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"Now hold still, Mr. Hycomb." Beth sighed, trying to press the rag to the older man's head. He had a horseback accident and smacked his head on a rock. The gash was nasty, and Beth wanted to get a head start on cleaning the wound before allowing Claire to stitch him up.

"Mistress Montgomery, please, I am fine." Thome Hycomb tried bobbing and weaving away from the girl's hand. The pressure was causing the wound to sting, and the sensation was bothering him. "Mr. Hycomb," Beth groaned, now reaching up to grab hold of the opposite side of his head to keep him in place. "If you were fine you wouldn't have come to see Mistress Fraser."

Thome then settled, his body remaining still so Beth could clean the wound and the skin around it. Claire walked in and thanked Beth for cleaning and prepping Mr. Hycomb before she set to work, stitching the wound closed.

Beth wiped her hands clean, grabbing a few more towels and rags before walking back outside and over to the laundry bucket. She scrubbed the towels and rags and went to hang them up, peering over to her right. She noticed Jamie speaking with Roger, Ian and Brianna – but being as nosey as she was, she stood her ground and didn't travel over to see what they were discussing.

She figured Jamie was sending Ian and Roger off somewhere. Ian jumped onto his horse with ease, Roger soon following on his own.

For the rest of the day, Beth busied herself around the house. She was doing what she could so that Jamie and Claire didn't have to. They were providing a roof for her to sleep under and she was eternally grateful.

As she lifted her skirts and moved back to the laundry that was swaying with the wind, Beth started singing gently under her breath. She found herself singing "Oh My Darling Clementine" more often than none. Roger sang it to Jeremiah, as did Brianna. Taking down the towels, rags, blankets and clothing, Beth folded everything before placing it into the basket. She wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings. The sun was strong and high up in the sky, very little clouds were present to provide any sort of shade.

"Oh my darling, oh my darling. Oh my darling, Clementine. You were lost and gone forever, dreadful sorrow, Clementine." Beth continued switching back and forth between singing the words and humming the tone, fighting with the large blanket in her arms as she tried to fold it.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Beth let out a yelp, clutching the blanket to her chest, though most of it fell to the ground. She turned to look in the direction the voice had come from.

Standing before her was a tall man with dark hair. She hadn't seen him before, but there was something familiar about his features.

"I'm sorry I frightened you." The man said, a smile appearing on his lips as he took another step closer. "Francis Hycomb." Introducing himself as he reached forward, holding his hand out to Beth to shake.

Beth stood still for a moment, eyeing his hand before reaching out and slipping her hand into his. "Beth Montgomery." She bowed her head as she spoke, quickly pulling her hand from his. "Any relation to Thome?"

"Yes, he's my Da." Francis explained, the smile never leaving his lips. "I've come to see how he's doing. Mr. Fraser told me that he hit his head while on his horse."

Beth cleared her throat, moving to finish folding the blanket. "Yes, he's a big baby that one." She let out a soft laugh, looking back up at Francis. "I was able to clean the wound, though it's pretty gnarly looking. Claire should be finishing up with him now. He needed to get stitches."

Beth felt a sense of dread as Francis loomed over her. "Yes, my Da can be quite dramatic." Francis smirked, his hands twitching slightly as he eyed Beth lean over to pick up the basket. Unlike Ian, who was the definition of a gentleman, Francis stood still, letting his eyes roam over her backside as she was leaned over to pick up the bucket.

Beth felt her blood run cold. She stood back up, balancing the basket on her hip. She glanced over to Francis, "Follow me. I'll bring you to your father. He should still be in Mistress Fraser's surgery." Beth turned around and made haste back towards the house. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something just did not sit right with her about this man.

She soon realized that she wasn't the only one who felt that way. Roger and Ian had returned and were both eyeing Francis up as he followed closely behind Beth – his eyes still roaming around her body. Neither of them heard the conversation between Beth and Francis. They were unaware of who he was and why he was walking so close to and with a leering gaze upon Beth.

"Aye, lad, can we help you?" Roger spoke up first, shifting his weight around as if to show that he had a gun holstered on his waist.

Ian remained silent, eyeing Francis suspiciously before glancing to Beth as if to check and see if she was ok.

"Aye," Francis glanced between the men before looking back at Beth.

Beth spoke before Francis could introduce himself. "This is Francis Hycomb. Thome Hycomb's son." She said bluntly, nodding towards the door that led to Claire's surgery. "Your father should be in there." She told Francis, watching him nod to Roger and then to Ian before starting towards the door.

"It was a pleasure hearing your beautiful singing voice today, Mistress Montgomery." And with that, he opened the door and entered the surgery to gather his father.

Beth let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "It's not just me that gets the weird feeling about that man, huh?" She looked over to Roger, silently thanking him for saying something.

"I didn't know you could sing."

Beth then turned to Ian, who had just spoken up. She giggled before shaking her head, "Well, Young Ian," She began, a smile forming on her lips. "You don't know me all that well now, do you?" With that, she continued her way into the main house with the basket of laundry.

Roger let out a laugh once the front door was shut. His voice was still hoarse, and his throat was irritated beyond belief, but he couldn't help himself and laughed.

"Smooth."