Sparks in Scotland

by A. Destiny

  “Mom, I’m going over there to draw,” I said as I pointed to a particularly lovely area where there was an abandoned castle in the near distance.

  “Be careful,” she said as she brushed a kiss across my brow.

  I took a stiff step toward Graham, tempted to ask him to come along with me, but he was talking to the German family now, who peppered him with questions in stilted English. I didn’t want to bother him when he was working, so I stepped into the grass and made my way over.

  The air in this area was so fresh, unlike anything I’d ever smelled. It was pure, untainted, clean. I dragged several deep lungfuls in and smiled. Stretched my arms in glee.

  Scotland was amazing.

  I plopped down and grabbed my camera from my backpack. Corinne would die of jealousy when she saw my travel pictures. If these shots of the castle and hills didn’t evoke the feel of Scotland and its rich history, nothing would. I focused in on the castle and snapped more shots. Vines and trees wove through holes and windows in the moss-covered stone.

  How long had this place been abandoned? What was its history—who had lived here and then left? Maybe I should ask ­Graham later if he knew.

  The sketch bug was itching at me again. I took out my notebook, flipped to a clean page, and began to draw. The only sounds were the light conversations of the fellow members of my group in the distance and the breezes floating by, rustling my hair and the leaves in the trees. Perfect serenity.

  “That’s a great rendering of the castle,” a voice said from behind me.

  My mouth curled into a smile before I even spun around and saw Graham standing there. “Thanks. I couldn’t resist getting a few sketches of it while we took our break.”

  He sat down in the grass beside me and craned his neck to eye my sketches. Normally I wasn’t that self-conscious about my art—I didn’t need to be perfect, and I enjoyed the messiness of drafting—but I found myself eager for his approval and good opinion.

  “Keep drawin’,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt ya. We still have some time.”

  I kept my hand steady as I went back to roughing out the ­castle. “So do you know anything about its history?” I asked to help distract me from his magnetic presence. “Does it have a name? How old is it?”

  “Not sure,” he said, and the light burr of his voice, so close to my ear, sent little shivers down my spine. “Let’s make it up.”

  I drew a thick black shadow within one of the windows. “Okay, I’ll start. Um . . .” I dropped my pencil and studied the actual castle form, the age of the brick. “I think it’s from the 1600s, so it’s really old. The land all around here belonged to the owner of the castle, who was a great lord.”

  “Laird.” He gave me a crooked grin. “That’s what we’d call him.”

  “Laird, got it.” I nodded and returned his smile. The sun glinted in his hair, and I had to fight the urge to touch it and see if it was as soft as it looked. “Um.” I cleared my throat and felt my stupid cheeks start to burn. “The laird was a great warrior, and he built this castle for his bride.”

  His eyes flickered as he studied me. “Musta loved her a lot,” he said quietly. “To give her such a place to live. She was probably a foreigner, from . . . France. He’d gone there on official clan business and came back with a bride.”

  “Love at first sight,” I managed to say. My heart was thudding hard now. I could smell the warm, compelling scent of his soap, and it was super hard not to lean forward and breathe him in.

  “Clacher Castle,” he said. “That’s its name. And he was Laird Clacher.”

  “So why did they leave?”

  He paused and thought for a moment, and a brisk breeze whipped through and slipped under the neckline of my fleece. I shivered. “Are ya chilled?” he asked.

  “No, no, I’m fine.” I gave a reassuring smile.

  “Time to go, son!” Steaphan hollered from the bus, his voice echoing across the hills.

  Great timing. My mouth twisted in a wry grin as I packed up my pencils, notebook, and camera. Graham jumped up and offered me his hand, then pulled me to my feet. His fingers were warm, and he held my hand for a moment longer than was needed.

  “Um.” Now his cheeks tinted a slight pink, and my pulse stuttered. “We should get goin’. Don’t want my da to leave us behind.”

  “Yeah, that castle probably doesn’t have electricity or running water,” I teased.

  We walked toward the bus, and in a tone so quiet I almost didn’t hear, Graham said, “She left.”

  “Sorry?” I turned to him and saw that his eyes reflected a bit of sadness.

  “The castle. After a few years, his homesick bride left him to return to France, and he got tired of living there alone. That’s why it was abandoned.” With a polite nod, Graham waved me onto the bus, and I took reluctant steps toward my seat and sat back down.

  My stomach was a tight knot as I chewed over what he’d said. Those words had sounded far too personal to be just made up. Was he trying to tell me something? Could this be about me . . . or had there been a personal wound in his life that he’d allowed me to glimpse?

  I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know more about him. Everything about him. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I knew it was a dumb idea to let myself start falling for him . . . but the heart wanted what the heart wanted.

  Mine wanted to be around him.

  The bus pulled back onto the street toward Oban, and I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. I still had another week here, and I was determined to enjoy it to its very end. Yes, I was going to be leaving, but I’d deal with that when the time came. In the meantime, I was going to just let this be what it was and see where it led. Have fun hanging out with Graham and relishing this chemistry between us instead of being afraid of it.

  And hope against hope I could leave Scotland with my heart intact.

  ChapterNine

  We’re here!” Steaphan declared as he rolled the bus to the front of a huge, gorgeous bed-and-breakfast right on the waterfront. The walls were thick gray stones that gave the building an old, solid feel. The windows were long and numerous and found on every floor. The brilliant sun sparkled along everything in sight, making the waterfront bright and glittery. The sidewalk to the B and B’s front door was sprinkled on both sides with rich-toned flowers in every color and a closely trimmed lawn.

  I bounced in my seat and laughed at myself when I saw the two kids doing the same. This place was to be our home for the next couple of nights—and it was stunning. I could hardly wait to go inside.

  “This is MacKensie House,” Dad explained as he leaned over toward me. He took out a folded piece of paper. “It got great reviews online as one of the best bed-and-breakfasts in Oban.”

  Mom gathered her bag, and she and Dad stood to stretch their backs. We all filed off the bus.

  “Tonight is a free night, so feel free to explore Oban on your own,” Steaphan told our group. “Let’s check in first and get settled. Remember, our expedition’s leavin’ tomorrow at nine, so be ready.”

  After the parents checked us in at the front desk, manned by a slender old man wearing a wool cap, we took our suitcases to our rooms. When Dad opened the door and I peeked inside, I paused.

  “Where’s the other bed?” There was only one in the room.

  Dad turned to me with a grin. “The adjoining room has a sleeper sofa. You’ll have your own space for the next couple of nights. But don’t get used to it, princess. You just lucked out this time.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes and stepped in. The room had yellow wallpaper with tiny rows of flowers, and there was a private bathroom, which made me happy—I’d heard some of these places had group facilities. My room had a large purple sofa, which Dad helped me pull out, and we put the nearby folded pile of sheets and blankets on it to make my bed.

  I
grabbed a couple of days’ worth of clothes and placed them into the bedside table. “Okay, I’m done,” I declared as I headed back to their room. “Can we go walking around?” I was eager to explore this cute little harbor town.

  Mom glanced at her watch. “Sure, we have time before dinner. We’re eating with Steaphan and Graham in this wonderful seafood place that came highly recommended.”

  Well, that was a pleasant surprise. I had already planned to ask them if I could hang out with Graham tonight, so this made it easier.

  She raised her eyebrow. “I assume you’re okay with this arrangement.”

  I managed an even nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Dad checked the time on his cell phone. “Okay, I’ll meet you guys at six in front of the restaurant.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “There’s a tour in an hour I signed up for to explore a scotch distillery. I figured you two wouldn’t be that interested in it.”

  I laughed. “No, I’m perfectly happy to stroll and shop instead.”

  Mom and I walked through the narrow blue-wallpapered hallway down the steep stairs and stopped to look at the lobby once more. There was a golden floral print on the walls, and the arches above the halls and doorways were ornately carved and painted white. The whole place was quaint and cute.

  “Okay, missy,” she said when we stepped outside. The strong scent of seawater hit us, and the air was slightly cooler. “Where to?”

  I shrugged and looked both ways down the street. We were smack-dab on the harbor front, and our street was lined with other bed-and-breakfasts, businesses, and stately homes. A stunning view. “Maybe toward the center of town, that way?” I pointed to the right.

  We walked along the coastline, and I saw boats lazily drift on the water.

  “So did you have fun hanging out with Mollie?” I asked Mom.

  She beamed. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this good of a time. It was like we’d only been apart a few days, not years and years.”

  “With a friendship like yours, I’m not surprised.” I’d heard Mom talk about Mollie on and off since I was a little kid. They exchanged holiday cards, talked on the phone a few times a year, and stayed in regular contact. “I think Corinne and I will be like that too. Even when we graduate and go to college, we’ll still be best friends.”

  She ruffled my hair. “I’m sure you will. You two have a real connection. How’s she doing, by the way?”

  I filled her in on what the art program had involved so far and how Corinne had been chosen to enter the prestigious contest. “So needless to say, you can imagine Corinne is a bit stressed about it.”

  “Yeah, she does have some . . . control issues,” Mom teased with a wink. “Well, I’m sure it’ll go fine. And that boy she’s working with might help her loosen up a bit. Sounds like he’s her total opposite. Could be good for her.”

  More than one night, Mom had seen Corinne at our house, curled up on the couch, her face lined with stress over all the stuff she had to get done.

  “I think she likes this guy,” I told her. “And she doesn’t know how to handle it. Corinne’s never really had time for guys before, and it’s freaking her out a bit.”

  “I’m sure she’ll find her way,” Mom said sagely. “We all take different paths to get to the place that makes us happiest. She’s a smart girl. She’ll figure out how to deal with her emotions.”

  She turned to me, and the sunshine beamed down on her skin and hair. Huh, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Mom so relaxed and simply . . . happy. Guess we all needed this vacation more than we’d realized.

  “Are you enjoying Scotland so far, honey?”

  I reached an arm around her and squeezed her side. “It’s amazing. I’m loving it.”

  We strolled in silence for a few minutes and eyed the quaint rows of houses and businesses tucked among the clusters of vibrant green trees. When we turned a corner and I looked up the hillside where Oban was nestled into, I gasped.

  “Wow, what is that?” I nodded my head at the massive coliseum built into the top of the hill, overlooking all of Oban.

  “Isn’t that amazing?” She dug into her pocket and produced a piece of paper with tourist highlights—I’d bet a dollar Dad had printed that out for her. The thought made me grin. “According to this, that’s McCaig’s Tower. It was built in the 1800s. Let’s walk up there and see it.” The paper rippled and whipped in the breeze as she folded it back up and put it away.

  We wove through the bustling streets, the smell of salt water and fish and food and greenery thick and heavy in the cooler ­harbor air. By the time we reached the top, I was a bit winded. The sight itself took the rest of my breath away.

  It was a large circle of stone arches, and inside was a well-­maintained garden. We stepped in and paused to gather our breaths and take in the view. There were a few people milling around inside, but it was quiet and peaceful up here.

  I spun around in a circle to take it all in, then peered toward the harbor, and the panoramic view from up here was riveting. I could see for miles and miles, the countryside, the waterfront, the town below. “I should have brought my camera,” I groaned. Still, I dug out my phone and took a few pictures with it.

  Mom leaned in toward me, and I took some shots of us in there. When she pulled back, she smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You like him a lot, don’t you?” she said quietly. “I’ve watched you guys together, and I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen you like this.”

  I nodded and gave a heavy sigh. We wandered the circumference of the tower. “Yeah, but he’s kind of driving me crazy. One minute it seems like he likes me a lot. The next, he’s keeping me at arm’s length.”

  “Maybe because you two live so far apart,” she mused. “Though I have to say, that’s normal for guys.” Her eyes danced. “Your father did the same to me when we first started talking. I actually thought he liked one of my friends for the longest time, so it shocked me when he asked me out.”

  “I’m glad it worked out between you two,” I said drolly, “or else I wouldn’t be here right now, enjoying the scenery.”

  She chuckled and bumped my shoulder. “Very funny. But seriously, I want you to be careful. I’m not sure how smart it is to fall in love with a guy who lives so far away. It’s one thing if it’s just a fun crush, but another when your heart gets involved.”

  “You and Mollie stayed in touch,” I pointed out. “And like you said, it was like you guys hadn’t been apart that long.”

  “Friendship is different. Relationships come with their own pressure. I just . . . don’t want to see you get hurt.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead and moved off toward the center of the gardens.

  I stuck around the edges and absorbed her words. I knew what her concern was—after David had dumped me, I’d holed up in my room crying for days. It had hurt so badly, because I’d seen it coming and could do nothing to stop it.

  David was charming, handsome. Around school he’d started paying me more and more attention, and I hadn’t been able to believe it at first. But then when I’d accepted it was real, or so I’d thought, I let all my walls down and opened up to him.

  Which was fine at first, until out of nowhere he started pulling away. Not returning all of my calls, then not returning any of them. Not seeking me out between classes in school, then avoiding me altogether. Only wanting to hang out when it was convenient for him, then not seeing me at all.

  When he’d finally broken up with me, the truth had been clear—I’d liked him far more than he’d liked me.

  I sighed and turned to face the water again, giving myself time to tuck that flash of pain back into the recesses of my chest. It didn’t hurt because I still liked him. No, I’d gotten over that and moved on. The pain was because I’d fooled myself into thinking we’d felt the same way. I’d
vowed not to do that. I wouldn’t put everything on the line unless someone was willing to do the same. The guy I dated next would have to put in as much effort as I did.

  I’d been too embarrassed to tell anyone why we’d broken up, my pride singed, my heart too raw. But Graham was starting to crack my heart open with his humor and intelligence and smiles, and I couldn’t help but like him. Despite my hesitations.

  All I could do was hope that when this week was over, I could walk away happy we’d had this time together. Not crying because I wanted more.

  * * *

  “Dinner was perfect,” I said as I pushed my plate away. I rubbed my full belly. “That fish was unbelievable.” I’d devoured the halibut, flaky and seasoned with a tangy rub, not realizing how hungry I’d been until I’d started eating it. The potatoes and fresh vegetables had been the perfect complements.

  Graham smiled. “Mine was too.” He’d gotten scallops drizzled in a cream sauce and had eaten almost as fast as I had.

  Our parents were talking, and had been since we’d arrived for dinner. The whole time, Graham and I had exchanged shy glances across the long table. There was definitely something between us; several times I could feel his gaze on me and would look up to meet his eyes.

  I peered out the large windows to the harbor front; the sun washed over the sky in dark pinks, purples, and blues. As I dropped my fidgeting fingers into my lap, I was filled with a sudden urge to breathe in the early evening air.

  I cleared my throat and faced Graham again. His blue eyes were locked on me, his mouth curved in a slight smile. “Wanna go walk a bit?” I asked him.

  His shrug was casual. “Sure, sounds fine.” Despite the easygoing nature of his words and gesture, I could see a spark of interest in his gaze.

  “Dad,” I whispered once there was a small lull in their conversation. “Can Graham and I walk around on the waterfront? We’ll stay on this street.”

  He narrowed his eyes a fraction, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.