The joyous occasion of their Christmas celebrations gave way to the welcoming arrival of not only the new year but also the birth of Callum and Maeve’s firstborn, a girl they named Roisin (Rose). She instantly became the apple of her father’s eye. Roisin quickly took centre stage in the Hamilton clan, with the twins now favouring playing with their little cousin and treating her like their baby sister. Lorna, the only unmarried sibling, was more than happy to look after her niece whenever Maeve asked for her help.

Lorna, meanwhile, had built a strong rapport with Macbeth, her faithful hunting dog. They were often seen leaving early in the morning for their regular hunting exploits. She did have one wonderful surprise: one of the horses was with a foal, and the offspring, a filly with a shiny black coat and one white spot on her forehead, was given to Lorna as a present from Callum. Lorna was absolutely ecstatic and promptly named her Midnight.

Midnight was approximately three and a half years old when Lorna started training her to be saddled. This was a considerably difficult task, as Midnight had no intention of being saddled. She kicked, pranced, and bolted around the training enclosure, and on a number of occasions, if Lorna had not been so fleet-footed, she would have suffered some major injuries from the sudden back kicks. However, her patience and natural ability to deal with animals finally paid dividends. Midnight accepted being saddled, and both rider and horse went out on a wild run across the farm. On that first ride, Lorna noticed—no, she felt—the powerful strength that was beginning to develop in this wild-spirited beast she was riding. Soon, rider and horse became a singular entity as trust and love grew in their relationship.

On a couple of runs, she would allow Macbeth to tag along, and surprisingly, he would keep up with them. Now, a three-part relationship was being established as the horse and dog developed an animal friendship. This new development made Lorna feel like this was her own private family. Other family members tried riding Midnight, but sadly, none succeeded.

The trio would often go as far as the edge of the forest, where there was a wooded area alongside a slow-flowing stream with a lovely grassy patch right next to it. Lorna would unsaddle Midnight and allow her to wander around the clearing, enjoying the sweet grass or drinking the cool, fresh water from the stream. She brought some jerky for Macbeth, who also slaked his thirst at the stream. Lorna never ventured further into the forest with Midnight, fearing that if they were attacked by dangerous wild boars, the horse might be lamed or even killed.

On her hunting days, with Macbeth tagging along, Midnight was left to roam the farm she was accustomed to. History almost ended up repeating itself, but this time, it was Lorna’s hunting partner who was in danger. Macbeth had learned to let Lorna take point, as she was the leader and equipped to handle any danger. But this day, picking up the trail of a wild boar, he moved ahead. Lorna, sensing the possibility of an attack, nocked an arrow and was ready to let it fly. Just in time, a fully grown boar with extended, evil tusks charged down the path at them. She took aim and released that deadly arrow, striking the boar and embedding its sharp tip in its brain. The boar’s speed and bulk caused its momentum to continue, and its body collapsed a mere two metres from them. Grateful that there were no other boars present, as this one was a maverick out on its own, Lorna decided that would be all the hunting for the day.

With all the additions to the family through marriage and births, the combined family dinners were now just occasional arrangements. At one such occasion, held in the original home’s dining room, which was now overcrowded with all the family members, a discussion arose about the children and their schooling. Most of the boys and girls went to boarding schools, normally a great distance from home. Stories about these educational institutes were horrifying, and many times, the children grew up rebellious and never fitted back into their families and, by extension, the communities they came from. The local school had only one female teacher, and she would only teach the younger girls a curriculum that was never standardised and had to be adapted for a variety of age groups. The three children in their group needed to be educated, and the choices available were rejected unanimously by the parents and the other older family members.

At this point, there was total silence, which was suddenly broken by Elizabeth, who announced, “I will give them homeschooling, as I’ve had some good formal schooling myself in the city we came from. I have my own personal library which has an abundance of books on quite a number of subjects, including English literature and arithmetic.” Maeve spoke up at this point, “I can assist Lizzy by augmenting her teaching with the knowledge I acquired as a stage performer and that good old Irish singing and storytelling.” This new development was hotly discussed, with views for and against the idea weighed up.

After much was said and done, Angus, the family patriarch, said in a commanding voice, “Our choice is a limited one, and what Lizzy and Maeve have proposed is the best option we have. I support their endeavour to homeschool the children. All in favour say ‘Aye.’” After a moment of silence as everyone processed the idea, the room suddenly burst into a chorus of “Ayes,” causing the two ladies to display broad smiles across their faces. “Order of business settled,” said Angus. “Anything else we need to talk about?”

At that point, Esther interjected, “We’re all married; what about our baby sister, Lorna? I was in town the other day and overheard some youngsters talking about what a good catch she’ll be for the lucky man she weds.”

At that instant, Lorna spoke out, “Discussion closed. I’m not interested in any relationship of that kind. Not now, not ever. I like my life as it is. No one to be bothered about and nobody to answer to except, of course, my beloved family members. I am a free-spirited individual.”

“Don’t you want to be happily married like us?” Evander asked.

He got an instant response: “You’re all happily married. I, for one, am happy! Happy and single. Do not complicate my life.”

There was a hush in the room when Esther, who had started the discussion, exclaimed, “Discussion closed,” knowing Lorna’s fiery temperament. Needless to say, this topic was never raised again.

The next day, as if trying to clear her head about the discussion surrounding her single status, she first took Midnight on a wild gallop across the farm. The horse, sensing her tension, didn’t run as well as she normally would. Returning to the farm, she donned her hunting gear: leather breeches, bow, a quiver with seven arrows, and a hunting knife at her side, and called out for Macbeth to follow her. He was only too happy to oblige. She rode Midnight up to the clearing in the trees, dismounted, and smacked her on the rear—an indication for her to return to the farmstead. By now, Lorna had settled her mind, and with a clear, calculating focus, she entered the forest.

Today, her hunting plan was to catch some rabbits for a good, wholesome Scottish stew tonight. Artemis, the goddess of hunting who also favoured the bow and arrow, smiled on her that day, as her hunting went off without a hitch. She took home a rabbit count of fourteen. She still resided in the main house with Esther and her husband and took three rabbits for them, distributing the others among the other family homes.

Some weeks later, on a Saturday, Lizzy wasn’t feeling well and asked Lorna to take care of the boys. Lorna told her she planned on going into the village and asked if she could take them along. She received a nod of approval from her sister-in-law. Aunt and nephews got dressed, and the boys, who had by now also learned to ride horses, set off on their new adventure: a town visit with Aunt Lorna. As part of her attire, she had her trusted bow and quiver of seven arrows with her.

Her first stop was at the greengrocer’s shop to purchase the items they did not grow in their garden. Next stop was at the grocery store to purchase items needed by Esther. While she was inside, the boys remained outside with the horses. Just as she was paying for her goods, she heard the twins cry for help. Rushing outside, she was confronted by four youths roughing up the two boys for preventing them from taking the horses.

“Leave those boys and leave those horses!” she yelled, just having fitted an arrow to her bow. She recognised Otto, the sheriff’s son and leader of this motley crew. He smirked and, producing a knife, said that if she tried anything, he would stab one of the boys. His mistake was that he normally got away with his crimes because his dad never reprimanded him for his lifestyle.

Lorna the Huntress, seeing the danger Mischief was in, let fly with her first arrow, piercing the wrist holding the knife. Before any of the others could move, a second arrow was on its way, taking down the youth holding Goodboy, piercing his shoulder. The other two assailants turned and ran as fast as they could. Knowing the cold-hearted, useless sheriff, the storeman encouraged Lorna to get mounted and go home for safety from the murderous sheriff and his deputies.

Arriving at the farm, she delivered the boys safely to Lizzy and got her brothers to meet her at the main house. She explained what took place, and they, also aware of the sheriff’s reputation, armed themselves and set off to the main farm gate to await the arrival of the hunting party. They weren’t disappointed. It didn’t take long for Sheriff Jude to arrive, accompanied by no less than a party of eight town layabouts, including the two deputies.

Sheriff Jude shouted, “Hand over your sister, Lorna! She’s charged with the attempted murder of two town boys.”

Angus replied in an angry voice, “They threatened two defenceless little boys with knives! Besides, if she really wanted to kill them, both boys’ bodies would be lying on cold tables in the mortuary. They deserved it, and knowing your kind of justice, kindly step off our property, or you and a few of your friends will be taken back to town in boxes.”

One belligerent, drunken oaf raised his gun, and Callum shot him clean through the right shoulder. This show of resistance had its effect, and the sheriff and his posse were sent packing.

Soon, the whole countryside was aware of this incident, and while the sheriff raised a second, bigger posse, Lorna, to avoid further trouble for her family, went into the woods, taking Macbeth with her. Years back, she had discovered, quite by accident, a hidden cave on their property which no one ever knew about, and she had kept it a secret for just such a time as this. No one would ever find her there unless they knew the hidden entrance.

She discovered it on one of her hunting trips. A mountain goat she spotted and started hunting just seemed to vanish into thin air. This happened on three occasions, and it raised her desire to improve her hunting skills and also satisfy her curiosity. She made a note of the area and its surroundings. There was a five-metre waterfall as part of the stream flowing through the eastern part of their wooded property, and the mountain goat would make his escape in that neck of the woods.

She set up a spy camp, a tent built of wood and leaves to blend into the forest, with a clear sight of the area surrounding the waterfall. Having borrowed her brother Angus’s spyglass and with victuals and water for a couple of days, she hid herself. Her patience and skills paid off, and she caught sight of this fleet-footed animal finding his way up the mountain face. At a point two metres from the base, he climbed onto a ledge unseen by prying eyes, except for hers through the spyglass. This ledge extended behind the waterfall, giving the idea of the goat disappearing from sight.

Gathering her bow, arrows, and hunting knife, she got out of her hiding place and, using the same climbing routine, got onto the ledge and inched her way behind the waterfall. There, she had her first view of a cave, roughly six metres wide and extending for about eight metres into the rear. The roof of the cave was over two metres high, and as she took it all in, she noticed that there was a small rivulet running through the cave, giving it a constant supply of fresh water. The cave received light through an aperture—a crack forty-five centimetres long and five centimetres wide in the cave roof. There was sparse vegetation, causing the goat to venture out for food. She saw the goat in the far back getting ready to charge this intruder into his “home.” She was prepared for the charge, having taken her knife out. As the goat ran towards her, she stepped to her left side and, catching its horns with her left arm, in one quick stroke with the knife in her right hand, she slit its throat. She would have loved to let him go but knew there was no alternative; it was either her life or his.

In preparation for this very day, she had stocked up on plenty of dried meat (jerky for both her and Macbeth), some dried fruit (raisins, figs, dates), dried vegetables (peas and beans), and pickled carrots in bottles. She had a store of ground coffee and sugar for the occasional hot drink she desired. She had mastered the art of starting a fire with flint stones and building a smokeless fire for cooking and heating water for coffee.

She planned to sit tight for the next couple of days. On one occasion, she heard the voices and noises made by the sheriff’s posse searching for her and had the sure comfort that they would never find her hiding place. On the third night, she ventured out with Macbeth, going straight to Evander’s place, knowing that because of the boys, she had to avoid going to big brother Angus. She explained, without giving details of her hiding place, that she was safe and only needed some food items plus a little milk for a decent cup of coffee. She requested a big bag of ground pepper and asked him to relay to the family that she was safe and sound and not to worry. She left and soon disappeared into the darkness.

That night, she left Macbeth in the cave for his own health and went out, distributing handfuls of pepper on the pathways in various parts of the forest. This she did in anticipation of them coming with tracker dogs in search of her. Her foresight and preparation paid off, as two days later, a posse with ten tracker dog owners entered the forest in search of her. It didn’t take long for the sniffing dogs to react to their painful nasal experiences, and they and their owners left the search party. Hearing the dogs’ painful barking in the distance, she felt for their suffering but knew that it was a necessity to have done what she did.

The sheriff, in his relentless quest for serving his kind of justice, soon found himself fighting to retain his position as sheriff. The Hamiltons, well-respected as upright-standing citizens, had gained the support of the whole farming community and, to a greater extent, the townsfolk. A meeting was called to discuss his fitness for duty.

The sitting town council had also had enough of his high-handed ways, plus his son’s unimpeded destructive ways. It didn’t take long for them to vote for him to be stripped of his title, and with a unanimous vote, Evander Hamilton was sworn in as the new town and county sheriff, effective immediately. His first duty as sheriff was to take the exiting sheriff’s badge and pin it on his own vest. The home the sheriff and his family used was council property, and he, his wife, and their horrible offspring had to leave town before sundown. Sadly to say—no, gladly to say—they were never seen or heard of again. Evander cleaned the town of all unsavoury personnel, bringing law and order back to their town.

Lorna only learned of these new developments, including her freedom from the trumped-up charges, the night she came to visit Evander. Surprised by the sight of the sheriff’s badge on his chest and hearing the good news, she threw her arms around him and kissed him on both cheeks, happy as could be. Hoping that this would never happen again, she was only too glad to take her three brothers to her hidden “safe house.” They were amazed at this cave and discussed turning it into a retreat for themselves when their wives gave them hell.

That very afternoon, she saddled Midnight, and as usual, with Macbeth tagging along, these three close friends darted off into the sun straight to the tree-lined, wooded clearing. They only returned to the farmhouse late that afternoon to be met by the whole family, all in high spirits at the return of the “Prodigal Daughter.” Lorna just lapped up all the attention, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was well-loved. In celebration—after all, they were Scottish and any reason to celebrate was welcomed—Angus had a few bottles of whisky plus two barrels of beer on tap provided. The wives collectively made the meals that were served, including some Haggis, and Lorna performed the famous sword dance. All had a great time, and it was long remembered as one of their most memorable parties.