Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders

by St. Clair, Ellie

  He had to clear his throat a couple of times. “Victoria? That might not be the best ploy if you were caught in such a position. Now, use your heel to kick back into my shin.”

  He walked her through the movements, then they went through them again, faster the next time.

  Callum demonstrated a few more defensive movements before pulling the firearm out of his waistband.

  “I’ve brought this for you. You need to carry this and learn how to use it.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Thank you, Callum, but I’d really rather not,” she replied.

  “I understand, but for now, until we know the danger is passed? And you cannot carry it unless you have the proper knowledge or you will end up shooting yourself.”

  She eyed him warily. “Fine, I’ll try it.”

  He slipped behind her, placing the gun in her hands and his arms around hers, showing her where to place her fingers. He tried to be gentle, for he could sense her anxiety about the firearm in her hands. He showed her how to load the gun, aim it, and pull the trigger. She practiced a few times without actually shooting anything.

  He finally lined up some tin cans on the fence and had her try to hit the targets.

  The first shot went so far wide that Callum was worried for people within the next building. The second hit the ground before the targets, and the third clipped one of the elm branches.

  But the fourth winged off one of the cans, which Callum considered a success for the day.

  “Now, keep that in a safe place, but with you whenever you go somewhere alone,” he instructed, then added, “although I’d prefer ye not be wandering by yourself.”

  “I shall try to remember,” she said with a smile.

  He framed her face in his hands. “Please be careful, Victoria.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips and then left her in the yard before he spilled his heart out toward her.

  * * *

  Although she was not scheduled to do so, Victoria offered to help Sarah in the doctor’s office the next day. It would provide an activity to keep her hands and mind busy as she determined how to help Callum find Gregor while ignoring, if not ridding herself of all that she felt for him. He certainly wasn’t making it easy with his quick kisses and his physical closeness.

  He was causing quite the battle within Victoria. She had never wanted to be married, but now that she had finally found someone who she not only wouldn’t dread spending her life with, but who she might actually look forward to being with every day, her head and her heart were conflicted.

  She had finished re-reading Pride and Prejudice and now reflected that maybe she had been too hard on Elizabeth and Jane Bennett and their pursuits of the ideal husbands. What it really came down to was finding one’s own Mr. Darcy — a man who was not perfect, but perfect for her.

  She only wished she had a better sense of Callum’s own feelings. Perhaps she was just a distraction for the short time he was here. After all, he’d said he would not be taking an English wife back to Scotland. Or maybe he didn’t want a wife at all. What was certain was that she couldn’t pour her heart out to him if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings — she would simply look the desperate fool.

  At the clinic that morning, they first saw a farmer with a broken foot who had been in the wrong place when his cattle came in for dinner. Dr. Hampton set it with his usual patient, easy manner. Next was a young boy with a cough, who was prescribed rest. Last came one of the wheat buyers, who simply had a case of too much rum.

  While Victoria found the work rewarding, she wasn’t sure it was her vocation in life, as it was for Sarah. Once she and Sarah had set up the room, Sarah would fetch Dr. Hampton, who would confirm or prepare a new diagnosis. Victoria always made sure she presented the facts to him in a straightforward, accurate manner.

  Sarah sighed regretfully. “You and Dr. Hampton would have made as wonderful a team, just as Albert and I did. Are you sure…” At Victoria’s raised eyebrows and pointed stare, Sarah held up her hands. “You’re right. This is your life, not a repeat of mine.”

  Before they could continue the conversation, however, the clinic door burst open and the object of Victoria’s affections strode through. Callum’s presence caught everyone’s notice — he had that way about him. Their attentions, however, soon turned to the woman who hung over his shoulder.

  “Betty?” Sarah ran to her friend.

  “What happened?” asked Victoria, as Dr. Hampton emerged from the back room at the commotion and gestured for Callum to take Mrs. Johnson into the examining room.

  “I came downstairs for breakfast and she was lying on the floor,” said Callum. “Perhaps she fainted?”

  “Fainted!” exclaimed Sarah. “She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

  “She has a fever,” said Dr. Hampton. “Do you know where her husband is?”

  “Probably at the diner,” said Callum with a shrug.

  “That’s a nice way of putting it,” remarked Sarah as Callum went off to collect him.

  While Callum was gone, Sarah and Victoria set about making Mrs. Johnson as comfortable as they could, and then Dr. Hampton began carefully examining her.

  Before too long, Callum returned, a confused and apprehensive Mr. Johnson in tow. The two of them stayed out of the way, but Mr. Johnson paced back and forth near the door.

  Suddenly Mrs. Johnson woke up and started to cough. “What in the heavens…” Her voice was weak, and her words faded as her confused glance darted about the room.

  “You fainted,” said Dr. Hampton. “I think you may be coming down with something. How have you felt lately?”

  “Tired, but that’s not unusual,” she said in a hoarse voice.

  “Well, you need to take care of yourself. I think you’re overdoing it. Perhaps Mr. Johnson should take on some of your duties around the boarding house.”

  That certainly captured Mr. Johnson’s attention.

  “Do you hear that?” Mrs. Johnson said with a weak smile. “You may actually have to work, Tom. Good heavens, whatever shall we do? We may lose all our boarders within a week.”

  “Have no fear, Mrs. Johnson, we’ll all understand,” said Callum with a smile.

  “Well, you’re a dear,” she said. “As for the others, well, we’re lucky there really isn’t anywhere else for them to go.” She managed a weak laugh.

  Dr. Hampton asked them all to leave as he continued his treatment. Victoria shut the door behind them as she ushered them out.

  “I had better go,” said Callum, drawing near. “I’ll be back to check on her, though. Will you be here?”

  “Here or at the house,” said Victoria softly, wishing he would return to see her for more reason than checking on his landlady. “I shall watch for you.”

  They shared a smile as he put on his hat, tipped it at her and opened the door. Something had changed between them, Victoria realized. An… ease existed between them, an understanding that hadn’t been there before. She wasn’t sure what it was or where it had come from, but she liked the feeling. It was one she could get used to.

  She felt as if this day would pass very slowly as she waited for his return.

  * * *

  Callum saddled his horse and took the long route back to the depot, needing the time to assess his thoughts.

  He’d enjoyed watching Victoria work. She had provided the same loving care, with smiles and reassurance, as she had with Archie, although with her patient she was a little more efficient and straightforward. But it was more than her efficient care, he admitted to himself. When she’d bent over Mrs. Johnson, he couldn't help but lean back and appreciate the beauty she was, even in her work attire.

  Her dark hair was gathered low at the nape of her neck, her violet eyes warm and her shapely figure evident. But then he had realized Dr. Hampton — for all his professionalism and concern for his patient — was taking in the same view. The jealousy was rather frightening. He’d never been a particularly possessive man befor
e. Until Victoria.

  The more he tried to push away this attraction for Victoria, the stronger his emotions became. But nothing else had changed. He couldn’t bring her back to Scotland, and ultimately, that was where home was for him, wasn’t it? He was to be the chieftain of his land. That was the destiny that had been laid out for him since childhood.

  He wished it could be different. He liked it here, in the new world, in Qu'Appelle. He enjoyed working with the North-West Mounted Police and with Angus. He didn’t like the reason he was here, but the people and the place were growing on him.

  And then there was Victoria. She had gotten to him. He realized how much so when he had woken up that morning. His first thoughts were about her — when he might see her, or how he could arrange a reason to see her. He wondered what she was doing, and whether or not she was thinking of him in turn.

  One thing was for sure — he had to decide soon. If he was going home, he would have to split it off with her, and quickly, before the attachment continued to grow. Otherwise, it wasn’t fair — to her or to himself.

  23

  The Duke of Lansing stared around him in disgust. This was supposed to be a train station? Dust filled the air, and filling his vision was bare, flat land. The only building he could see was the shed that passed for a train stationhouse. Stagecoaches lined the side of the tracks, waiting to carry passengers to their destinations. A few poorly clad farmers and their wives milled around, searching out faces of family members among the newly arrived. But no one was here waiting for him.

  “Desolate place, isn’t it?”

  Edward Travers III finally appeared beside him, apparently sharing in the duke’s dislike of the plains before them. It had been a long journey with a man he didn’t particularly like, but their common interest and shared goals forced them to rely on one another for the foreseeable future. It had been a silent and stilted journey and he knew they would both be glad to soon be on the return portion of the trek.

  The morning of what was to be the wedding of Victoria Brighton and the Duke of Lansing had been one the attendees would remember for a long time to come. Victoria had retired early the evening before — not surprising considering she had made it very clear to anyone who asked what her thoughts were on the wedding.

  Her maid had advised everyone the next morning that Victoria’s stomach was in knots and she was not ready for breakfast, but that she was preparing herself for the wedding to come. She wanted only her own maid to help her.

  At nine o’clock, an hour before the ceremony was to begin, the same maid timidly stepped into the dining hall. When she looked at the two of them in front of her, all of the color had drained from her cheeks and the duke had known before she had even said the words. Finally, she stammered out the words that Victoria was gone.

  Neither of them could believe it. They rushed upstairs to see that, indeed, Victoria was nowhere to be found. They organized a search, looking everywhere for her, but to no avail.

  The duke was livid when he found out that the maid had slipped away in the commotion.

  Travers had hired an investigator to find Victoria. For weeks, he heard nothing, and finally contacted lawyers about what should happen if Victoria was to be declared dead — would Travers be considered next of kin and receive her funds? The answer was no. John Brighton had stipulated that if Victoria should pass away unmarried and before her twenty-first birthday, the whole of her inheritance would pass to her aunt, John’s sister Sarah.

  Finally, Travers received some good news.

  Crews of all of the ships that had left the area around that day had been interviewed. When the Parisian had returned to Liverpool, bribes to sailors determined that yes, a woman matching Victoria’s description had traveled on the ship, disembarking in Quebec City.

  The duke and Travers had conferred on their next steps. Should they hire someone to find Victoria and bring her back? However, knowing Victoria, they finally determined the only way to truly satisfy themselves of the mission’s success was to go themselves. Both were determined to travel, as neither trusted the other and each of them had so much invested. They booked passage on a ship bound for the Americas the following week. They would be nearly a month behind Victoria, but hoped to catch up with her and track down her eventual destination.

  Then fortune smiled upon the pair.

  Two nights before their departure, the duke was playing cards at his favorite gambling hall. He was losing, and badly.

  “I believe that is all for me,” he said, pushing back his chair. “You’re welcome, gentlemen.”

  “Thank you, Mr.… Say, what was your name again?” asked a newcomer to the hall.

  “The Duke of Lansing,” he replied, looking down his nose at the man, incredulous that he should not know who he was.

  “The Duke of Lansing!” exclaimed the man. “I’ve heard of you before.”

  “Is that so?” replied the duke, an eyebrow raised.

  “Yes, your girl left you, nearly at the altar, ran away to the Americas.”

  One of the regulars elbowed the man, apparently trying to warn him to keep from rousing the duke’s anger.

  “And from whom did you hear this?” the duke asked icily.

  “Well, in a letter from my cousin, Gilbert. He told me all about the girl. She’s living in the prairie town and is friends with his wife. She sounds like quite the beauty but…” The man began to stumble over his words and his friend stared in wonderment as the duke crouched low, his brows knit together and his anger simmering, threatening to boil over. “Umm,” the man stammered, “I-I am sure she’s a handful of trouble. All the men in town have designs on her. You must feel fortunate not to be tied down.”

  “You tell quite the tale,” said the duke. “Come with me please.”

  “With you?”

  “Yes. I have someone I would like you to meet.”

  After some convincing and promise of a satisfying payment for information, the man accompanied the duke to Travers’ home.

  He and Travers had questioned the man to no end. He didn’t have much more information, besides the name of the town — Qu'Appelle. He said a train across the country from the ship’s landing point would take them nearly all the way there.

  “Of course, Victoria would choose the place that required the most difficult path to get there,” grumbled Travers. “It must be where her damn aunt lives. She always refused to tell Maxine exactly where she ended up.”

  And now here they were, in the dust of the Troy station. They had spoken little on the long journey west, over the ocean and the land. They had their eye on Victoria’s fortune, and they wouldn’t let anything keep them from it this time. Not after all they had done to gain it.

  Edward had arranged for a minister to be prepared to meet them in town and marry Victoria and the duke as expediently as possible. He would allow them to have a wedding night, he told the duke, and then back to England they would go — with the inheritance split, as promised, between the two of them. What happened to Victoria, neither of them really cared.

  Yes, this was a costly journey. But it would all be worth it soon.

  * * *

  Callum leaned back in his chair in front of the desk of Angus McLaren, his legs crossed in front of him. Angus’ eyebrows drew together. He was interested, but curious.

  “How could I have missed this? They have been in plain sight for months.”

  “I missed it as well, and I was living with the men. It was Victoria Brighton who caught on.”

  “If she’s right, then the lovely lass seems to have more than just her looks going for her, I’ll say that.”

  “I agree,” said Callum with a smile.

  They were preparing a plan when the door opened.

  “Sergeant McLaren?”

  “Aye?” Angus said to the newly arrived constable.

  “There seems to have been an issue at the train station in Troy. All is cleared up now, but I thought you’d want to be aware.”

 
; “What happened?”

  “Well, a couple of men were in an awful hurry, and when the stagecoach wouldn’t leave on time, as it was waiting for more passengers, the men pulled a gun on the driver. I only just heard this from Sergeant MacDonald from Troy. He sent me the message to relay to you. He caught up to the stagecoach and stopped the men. The driver was frightened, but something more urgent called MacDonald away, so he took the gun and allowed them to continue. However, they’re on their way to Qu'Appelle. They should be arriving in town anytime.”

  “And just who are these men?”

  “They’re Englishmen, sir. They said they would not be in town long, only long enough to find a minister for the one man to be married. Something about a runaway.”

  Callum sat up, suddenly alert to the conversation.

  “Did ye catch their names?”

  “No, but one was a duke. He made that very clear.”

  Callum’s heart hammered. “I must go. I’ll be back to finish this as soon as I can. Good day, gentlemen.”

  With that, Callum jammed his hat on his head and went flying out the door. He ran to his horse, quickly mounting. He sent Ansgar straight into a gallop, intent on reaching Victoria as soon as he could. He had no plan, no thoughts at all as to what he would do when he arrived, but he knew one thing.

  He had to get there first.

  24

  Victoria rubbed her eyes as she threw herself down on her bed after returning to Sarah’s house. It had been a long day, Mrs. Johnson being one of quite a few cases that required a great deal of their attention. Her feet ached, and she longed for a hot bath and a change of clothes.

  She would never admit it to anyone but herself that there were times, now and again, that she missed having a lady’s maid and people to attend to her — like this moment, when she must draw her own bath. She reluctantly rose and shucked off her soiled dress until she was in her chemise.