Kilts and Catnip

by Zoe Tasia

  “I took a chance I might see you on your way to the ceilidh since I was on my way too.”

  “Kinda out of your way,” I noted.

  “Not really. I had to drop off some groceries to Mrs. Thomas. She’s ailing and elderly.”

  “That was very kind and considerate of you.” And convenient. I wondered if he really did deliver anything and if Mrs. Thomas was indeed ill. I don’t know why, but something about him made me nervous. I vowed to give him a chance and not be so judgmental. “Quite a moon we have tonight.” I gestured to the almost filled-in orb hovering low on the horizon.

  Conall frowned as he gazed up. “I prefer the stars myself. The moon feels...moody...dangerous.” He stroked his chin drawing attention to his soon-to-be-a-proper beard. I noticed it was somewhat uneven. I smothered a smile and I wondered if he was aware that there were shavers designed to give a man an even five o’clock shadow or any other length of beard.

  The girls soon outpaced us. A long stretch of uncomfortable silence goaded me into making conversation. Remembering his last words, I asked, “Wished upon the first star you saw tonight?”

  As soon as the church was in view, the girls capered off. “Careful,” I called.

  “Well, if I did, my wish came true.” Conall’s cheeks pinked but he maintained eye contact until I ducked my head and forced a chuckle. The man could be nervous as a thirteen-year-old altar boy and as overly familiar as a randy dog. I wasn’t sure what to make of him.

  Conall opened the door for me. Tate, already arm in arm with another little girl, was chatting up a storm. Now that’s the Tate I know. Kay waved at me from the punch bowl at the opposite end of the room. She tried the punch, then added soda to the bowl. I hoped I could catch her later in the night to talk. She would make me feel less like a cuckoo. Kay wore a brightly colored full skirt and a camisole topped with a bolero. Jess was alone, but I followed her gaze to Gavin, who was bringing two glasses of punch, one for him and one for Jess. Her grin was as bright as the moon.

  An elderly woman dressed as a Queen Elizabeth look-a-like, possibly the birthday girl, called out and waved a lace napkin at Conall.

  He nodded. “I wish I could sit with you, but we have a few tables set aside for the family, so we can be close to my aunt.”

  “Oh, no problem. I’m sure I can find a place to sit.” When he paused, unwilling to leave, I shooed him. “Go on! Your aunt’s looking for you.” As soon as he reached the two tables in the front of the hall, the elderly woman practically tackled him with a tight hug. I heard her shriek of joy from the doorway where I dawdled. I hoped to sit with Kay, but she manned the punch bowl and the tables were filling quickly.

  Tate and Jessie asked if they could sit with their friends, and I nodded with a small smile as I tried not to feel sorry for myself. I watched with amusement as person after person sat at the corner table by the window. Each sat down, rested his or her arms on the table, and then jerked them up when the table tilted. “Guess that’s where I’ll be sitting,” I muttered to myself, dodging groups of happily chattering guests. The pastor stood at the front and cleared his throat. Everyone went still. He said a quick prayer and invited the guests to help themselves to the buffet. I dropped my purse on the table which, of course tipped forward. The small vase in the center wobbled.

  “Here,” a gruff voice said, ducking under the table as I turned. The table leveled when he placed a folded napkin under one of its legs and the very attractive, dark-haired man rose from underneath it.

  “Oh! I mean, hello—I just didn’t expect you here. Not that you shouldn’t be here. I mean, goodness, if anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s me,” I finished lamely.

  “Is this seat taken?” he asked as he placed a hand on the back of one chair.

  “No. I mean I didn’t come alone, my daughters are with me, but they wanted to sit with their friends, and I don’t have any friends here. Yet.” I wanted to beat my head on that ill-mannered table. The more I spoke the stupider I sounded.

  “You go fetch yourself something to eat. I’ll make sure the table is still here when you get back.”

  “Thanks.” But who in the world would want the awful table that tilted by the drafty door? There was a mishmash of dishes to choose from, and it all smelled delicious. I realized I hadn’t been very good about cooking proper meals and vowed to do better as I filled my plate. When I returned, my table companion pulled the chair out for me. I gratefully sat. He joined me and sipped a beer. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” I asked.

  “Nae, I had a bite before I came. Perhaps I’ll have a bit of Sticky Toffee Pudding before I leave, though.”

  Why would he show up at a party then have nothing to eat? It had taken me a while to recognize him, out of the forest and cleaned up. His hair was combed back into a queue. He wore neatly-pressed slacks and a pin-striped, button-down shirt.

  “You’re the man from the forest,” I said. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your kilt.” Heat invaded my cheeks. “I want to thank you again for helping me find my daughter.”

  “Twas nothing. I was out taking care of some—wild life.”

  “Oh, are you a...games keeper? Do you rescue hurt animals and nurse them back to health?”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me and the hint of a smile creased his face. I couldn’t help but return it, struggling not to let it turn into a full-blown infatuated grin.

  “Sometimes.”

  “You must live near the cottage where we’re staying.”

  He grimaced. “I camp, a bit. I like to rough it during the summer when the weather is so fine.”

  “In the woods? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Not for me. I ken the area very well.”

  For a moment, we sat in silence and watched the dancers. Jess had several partners, but I saw her most often with Gavin. Tate found some other children her age. They were having their own version of a ceilidh in one corner of the large room. The music was amazing. One young man beat a drum. Another, with features so much like the drummer, that they must be related, played an accordion. Two women, one bobbing with the music, the other thoughtful and still, strummed guitars and one man—Gavin’s relative, no doubt because I saw him chat with Gavin earlier—played the violin. As I swayed to the music, I noticed that the man from the forest tapping his foot. When there was a skip in the music, I turned to my table companion.

  “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Becca Shaw.” I stuck out my hand. He surprised me by placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

  “Becca?”

  “Short for Rebecca.”

  “Ah. I am Greg Gillie. Pleased to meet you. I see your little one has made friends.” He motioned toward Tate. Somehow, Kiera had gotten in and was the center of attention. She must definitely be the village mascot. No one seemed upset that a huge cat was at the party. She was very well behaved and the children obviously loved her. As we watched, Kiera rubbed her cheek against Tate’s and disappeared out a propped open back door.

  “Yes, Tate’s very friendly.”

  He frowned. “Warn her that not all things are as they seem.”

  “She’s usually very cautious and well aware of strangers. We moved from Houston, Texas, and the city has a lot of crime. Even in our suburban neighborhood, our next-door neighbors were robbed, and a woman was assaulted at the supermarket the fall before—” I gulped and paused. He waited patiently. “—before my husband died.”

  “My sincere condolences for your loss. I admit I was curious that no man accompanied you into the woods. So, you are alone?”

  “Not alone. As I said, I have my two daughters here with me,” I reminded him. “My oldest is dancing with Gavin Samms, the farmer’s son. I’m also sorry for your loss.”

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back in the chair.

  “I was told you lost your family.”

  “I lost my wife and child,” he said and turned his chair round to watch the dancers. I s
truggled to think of a new topic, but words escaped me when I looked into his emerald eyes.

  At this point, Conall closed in on my table and stopped just behind Greg. “Hello again, Rebecca. I needed to get my aunt settled, but if you would like, I can teach you to dance. I’m sure they’ll be playing one of the easier ones soon.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Mr. McNeil. I’m a lousy dancer. I usually was in charge of the punch bowl back home.”

  “Please, call me Conall.”

  I sighed and resolved to try, despite worrying he would interpret the familiarity the wrong way. He reached for my hand, but I quickly put it on my lap. Then he noticed my table partner.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his face suspicious and his tone sharp.

  “Just passed by and heard the kerfuffle. Thought I would come in and see what was happening.”

  “I’m fairly sure you weren’t invited, and you aren’t welcome.”

  I gasped at his rudeness. “Conall!”

  Greg held out his hands, placating. “Calmy doony, Mr. McNeil. Nae need to rage.” Conall looked surprised for a moment, then Greg spoke again. “I was just passing through and saw the young lady. I ken she wanted something to eat and offered to save her table for her. Goodbye then. I’ll be going.” Greg stood, bowed to me, and turned for the door.

  “Indeed, you better,” Conall growled and followed the dark-haired man with his eyes as he left the building. Conall turned back to me, his face drawing with worry when he noted my expression. “I apologize. There’s just bad blood between that man and my family.”

  “What in the world did he do?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Let’s leave such a sad tale for another time. I am truly sorry for losing my temper. Allow me to make it up to you?” He reached out his hand and nodded toward the band that was starting a new number.

  Deep in thought, I allowed Conall to lead me onto the dance floor. I wondered what their feud was all about, but was soon too busy paying attention to where my feet were going to think on it any further.

  I danced to several more songs with various partners, and I must admit that I had a wonderful time. It crossed my mind to wonder what kind of dancer Greg was. Get that out of your head, Becca. For all you know, he may be dangerous. Goodness knows, he’s as strange as they come.

  This was probably the longest I had gone without missing my husband. I felt a little guilty but reminded myself that he had been dead just over a year, and there was nothing inappropriate about me going out. I was a bit old-fashioned in that respect, and I mourned my husband so much that I probably would have just retreated into my room and hidden under the covers for ages, but with the girls, I had to get myself out and going.

  As the band packed their instruments, I realized that only the girls and I, plus the immediate family of the guest of honor, remained. Tate was having a cookie.

  “Last one, Tate. I’m going to find Jess, then we’re off for the cottage.”

  “Oh, Mom, it’s a special occasion,” she complained half-heartedly.

  “You haven’t felt well lately. I don’t want you complaining of a tummy ache later tonight.” I had to admit that Tate looked much more like herself. Maybe she’d had some low-grade twenty-four-hour flu and was finally getting over the hump and improving. I didn’t see Jess inside and that worried me. “I’ll be right back. I think Jess is outside. Don’t you move,” I cautioned. I found Jessie sitting on the front steps in a huddle with Gavin. Thankfully not kissing but just talking, though she did jump and looked guilty when I called her name. “Jess, time to go.”

  “Can’t we stay a few more minutes?” She looked at me then Gavin then back at me with a pleading expression.

  “The band’s packing up, and soon everyone will be gone, Jess.”

  Gavin jumped up. “Oh, no! I was supposed to be helping. I better go.” He started to leave but turned back to Jessie. “I had a great time. I’m glad you came.”

  “Me too,” Jess said, blushing.

  Ah, young love, save me from it. I sighed, and Jess and I followed Gavin in to get Tate. We made our way to the guest of honor, Mrs. Nivens, to wish her happy birthday once more. We thanked her and Conall’s cousin, Marie—who planned the party—for inviting us. I didn’t see Conall and was glad. He was so brusque with Greg and almost possessive of me. He had no cause to think that. We weren’t dating, and Greg only saved a rickety table for me and introduced himself. I thought I might now know why a handsome man and business owner my age would still be single. When we stepped outside, the village lights made it easy to see Kay finishing a cigarette.

  “I saw you when I first came in, but then you vanished. Sorry I missed you,” I said.

  “I helped some with the serving. Spent some time outside smoking—” She gestured with the one she had almost finished. “—and chatted with the neighbors. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m glad I came. Glad you’re still here and haven’t left already. I wasn’t looking forward to walking home with just me and the girls.”

  The first part of the walk was fine. The main part of the village was paved and well lit, but as we left the buildings and street lamps, it darkened. Thankfully, the full moon, Kay’s flashlight, and Jess’s cell phone light helped us pick out the rocks and dips in our path. We were joined by other villagers who lived our way, but we were the farthest from the town square—or at least the farthest of those who attended the party. Soon enough, it was only the four of us. We were just rounding the corner of the road leading to the path of the cottage, when we heard a howl. Both girls grabbed my hands. Kay had been in the middle of relaying a recipe to me but stopped and looked around.

  “Wolf,” she said. She didn’t seem to be afraid and that bolstered my confidence. “It shouldn’t bother us, but let’s move a little faster. No running,” she cautioned as Tate bent her arms and doubled up her fists in preparation to tear off. “Just quicken the pace.”

  We remained silent. The only noise we could hear was the wind blowing through the leaves. It felt unnatural to be outside in all this flora and fauna and hear nothing. Not the occasional baa of a sheep or moo of a cow or the bark of a dog. We turned onto the lane that led to our cottage when we heard a low growl right behind us.

  “Just keep walking,” Kay said. “Don’t look.” The hairs on the back of my neck straightened and goose bumps covered my arms.

  “Our paths diverge here. You go on. The beast will be undecided.”

  “But what if the wolf is a decisive sort?” I asked.

  Kay patted my arm. “We’ll all be fine. Trust me.” She shooed me and the girls down our path and continued toward her home.

  Chapter 5

  KAY DISAPPEARED, AND I hoped she made it home safely. The wolf howled again—close. It sounded near enough to nip at our heels, but no one turned to check, we just picked up our pace. The night was eerily silent without Tate’s usual chattering. She wasn’t a quiet sort of child, but she had her mouth set. Our gaits were beginning to resemble the speed walkers from the Olympics. I let the girls pull out ahead of me. If this thing did attack, it would hopefully go for me first and then maybe the girls could run to the house while I fought it off.

  “Girls, if anything happens, run. I’ll take care of it,” I said in a low voice.

  Jess shook her head. “Mom, I’m not leaving you. Tate can run ahead and call the police.”

  “No. I won’t!” Tate protested.

  “Shhh! You will both run to the cottage and call the police.”

  I risked a glance behind. The black wolf’s shoulder came to my waist. It didn’t look starved. It was well-muscled and its fur gleamed in the moonlight. As its eyes caught mine, it whined and ducked its head. Perhaps it really was afraid of people. We neared the forest’s edge defining the beginning of the property. I tripped over a rock and tumbled to the ground. The wolf yelped and, as I sat up, it rushed toward me. The girls screamed.

  “Run!” I cried out.

&nbs
p; Before they could, the black stray cat rushed from the underbrush and pounced on the wolf. The wolf cried out when her sharp claws found its delicate snout. Though the wolf shook and rolled, the cat clung to its back and neck.

  “Kiera!” Tate cried out, running toward the snarling beasts.

  “No, Tate!” I snatched at her, but missed her hand.

  She’d almost reached the animals when a bulky, dark figure burst from the forest, caught her around her waist, and lifted her. “Not a good idea, young lady.” Greg held her. “You go to your mum.” He pushed her my way and turned to the animals. The wolf managed to dislodge the cat, and it flew through the air. As Kiera hit a tree trunk, the beast turned toward the man.

  “You dinna want to do that, Sir Wulver,” Greg said. The wolf hesitated. “You need a run,” he continued. “Into the woods with you. Find a wee coineanach to chase.”

  The wolf’s lip rose in a snarl and, with stiff legs, it backed into the woods and out of sight. Tate and Jessie ran toward Kiera. By the time they reached her, she was up, walking.

  “I think she’s just shook up,” Greg said. “Lady Sith is a hardy one.”

  “What did you call her?” Tate asked.

  “Why, Lady Sith is the Queen of Cats.”

  Kiera purred, licked each girl’s hand, then leapt to a low tree limb, and vanished.

  Tate beamed with joy. “Wow, Mom, our kitty is the queen of all kitties.”

  “Rest assured that she is no one’s cat but her own. You are blessed and lucky if she deigns to visit you. Remember, though—always treat her with respect and honor her desires.”

  “We will,” Tate answered solemnly.

  When he addressed me, his soft and gentle tone became gruff. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way to your cottage.”

  “There’s no need,” I protested.

  “No, perhaps not, but I would rest more easily if I knew you and your family made it home.”

  He proffered his arm, and I hesitantly took it, gingerly resting my fingertips on his hard bicep. When we could see the cottage, the girls rushed ahead. We followed at a more dignified pace.