Work stopped, and one of the men turned. He was a large man with a face bearing a full beard and bright, green eyes. Kind, lively eyes on a beast’s body, that was Lochlann, blacksmith of the border town.

“Oi, Eibhlin!” came the voice of the other roof man. “What’s your business this mornin’? The usual?”

Eibhlin held up her bag. The man laughed and turned only to find himself alone on the incomplete building. When he looked back down to the ground, he couldn’t see Eibhlin through Lochlann’s broad back.

“Good morning, Eve-my-lin!”

“Good morning, Papa. I woke up late, so breakfast is a bit light,” she said.

Lochlann laughed. “You don’t need to be troubled about this old man.”

“And you need to not trouble our neighbors,” said Eibhlin. “They already make you lunch every day. I don’t want them having to make you breakfast, too, or risk you falling over again from hunger.”

One of the bundling men said, “Give it up, Lochlann. She’s Kyra’s daughter.”

Lochlann’s face softened to an expression Eibhlin knew well. Only one name made him make it. “You really are. I wish you could have known her better, Eve.”

Eibhlin said, “I’m fine, Papa. No, really, I am. I hardly even remember Mama, anyway.”

Lochlann smiled, though slightly, and lifted the satchel from his daughter’s shoulder. “Sorry to make you bring this again.”

“If it bothers you,” said the wall-top man, “why don’t you sleep in, eat breakfast at home for a change.”

“How can you say that when there’s still so much work to do?” said Lochlann.

“How indeed,” said Eibhlin. “Please don’t worry about me. I don’t mind the walk, and it’s good to get out of the house, anyway.”

From beside an injured worker, Brien said, “Maybe you don’t mind, but your father needs more rest. Skipping meals, working long, hard days, you’ll make yourself sick at this rate, Lochlann.”

“Oh, Doctor, you’re back,” said Lochlann. “How’s the morning so far?”

“Not as bad as yesterday, he said, unrolling a strip of bandage cloth, “but still too many workers rushing to finish jobs, making mine that much busier.”

“And you’re telling me to rest more when you’re busy yourself?” said Lochlann.

“I’m a doctor,” said Brien. “It’s my job to not rest so my patients can, and I don’t need you on that list, too.”

“I say you both need rest,” said Leana. “Really, it’s like you two are trying to work yourselves to death.”

Eibhlin spoke. “It’s fine. Maybe Papa works too much, but if his body really needs to rest, it’ll tell him. Besides, he’s working to help everyone. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Doctor Brien said nothing, but his wife sighed. She said, “You have a good daughter, Lochlann. Make sure you take care of her properly.”

“But of course! Don’t you trust me?” he said.

“It’s not quite that,” she said. Leana glanced to her husband, but his eyes stayed focused on the wrapping bandage. She said to Eibhlin, “If you ever need help, just tell me, okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Eibhlin. “Don’t worry about me and just focus on getting everyone else fixed up.”

Leana frowned but said nothing more.

“By the way, do you need me as an extra hand?” asked Eibhlin.

Doctor Brien answered, “Actually, yes, that would be great. Almost everyone not working on houses is out with the flocks, so if you could help a bit, we’d appreciate it.”

“Okay,” said Eibhlin. “Papa, don’t forget to eat your breakfast. Also, tonight I’ll have potato and chicken soup for dinner, so don’t come back too late, or it’ll be cold.”

Lochlann beamed. “I guess I’ll need to be home early, then.”

Before Eibhlin could say anything more, a crash came from down the road, and she and the doctors rushed off. From there, the morning passed quickly as Eibhlin ran around town patching up one injury after another. As the noon bell tolled, she sat with Leana eating a light lunch of biscuits and cheese while Brien met with the men to discuss the afternoon’s tasks.

“Do you really need to head back?” asked Leana.

Eibhlin nodded. “I need to check the garden, and then there’s cleaning to do and dinner to make and whatever else might pop up. I don’t want to risk going late.”

“Yes, that’s true,” said Leana. “Things usually take more time than you think. You know, you don’t have to worry about dinner. Brien and I could- Oh! Could it be today is—”

“Yeah. It’s Papa’s birthday,” said Eibhlin, dropping her voice. “But don’t remind anyone. They’ll want to stop working to celebrate, and what kind of gift would that be to that man?”

The two finished their lunch in silence, but as Eibhlin prepared to leave, Leana said, “Your father is lucky to have a daughter like you.”

Eibhlin blushed. “No, he isn’t. Not at all!”

“No, Eve, he is,” said Leana. “Between you and your mother, he’s been very lucky…. Listen, Eibhlin, don’t be too generous with your father, and if you need help, please let us know. Any time.”

The blush grew. “I understand,” said Eibhlin as she made her way to the hills.

When she crossed her own threshold, Eibhlin slumped against the door, letting herself slide to the floor.

“She’s a good daughter.” “Your father is lucky.”

A scoff slipped from her throat.

She looked around the room, a list sounding off in her head like parts of a creed. In one wall sat the fireplace, its stones black with soot and pit full of ash. And nearby stood the splinter-topped table, a single chair beside it. Another chair lay against the wall by the fireplace, one leg stacked with the wood. The sheet nailed across the shutter-less window flew loose from a gust of wind. A whistle snuck between cracks in the old roof, and dust sat everywhere. The chickens ran defenseless, the coop door gone, and two hens lost last week. Weeds overgrew the garden. The list ever lengthened. Eibhlin forced herself up. She hurried from task to task, thinking how her father would return soon. This time. This time, he would come back.