“An older, inebriated Scot who looked like he'd been sitting on his barstool all day looked me up and down, then smelled the air. "Heh, neebr, goat a deid an'mal in yer bac'pac, or iz it ye tha' bloody stinks?"My brain took a moment to translate. "Actually, yes, there is a dead animal in my backpack, but I probably stink, too.”

“So, you tumbled that wolf you were with?” Mercy was too much a pack animal to take offense at the personal question. She grinned. “How did you know it was me?” “Do I look senile to you?”...“Yes,” Mercy said. “And I'm not doing it again.” If she kept telling herself that, maybe her traitorous body would actually notice and shut up with its demands. The older woman gave her a sour look. “Damn shame. What, you like them prettier?” A snort. “In my day, we liked men who looked like men.”

“Without warning, he jumped into the air. Startled, I held him tighter, my cheek against his. Speaking into my ear, he said, “Yer not too tall, nor too thin, nor do ye weigh too much. Yer perfect the way ye are, lass. A man that does not possess the strength, patience and intelligence to provide fer and protect a woman is no man at all.”

“Yer timin stinks, he says.”

“I recall the look in Rhauk's eyes the moment he spotted Kate. It will stay with me forever, carved into my brain like an engraving on a headstone. It's as if he found something he treasured, something he's been looking for all his life.”

“The slight pull was all it took to completely unbalance his precarious load and dump the manure - all atop her boots. "Bloody hell! Look what ye done!" the boy cried...If ye hadn't come along and pulled me o'er it ne'er would have happened.But now ye'd best clean it up afore Devington or Jeffries comes along." "Me?" she replied incredulously. "I'm not the clumsy oaf who dumped it. It's not my mess to clean." "Well, I ain't about to be the last to finish my chores. Devington will have me turning over the reeking dung pit instead of breaking me fast wi' the other chaps." "That's nothing compared to my boots, you ham-fisted lout!" "Tweren't me what pulled the wheelbarrow arse over tea kettle, ye wantwit! Go bugger yer mother and lick yer boots clean!" "I'll box your ears, you brazen-faced little jackanapes!...”