“Poor dear.” Dolidh put a plump hand over her heart. “You just sit right there, and as soon as Barra gets back to tend the bar here, I’ll bring you out some fresh haggis. Don’t that sound nice? Here, have a drink while you wait.” She put a large cup of fresh water on the small wooden table and then returned to filling drams of whisky for the group of rough-looking locals.
“He was really out of it this time.” Barra was talking to a tall muscular man as he came through the door. “When I got him in the barn, I had to throw two more buckets on him before he even opened an eye. Thanks again for yer help, Brian. Your weekly shot is on the house tonight.”
“Not necessary, Barra. I’m always happy to help, you know.” Brian patted Barra on the back with a wide smile, revealing perfect teeth. His stubble-covered face and blue-gray eyes were still lit by the smile when he took a stool near the door. Moira was still staring at his tall muscular form when Dolidh dropped a plate on the table, causing her to jump.
“Sorry, wee one. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Here you are . . . haggis with neeps and tatties, my specialty. It goes best with a dram of whisky. I don’t mean to brag, but you’ll not find within a hundred miles a better cook than me.” Dolidh beamed.
Moira mumbled something resembling a thank you, still unable to keep her eyes from the man at the bar, who was laughing wholeheartedly with Barra. Dolidh turned and followed her gaze to the dark-haired stranger.
“That there is Brian MacDonald. He has a farm around the corner.” She motioned to the east with her free hand. “One of the nicest men you’ll ever meet in this life. He and my Barra are good friends, have been since they were wee lads. Barra’s a few years old than Brian, but that never seemed to bother them though.”
Dolidh continued, “He’s a handsome lad, but his parents died when he was a young’n, so he doesn’t open his heart to many people. See, he’s almost thirty and never married, not that he couldn’t, believe you me. Any woman in Oidean would give her teeth to get a ring from that man. And any papa would pay a high price for his daughter to marry that one, but he just don’t seem interested.”
Moira was only half listening to the rambling woman, who seemed to be trying to warn her. She looked up, irritated at the innkeeper, and thanked her for the wonderful food. Dolidh shook her head with a sigh. “They never listen,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.
Moira continued staring at Brian while she finished her food, barely tasting it. By his solid build, she wasn’t surprised that he was a farmer; he was evidently no stranger to physical labor. He was the complete opposite of Artair Bard, the sloppy, lazy drunk. This man appeared to be kind, helpful, and friendly. He must be a leaver. She had come to the conclusion that there were only two kinds of men: the mean, lazy ones, like Artair, and the leavers, like her father.
Moira was still staring when he turned abruptly toward her. Feeling the heat rising in her face, Moira dropped her eyes too quickly to go unnoticed. Stupid, stupid, she scolded herself. She continued to look at the empty plate on the table in front of her until she was certain he had looked away. Tentatively raising her eyes, she found that he was still looking at her. He was now turned around with his back leaning on the bar, his head tilted back. He was talking over his shoulder to Barra, but his calm blue-gray eyes never left Moira. She wanted to get up and flee to the protection of her room, but she couldn’t make her feet work. So there they stayed, eyes glued to one another as if no one else existed.
* * *
Brian leaned against the bar watching the new woman. She was the most striking woman he had ever laid eyes on. Neither of them moved from the unwavering gaze, so they stayed still as statues until Barra pulled Brian’s attention back to him.
“Do you see something you like there, Mac? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone hold your gaze like that.” Barra laughed, shaking Brian’s shoulders with both hands.
“Who is she? Where did she come from?” Brian asked, ducking his head so he wouldn’t have to look at Barra.
Barra shrugged his shoulders. “She came in early this morning asking for a room for a few days. Dolidh says her parents are dead and she’s headed down to Allail to live with some relative. Are you thinking of finally settling down, Mac? I never thought I’d see the day when a woman could hold your attention for more than a quick glance. She must be something special,” Barra said, amused.
“I, um, just think she, um, has a nice face, that’s all,” Brian said, downing some whisky.
“Yeah, a nice face ain’t all that one’s got,” the drunken man next to Brian slurred with a laugh.
“Why don’t you shut up and drink your whisky?” Brian snarled, confused at his need to protect this unknown beauty.
Barra put his rough hand on the drunken man’s shoulder, easily pushing him back onto his stool. He could sense a brawl brewing between the two men. “If you like what you see, just go talk to her, Brian,” Barra said. It wasn’t so much that he was trying to save his inn the damage a brawl would cause; he was trying to save the drunk man a broken nose. Brian could take any man in the village or all of them at once and still come out without a mark. That is, if he were a fighting man.
“Pour me another shot, Barra,” Brian said, trying to muster the courage to go talk to the dark-haired young woman.
“Another shot? You sure, Mac? You never have more than one a week.”
“I’m sure. I just need a little bit of nerve before I go talk to her, that’s all.” Brian put the glass to his lips and poured the harsh liquid down his throat. Slamming the empty glass upside down on the counter, he motioned for one more. Shaking his chestnut head, Barra put another shot on the bar for his friend to down just as fast.
After ten more minutes and another shot, or maybe two, Brian wiped the trickle of whisky off his stubbly chin with the back of his callused hand. He blew his breath out with a whoosh and turned on his heel. To his grateful surprise, she was still sitting in the exact same spot. Her eyes dropped to the table. As Brian started to walk toward her table, the room started to tilt a little bit. Maybe the extra shots weren’t a good idea after all, he thought. He started to walk again, slower this time, watching his feet to make sure they went in a straight line.
A girl jumped up from the table next to the bar, and Brian ran right into her. “Hi, Brian. How are you this fine evening?” she asked, batting her eyes up at him.
“Whoa there, Mollie.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I almost knocked you down. You all right?”
“I’m always all right when you’re around.” Mollie smiled, revealing a row of straight white teeth.
Brian blushed and pulled his hands from her shoulders. He cleared his throat. “Um, I’m glad you’re doing well. Have a lovely evening, Mollie.” He nodded and tried sidestepping around her.
“Brian?” Mollie stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“Yes?” he answered, looking down at the hand pressing urgently against his chest.
“I was just thinking, it’s such a mild evening, just right for a walk around the village . . . ,” she trailed off, demurely dropping her gray eyes to the floor.
“Mmmm . . .” Brian mumbled, looking over Mollie’s straw-colored hair at the black-haired beauty.
“Well . . . what do you think?” She was staring intently at him when he dropped his gaze to her.
“I don’t think so, Mollie.” He smiled sympathetically at the young woman. “I think it’s a tiny bit chilly tonight.”
“Oh,” she said, her shoulders slumped and the corners for her mouth fell in a frown. “Maybe another time?”
“Maybe.” Brian stepped around her.
“Anytime. I’m free anytime, Brian,” Mollie called after him.
* * *
Moira looked up, her emerald eyes widening when she realized Brian was coming over to talk to her. Here was her chance to start over; she could be anybody she wanted to be. A wide, inviting smile spread across her full red lips. Brian smiled back.
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“Hello, my name is Brian MacDonald. I don’t think I have seen you around before. Are you from around these parts?” Brian asked, offering her his right hand. Moira smiled invitingly and put her hand into his outstretched one. Really, is he just as nice as everyone else?
“No, I’m not from around here. I’m passing through on my way to Allail.”
“Barra said you were headed to stay with family. Is that right?”
“Yes, I’m going to stay with my aunt. You see, my father just passed on and she’s the only family I have left.” Moira wiped at fake tears welling up in her eyes. She was getting really good at putting on her show.
“I’m so very sorry to hear that, Miss . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s because I haven’t said it yet, sir.” Moira looked through her lashes and smiled playfully.
“Right, sorry.” Moira saw the concern crease Brian’s thick brows. Shaking her head, she decided it wasn’t a smart idea to be coy.
“My name is Moira . . . um . . . Carson.” She decided to use her mother’s maiden name. “Won’t you have a seat, Mr. MacDonald?” Moira motioned to the seat across from her. Brian sat down ungracefully.
Moira felt eyes on her and glanced toward the bar. Sitting at a small table, a blonde girl was staring at her with narrowed eyes. Moira shivered at the icy gaze. She turned her attention back to Brian.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your father. I lost both of my parents when I was young. Were you very close to him?” Brian asked.
“We were as close as a father and daughter could be.” Great, he’s going to share details of his life with me. She was starting to regret asking him to sit with her. “It was just the two of us since my mother died when I was young. Were you close to your parents?” Moira wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get too involved with anyone here. She would be leaving in a few days and the less people knew about her the better. She just couldn’t stop herself—he was so handsome. He was even nicer to look at up close than he was from a distance.
“We were very close,” Brian said. “It was just the three of us my whole life. The hardest thing for me was to watch the two people I loved more than anything in this world suffer until their death. But I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that.”
Moira really didn’t want to hear any of it. She didn’t understand the unconditional love of a family. It just didn’t make any sense to her. The only family she had ever known was the Bards, and they did not have unconditional love for anyone.
“I don’t mind. I enjoy listening to you,” Moira said, trying not to sound too eager.
They went on like that for hours; he would share things from his past with her, and she would make up lies about hers. He would share his hopes and dreams for the future, and she would smile and tell him his stupid small town plans sounded nice. All he wanted was a beautiful wife to share his life with and a son to pass on his farm.
Oh, please, she thought. What monotonous aspirations. Where is the glory in having a family and a farm to call your own? Where is the fame, the respect and the money? What about power? Who would you have power over, the sheep and cows? She was disappointed with his lack of ambition. She knew her plans didn’t include a husband to hold her back and definitely no children, that was for sure. Children were nothing but trouble.
“That sounds wonderful, Brian.” Moira offered him her sweetest smile.
* * *
Brian couldn’t believe someone so amazing had just wandered into his village. He had given up hope of ever finding anyone he might spend the rest of his life with, but now he was starting to think maybe Moira could be that person.
“Moira, we’ve been talking for hours.” Brian felt more sober than he had when he sat down. “My legs need to stretch. Would you like to take a stroll? I could show you around, if you’d like.” Brian held his breath while he waited for her answer. He wanted to be alone with her, away from the prying local eyes.
“I would like that, but will your girl like that?”
“What? My girl?” Brian asked.
“The young woman by the bar that has not taken her eyes off of us all evening.” Moira raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the bar.
Brian laughed. He didn’t even need to turn around. He knew exactly who Moira was talking about. “She isn’t my girl, though she would like to be. I unfortunately do not share her feelings. So, how about that walk?”
* * *
“Why not? It’s getting crowded and stuffy in here anyway,” she said. She thought anything would be better than having the whole room, which had become very crowded, gawking at them. Brian pulled her chair out for her and offered her his arm. Moira put her arm in his and felt his bicep tighten slightly. When he led her out the door, Moira could feel the eyes of everyone in the room boring into their backs. Brian pulled the large wooden door shut behind them as Moira filled her lungs with the frosty fresh air of the brisk January evening.
Moira pulled her blanket close around her body. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is it too cold out for you tonight?” Brian asked.
“No, it’s fine. It actually feels nice after the heat of the inn. It was really starting to become stifling in there. This was a nice idea.” Moira smiled up at him. She hadn’t realized just how tall he was until she was standing next to him. The top of her head came about halfway between his elbow and shoulder.
“Would it be all right if I put my arm around you? You know, um, just to help keep you warm. It would, um, at least make me feel a little better about dragging you out into the cold,” Brian stammered.
“That would be just fine, Mr. MacDonald.” Thankful it was getting dark, Moira avoided his gaze so he wouldn’t see her face. Who says chivalry is dead? she thought with a smile.
Brian put his long, toned arm around her shoulders. Moira was startled by his touch, not because she wasn’t expecting it, but because of the way it made her feel. She felt a jolt of adrenaline at his gentle yet firm touch. She couldn’t keep her head clear with his body so close to her side. Her breathing became labored; she had to force herself to breathe. She tripped over her own feet and almost fell to the ground. Brian caught her, his brow furrowed in concern. What’s wrong with me? she thought, feeling her face flush with heat. That was really peculiar. I must be tired from my walk here, she decided.
“Are you all right? Do we need to go back?” Brian asked, compassion evident on his handsome face.
“No, I just tripped on a rock or something.” Moira turned to look behind her as if she was going to find the item that tripped her.
“All right,” Brian said with skepticism on his face, “but if you start to get tired let me know and we’ll head back. Okay?”
“That won’t be necessary, but thank you just the same.” Moira flashed him the sweetest smile she could manage. What does he think I am, some kind of a child? Moira thought angrily. Brian returned his arm to her shoulders, and feeling heady, her anger melted at his touch.
Slowly Brian led her around the small village, turning west not far from the inn. He showed her the bakery and the baker’s house right next door and the small village school that was new this year. Next to the school he pointed out the small mercantile store where he traded for the essentials that he couldn’t grow or make. He showed her everything there was to see in the small village, adding commentary all the way. He told her amusing stories about the people that lived, worked, and played in Oidean. For almost two hours they walked and he talked. Moira never noticed the sun sink down behind the horizon or the red orange glow it created on the low gray clouds in the sky. She never noticed the temperature drop. All she was aware of was the thrill that shot through her every time his body bumped against hers and the way his firm biceps felt as the muscles contracted and relaxed against her neck. She didn’t hear a word he said, but she loved the way his voice sounded. She could have listened to him speak all night. For a few hours she was just a beautiful woman being courted by an unbelievable man.<
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Moira was jolted out of her daydream of his smooth velvety voice and his Greek godlike body when they came to a sudden stop. “Why have we stopped? I thought you were giving me the grand tour of Oidean?” Moira asked.
“Yes, I was giving you the tour until we finished.” He pointed to the next building with a puzzled expression. They were standing between a small farm and the inn. They had made it all the way around the village without Moira even noticing.
“Oh, so we have.” Moira turned her eyes to her feet, shame on her face. “It just didn’t take as long as I thought it would.” Moira wasn’t anxious to end their evening and go back to her lonely room at the inn. It had been so long since she had been with anyone that didn’t repulse her.
“We’ve been gone nearly two hours now.” Brian smiled.
“Who lives in that house?” Moira pointed to the farm they were standing by. She was grasping at straws trying to lengthen his stay with her. She was sure he had already told her whose farm it was, but she didn’t care if he had to tell her a thousand times if it meant he was standing next to her.
“That’s my farm,” Brian said slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“That’s right. You already said that. Well then, I guess that’s it.” She started to turn toward the inn.
* * *
“Yes, that’s it,” he whispered, not wanting her to leave. “Moira?”
“Yes?” She turned back to face him.
“Um, would it be all right if I came by to take you for another walk tomorrow evening?” The words rushed out before he had a chance to think.
“That would be fine. On one condition . . .”
“What’s that?” His eyes met hers.
“That we go a little earlier, before it gets so cold and dark,” Moira said.
“Absolutely.” He bowed his head and kissed the back of her hand. “Good night, Moira. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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Midnight Runner: A Novel Page 4