Helen Glenkerry shook her hair back, scooping it up into a ponytail and fastening it with a lace from her sandal lying on the bank. The water in the burn was icy cold and crystal clear. Rolling her white cotton trouser legs up, she pushed some pebbles along the sandy bottom with her toes as the grasses caressed her feet. Closing her eyes and breathing the cool clear air deeply, she knew she would love living here. The horse stood like a statue as James Mcklinross watched the girl. What was she doing here and where had she come from? There was danger here; she would have to go. He walked his horse to the edge of the burn. As she turned and saw him, he blinked; he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. His voice sounded stern: ‘Where do you think you are going and where have you come from? Don’t you know you are trespassing?’