Was it normal for a man to let a woman watch his house when he way away? Normalcy was the only thing she was concerned about, because it certainly wasn't proper. She supposed it was a good thing, then, that propriety wasn't an important factor here in the Hebrides. She regularly wandered around MacFusty house with shirtless, sweaty, unmarried men; went out into the fields with no chaperon supervision; and sometimes—if she was doing something physical—wore a sleeves dress that brushed the top of her ankles.

Jamie was coming back today after his week with the toddlings, and Bella was finishing up the final touches on his home. She'd swept and polished the floors, shaken the rugs, rearranged his supplies, sorted through books and paper and miscellaneous object that were scattered about—basically, she'd changed everything. (And on top of that, she'd made him something to eat, but she'd let him find that out for himself once she'd left.)

Bella was outside taking sheets off the clothing line when the figure of Jamie came into sight. She stopped what she was doing and threw the remaining sheets into the clean laundry basket.

"I thought you'd never come back!" she called, waving a hand in the air in greeting.

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