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“You’re supposed to gas on to your kids about morality,” she said reasonably. “You’re their father; it’s your job.”
“Sassenach,” he said, “I said I havena seen ye naked in four months. That means if ye take your shift off now, ye’ll be the best thing I’ve seen in four months. And at my age, I dinna think I remember farther back than that.”
Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Ian raised a brow, looked from me to Jamie, and shook his head. “Nay wonder ye’re sae fond of her, Uncle. She must be a rare comfort to ye.” “Well,” Jamie said, his eyes fixed on his work, “she keeps takin’ me in—so I suppose she must be home.”
“Catholics don’t believe in divorce,” Bree had informed him once. “We do believe in murder. There’s always Confession, after all.”
But even things that heal leave scars.
“It doesna matter how many things ye do on a farm, there’s always more than ye can do. A wonder the place doesna rise up about my ears and swallow me, like Jonah and the whale.”
“You’re lucky you became Kahnyen’kehaka,” Glutton said at last, shaking his head. “A spirit not satisfied with an evil man being dead but that wants to torture him after death? And Christians think we’re cruel!”
A man needs a wife, and a good one is the greatest gift God has for a man.
There were things that could be planned for, but none of them involved women.
“She is marrying,” Jamie said. “She’s becoming a Bride o’ Christ, ye ignorant Protestant.”
