our return to the lowcountry and Brianag. I tried to put my thoughts on more pleasant topics, and the most pleasant was the child growing in me.
I knew the bairn was a boy, as surely as I knew that Robbie was his father. I spent the evenings after supper rocking on the porch, imagining the child playing at my feet in his linen shirt on the lawn at Brianag, his red curls glowing in the sunlight. I imagined Robbie striding up, lifting the boy in his arms, tossing him, and hugged myself and my belly. My longing for Brianag overwhelmed me, and tears stung my eyes. How I wished I could hurry time!
One afternoon the girls did not come for the usual swim after dinner; I supposed they had instead gone to the barns to see the newborn colt that Hamish had spoken of at dinner. I walked slowly down to the cabin, feeling lonely and miserably hot.
"Come, Miss Jessie. I sponge you off, and you have a rest now," said Rabbit. I knew that she wanted a nap herself, so I went inside and allowed myself to be coddled. When she had me settled to her satisfaction, she left me and went out onto the porch; but I could not sleep. I thought of the cool water in the glade and rose quietly, putting a bed gown on over my shift, and went out of the cabin, leaving Rabbit sleeping. I went barefoot down the path, the sun burning the skin of my arms; the screeching of the cicadas seemed to make the air hotter. When I reached the pond I did not hesitate, but threw aside my clothing and dived into the water.