A Highlander in a Pickup

by Laura Trentham

  “How so?” he asked.

  His interest, no matter how mild, galvanized Anna. “Her dancing became emotive. A safe way for her to experience love and grief. I guess that sounds silly to you, but—”

  “No.” He let out a long exhale and looked toward the mural. “I feel the same way in church when the organ plays and I sing the old hymns Margie loved. Makes me feel close to her and less sad. I’ve hoped Gabby would find the same peace through church.”

  “I understand. I truly hope she does.”

  He scratched the gray stubble along his jaw. “Let me think on what you said.”

  She would take it as a win. “Have a good day, Mr. Donaldson.”

  He touched the frayed brim of his ball cap with a John Deere emblem on the front and continued down the sidewalk, disappearing into the hardware store. She wasn’t sure she had made a difference, but she was satisfied she’d done all she could do for now.

  A truck with an animal trailer attached rumbled to a stop next to her. Holt rolled down the window and hollered her name.

  She hopped off the curb and poked her head through the passenger window. The AC was refreshing. “What’s up?”

  “I was headed out to Stonehaven to drop off Mom’s goats. Best if they have a chance to get acclimated. Is Iain out at the house?” Holt’s blue jeans were broken-in and dirty, and his black T-shirt had a tear at a shoulder seam. The Highland motto on the pocket was peeling off. His ball cap was sweat-stained, and his stubble was veering into a beard. He looked exhausted.

  “As far as I know, he is.” When the window was halfway up, Anna rapped on it, and Holt let it back down, pushing the brim of his hat up. “How about I grab a couple of to-go plates from the Highland Lass and bring them out for you two?”

  “That would be great, actually. I haven’t had a chance to sit all day, much less eat.” Holt shot her a smile, but it only emphasized how grim he’d been before.

  Not only did she get three to-go plates of the fried chicken special from the Highland Lass, but an entire pecan pie. After stopping for a six-pack of beer, she made her way to Stonehaven, wishing she’d had time for a shower.

  This would be the first time she and Iain saw each other after the weirdness of their morning-after parting. In keeping with her level up in maturity for the day, she promised herself to handle the moment with grace, no matter what happened. After all, they still had the festival to get through.

  By the time she reached Stonehaven, the trailer on the back of Holt’s truck was empty and the sounds of animals from the barn was louder. Two pairs of dirt-caked boots graced the stoop. Juggling the to-go boxes, pie, and beer, she rang the doorbell with her elbow.

  Footsteps sounded on the other side, and she froze with a smile on her face, determined to look unaffected. The door swung open and revealed Iain. His sweat-splotched T-shirt clung to him and his kilt was one of his durable gray utility versions.

  She swallowed but kept the smile mostly intact.

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look funny.”

  “Not ‘funny’ ha-ha, I assume.” Her cheek muscles felt sore, and she let her smile drop. How crazed had she looked? “Nothing happened. It’s just … you. And me. And stuff.”

  He took the pie off the top of the boxes and the six-pack from her hand. “I should have called you or texted you today. I apologize. I wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was.”

  “It’s fine.” Was it really? She didn’t want to play the polite Southerner with Iain. “Actually, I felt like you were trying to escape this morning, and I have no idea where I stand with you. Do you want to forget last night ever happened?”

  She took a deep breath, the burden of the day somewhat relieved, even though waiting for his answer was its own torture.

  He huffed something resembling a laugh, but his expression veered rueful. “Usually, it’s the woman who can’t get away fast enough from me the morning after. I’m sorry. I will never forget it happened, and I hope it might happen again this evening?” His voice lilted up.

  The man was so adorably charming, she was lost. “If I were a Magic 8-Ball, I’d say your chances are favorable.” She stood on tiptoe to press a chaste kiss on his cheek and scooted around him.

  She set the to-go boxes on the table where Holt sprawled in a chair, his head resting on the back. His eyes fluttered open, and Anna noted the dark circles underneath.

  “What’s going on, Holt?” Anna set one of the plates in front of him.

  “Same old, same old.” Holt heaved himself up and popped the lid off. “Smells amazing.”

  Iain doled out a beer for each of them, and they dug in, the conversation meandering around festival goings-on.

  “Are you ready for the Laird of the Games competitions?” Anna asked Holt.

  “I haven’t had as much time to practice this year—Dad is slowing down—but working the farm keeps me in decent shape. I suppose I’ll do okay.” Holt used his biscuit to sop up the pot liquor from the greens and didn’t look up.

  “Is the farm doing well?” Anna asked.

  “Well enough, I suppose.”

  “Then what’s wrong?” Anna pushed her plate away and crossed her arms on the table.

  Holt finally looked up, but his gaze skated toward the window and the field beyond. The mowers were coming soon to clear the wildflowers and grass away. “Why would you think something is wrong?”

  “You’re usually Mr. Optimistic. Lately, you’ve been downright mopey.”

  Holt let out a groan. “It’s nothing. I mean, it’s crazy. It’s what I planned to do anyway. I don’t know why I’m freaking out about it.”

  “Freaking out about what?” Anna asked.

  “Dad is ready to retire and hand the farm over to me. He wants to take Mom on an extended RV trip this fall.”

  Even in high school, everyone had known Holt was going into the family business. He’d been president of the Future Farmers of America club three years running. “And you don’t want to anymore?”

  “No. I do. I think. I expected to be more settled by now. Happier.” He ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair. “I sound pathetic.”

  “Of course you don’t.” What he sounded was lonely, but Anna wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Family obligations are complicated,” Iain said.

  “You got ’em too?” Holt asked.

  “My da is Cairndow’s groundskeeper, and I’m expected to take over for him. My family has always served the Blackmoors.”

  “That sounds medieval.” Anna didn’t like the connotation of Iain serving anyone, even if they were friends.

  “Is that what you’ll do after the festival? Go back to Cairndow until it’s time to take over?” Holt asked.

  Iain gave a small shake of his head and did his own staring out the window. She wasn’t sure if his head shake was a yes or a no or a maybe. If only answers were as easily plucked out of the field as the flowers.

  Anna cut them all a piece of pecan pie and the conversation veered to less weighty topics, including how Izzy and Alasdair were getting on with baby Annie. By the time they finished, the sun was sending streaks of orange and yellow and pink across the sky. Anna walked Holt to the door while Iain cleaned off the table.

  Holt shot her a half smile as they stepped onto the front porch. “Don’t tell me you’re going to desert us for the real Highlands too?”

  Her heart played her ribs like a xylophone. “What are you talking about?”

  “You and Iain couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. Is he going to drag you back to Scotland like Alasdair did to Izzy?”

  She grabbed Holt’s arm and pulled him around to face her. “I’m not leaving Georgia. I’ve worked hard to build my studio into something I’m proud of.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Iain is ready to cut the cord with Scotland. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  Holt sn
orted. “And here I thought I was the class dunce. Not what; who.”

  “Me?” She squeaked out the word.

  “Lord have mercy.” Holt looked to the heavens. “You’ll figure it out eventually, Einstein.”

  Anna watched him drive away, turning over the possibility. No, the impossibility. Iain wouldn’t stay in Highland. Not for her.

  She backed inside the house and turned around. His outline filled the other end of the hall, steady and stable and sexy as hell. They still had time, and she wouldn’t squander it on questions of staying or leaving, because she already knew the answer.

  She took a step and then another until she was in his arms, winding her hands into his hair and hiking her leg up on his hip. Their kiss was combustible and charred her worries to ash. As soon they hit the mattress upstairs, she went up in flames and didn’t think about anything except the next kiss.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With only two days until the Friday kickoff parade and whisky tasting, Highland was filling up with tourists. Not a parking space was to be had on the street, a line of customers snaked out of the Brown Cow Coffee and Creamery, and dodging families on the sidewalk was a given.

  The Bluegrass Jacobites, with Anna as the guest dancer, were performing at the Dancing Jig pub as the evening’s entertainment. Anna’s body hummed with expectation tinged with nerves. It had been months since she’d danced for an audience. Having Iain there was an added shot of excitement.

  The mowers had sheared the field of flowers and grass, and workers were setting up the vendor stalls and the stage where the pipers and dancers and the band would perform. In five days, the festival would be over. The field would empty, and Iain would return to Scotland.

  Neither of them had mentioned the approaching expiration date, but the seconds were counting down like a doomsday clock. Every moment took on an urgency, from the personal stories they shared, to the sex they had every night after falling into bed. And once in the barn, bent over a sawhorse. And another time on the couch.

  Regular classes at the studio had been canceled for the week to allow the girls competing extra practice time. It also freed Anna up to tackle any last-minute issues. Iain had finished the enclosures and was organizing the barn to handle the influx of tourists who would be wandering through. He was also coordinating the athletic events with Dr. Jameson.

  Anna thought she worked hard, but Iain put her to shame. Even more, he seemed to enjoy the work. When he wasn’t building fences or helping townspeople with odd jobs, he was carving wood for fun. His animals had a cartoon quality that made her smile, and she’d encouraged him to commission with Loretta to sell them at All Things Bright and Beautiful.

  Anna dressed for the performance in the studio, throwing a tartan shawl around her shoulders. She flicked the lock, whipped the front door open, and gasped. Gabby stood with her hand up to knock. They froze for a moment, then Anna pulled Gabby into a hug.

  “How are you feeling?” Anna leaned back and grinned.

  “Bored.” Gabby’s smile was small and disappeared entirely as she tucked her hair behind an ear. “You’re not mad at me?”

  “What? Of course not.” Anna bit her lip. The last thing she’d wanted to do was make Gabby feel any guilt over not dancing. It held shades of Anna’s mother, which made her shudder. “I wanted you to dance for you, not me. I’m sorry if I put pressure on you or made things difficult with your dad.”

  “He told me he ran into you the other day.” A slow smile curled her lips. “I don’t know what you said, but he changed his mind about me dancing.”

  “That’s great!” Anna tempered the excitement in her voice. “As long as it’s what you want.”

  “I want to compete so bad. Is it too late?”

  “It’s not, but even if it were, I happen to know the lady in charge pretty well.” Anna winked, and Gabby giggled like any other teenager. Anna’s heart swelled, and she fought the urge to pull Gabby into another hug. “We need to make sure your costume fits, though. Can you come by in the morning?”

  “I can be here around nine after I finish my chores.”

  “Perfect.” Anna gestured out the door and joined Gabby on the sidewalk after locking up the studio. “I’ve got a performance of my own down at the pub with the Jacobites.”

  “Sounds fun. Wish I could come watch, but the girls are waiting for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gabby waved then skip-ran down the street, disappearing into the Brown Cow. Keisha’s head popped out, and she gave a thumbs-up. Anna returned a crisp salute. With a dad who wanted her to be happy and friends like Keisha at her back, Gabby would be fine. Anna would make sure of it.

  She stepped into the Dancing Jig pub and took a deep breath of whisky-soaked air. Dark wood covered every surface and swallowed the light, leaving the space dim and intimate. The bar was packed with a combination of locals and tourists. The members of the Bluegrass Jacobites, including Iain, were gathered around a table in the back. While Iain wasn’t in the thick of the storytelling, his face creased into a genuine smile that made her heart soar. All of them wore kilts, but Iain wore his best. Granted, she might be a tiny bit biased.

  She weaved through the tables, and Iain looked up, homing in on her in the crowd as if she emitted a signal only for his internal antennae. She smiled. He didn’t return it, but stood and circled around the table to meet her halfway.

  Without thought to anyone who might see, he folded her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. While he’d been a huge help with the animals and vendors, his ability to stay calm was his superpower. She was a bird come home to roost, and her stress melted away.

  “Everything good?” he asked.

  She would tell him about Gabby later. “More than good. You?”

  He made a chesty sound she had learned to take as an agreement and led her over to the table, where Robert gave her a subtle thumbs-up.

  The bartender hopped on stage and introduced her and the band. After the players were settled, the Jacobites warmed the crowd up with a couple of rousing drinking songs. Iain’s concentration was inward on the music and his part to play, so she was free to study him.

  While not traditionally handsome with his aggressively masculine features, strong brow, and scar, he attracted her like no other man. His spirit was solid. Izzy had said he was a sticker, and Anna was beginning to understand what that meant. She could lean on him, and he wouldn’t crumple. She could count on him.

  To a point. She couldn’t let herself forget he was leaving.

  The song ended, and Robert gestured toward her, announcing her to the crowd. She took a deep breath and stepped into the same zone Iain had entered. The space on the floor was limited, but she laid her heart and soul out for the crowd during the performance. As the last strains of music faded, silence filled the space before clapping and whistles erupted.

  Anna took a deep curtsey before performing her second dance number with the band, then she took a seat and sipped on lemon water, enjoying the rest of the set from the Jacobites. Burn’s classic “Auld Lang Syne” wrapped up the entertainment, and the bar patrons sang along, arms thrown around shoulders and voices raised enthusiastically if a little off-key.

  Another half hour of socializing followed. Anna considered it a warm-up for the hand-shaking and baby-kissing of her campaign for mayor. Finally, though, she grabbed Iain’s hand and pulled him toward the exit.

  “Where are we headed?” he asked.

  “My place is closer.”

  He raised his eyebrow, but his pace quickened. Anna unlocked the door to her apartment, and Iain ducked his head to enter. He filled the room to bursting. With her body still humming from the performance, she threw herself at him—literally. He caught her to him, his hands cupping her bottom. She twined her arms around his neck and her legs clamped his hips.

  “Take me to bed, Highlander.” She smoothed a hand over his cheek and beard and smiled. He didn’t smile back. Without closing her eyes, she kissed him, a simple brush of her lips.
The moment was sharp with an intimacy unfamiliar to Anna.

  He moved toward her bed, bumping his head on the top of the doorframe and scraping her back along the side. Finally, they collapsed side by side on her mattress. The creak of her bed frame did not bode well for the activities Anna had planned. Laughter burst the serious mood.

  “I’m not sure my place is going to survive the fallout of what I want to do to you. It might end up a pile of rubble.” She pushed him to his back and straddled his hips, leaning over him, her hair a curtain around his face.

  “Isn’t that how everything eventually ends?” The question twisted with meaning beyond the physical.

  She hung still above him, not sure what to do or say in response. As the moment veered awkward, a pounding came from the door.

  “Anna? Are you there? Please!” It was Loretta’s voice, but imbued with an unfamiliar tremor.

  Anna scrambled off Iain and skip-ran to the door. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Loretta’s panic transferred to Anna with a shot of adrenaline. “A leak from the sink in the bathroom. My inventory. The floors. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  She didn’t need to say any more. Any business owner lived in fear of water and fire. Acts of God weren’t welcome unless they involved a plague of customers with full wallets. Any loss would hit especially hard right before the Highland games.

  Iain had come up behind Anna. “Let’s go.”

  Loretta led the way into the back of All Things Bright and Beautiful. Iain strode to the bathroom to stem the leak. Anna stacked boxes out of the way of the creeping water. Loretta watched the destruction as if she had already given up.

  “Do you have any quilts or towels?”

  “Yes. Yes, I think so.” Still, Loretta watched the rivulets of water snake closer to her inventory. Her face was drawn in deep lines of worry and shock. She wasn’t the formidable opponent Anna dreaded crossing swords with but a neighbor in need.

  Anna took Loretta’s shoulders, squeezed, and turned her toward the store floor. “Go get them while Iain works on the leak. I’ll move your inventory out of harm’s way.”