By the time Keeley returned to the keep, the sun had already slipped beyond the horizon and cold permeated her bones. She was weary and aching from all the bending and kneeling, but she’d been successful beyond her expectations. The McCabes had an excellent stock of plants and roots, and now her skirt was full as she trudged toward the door.

　　She shivered and curled her fingers a little tighter into the material of her dress as she clutched the ends so the tiny shoots didn’t fall. Her hands were numb with cold and her teeth had long since stopped chattering. She could barely feel her chin.

　　She stumbled going...