No Other Woman (No Other Series) Read Free Page A

and his lands in the care of the MacGinnis clan. Traditionally, though the Douglas laird had held the greatest wealth and power in the area, his distant MacGinnis kinsmen had been his right-hand men. When Douglases were unable or unavailable to lead, the MacGinnisses did so in their stead.
    The night of The Fire, however, had changed everything. It had, perhaps, changed her more than anyone or anything else. She had remained at Craig Rock—the walled village in which both Castle MacGinnis and Castle Craig stood—in horror and misery for some months after the terrible night, then had fled to Glasgow. But she'd been home now for nearly four years, and during the last two years she had asserted herself as the head of the MacGinnis clan and taken a hand in the affairs of Craig Rock. The recent death of the elderly Laird Douglas had further altered the situation. While Laird Douglas had left an heir—his younger son, Andrew—that young man was half-Sioux and deeply embroiled in the affairs of his own country. Shawna knew that Andrew's heart remained in the American West and the wild terrain of his mother's own "savage" people. When he had asked her to continue to manage the Douglas estates for him, she had agreed to do so. As "The MacGinnis," the Lady of the clan, she had responsibilities to the people who lived and worked on MacGinnis as well as Douglas land. Although she had many male relatives—her great-uncles and cousins and second cousins—the title and the MacGinnis property, which bordered that of the Douglases, had become hers upon her father's death. She'd been young at the time and had been willing then to take her lead from her great-uncle Gawain. Then the night of David's death had nearly destroyed her; the months following his demise had been hell. But she had discovered in Glasgow that there was no running away from oneself, and there was nowhere in the world like home—especially when home was the Highlands.
    "We all fall prey to superstition now and then," Shawna said with a smile. "It's part of our character as a people, part of our charm, in my opinion," she told him, ruefully grinning. "We are near the Night of the Moon Maiden, when the November orb rises full and the demons may fall upon the virtuous lasses if they don't take care. Once, it was a time to fear, and now we do our best to celebrate and feast. Mark, you and I know that there are no ghosts, goblins, pookas, or the like living in the mines. We must convince the men that the banging is some natural occurrence, as we know that it must be. But tell me, have you spoken to my great-uncle Gawain about this problem?" she asked.
    Mark nodded. "I'm afraid your great-uncle does not understand the hearts of men as you do, my lady. Gawain says that I should tell the lads to work the tunnel or forget their pay. You know as well as I that the men must have their money in Order to live."
    "Aye, I know."
    In Shawna's opinion, there was no place more beautiful on all the earth than the Highlands of Scotland. No place wilder, more unique, finer. But the Highlands were losing her people. Industrialization was causing them to desert the lands they struggled to farm, and to seek better livings in the cities. Still, the Highlanders remained fiercely bound to their families, and many stayed because they were responsible to older parents, injured relatives, or young children. Many stayed as well because the Highlands were home as no place else could be.
    "The blessing of the coal mines is that so many may live on account of them," Shawna told Mark. "We must make the men feel it is quite safe to work. As safe as we can make mining, at that. Well, I shall see to it that the Reverend Massey comes out first thing in the morning. I'll talk to the men."
    "And to Gawain? He is distraught already that you have set limits upon the time the children may work."
    Shawna nodded without saying anything. Gawain did not much appreciate her interference with what he considered men's