Midnight Runner: A Novel

by Marilee Jackson

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Moira said

  “Oh, what a sight Barra was back then, with his farm-built body. His hair was still brown, not a single gray in there anywhere.” Dolidh had a distant look in her eye. “As far as I was concerned it was love at first sight, but back then he didn’t care about girls. I would spend hours in ma’s flower bed pulling petals. ‘He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me!’ ”

  Dolidh laughed.

  Moira stared at Dolidh with her mouth open, unable to make any sound come out. Could she really be falling in love after only one week with this man? She didn’t marry him because she loved him. It was purely out of necessity. She married him to change her name, so that she was less likely to be caught by the Bards.

  “He’s a good man,” Dolidh was saying when Moira tuned back in. “Just know this. He’s like family to Barra an’ me. Everyone in this little village loves him like their own kin. If you hurt him, we’ll not be to kind to ya,” she said, eyeing the young beauty. “Oh, and I’d steer clear of Mollie. She won’t be happy with you, no sir. That girl’s had her eye on Brian for quite some time now.”

  “What makes you think he’s even interested in me?” Moira asked, tilting her head in mock innocence. She was beginning to get irritated that Dolidh wouldn’t mind her own business.

  “I already told ya, before he met you he’s never so much as looked at any other woman. He must’ve been real taken by you to even talk to ya. Don’t break his fragile heart.” An eerie shadow came into Dolidh’s eye’s, making her blue irises appear black. “Now, time to get going on lunch.” Dolidh smiled, the darkness completely gone from her face. Then she turned and walked back to the kitchen.

  Staring wide-eyed after Dolidh’s retreating frame, Moira decided she was terrified of the innkeeper’s wife and that she was in dire need of some fresh air and exercise. She decided to go outside to clear her head. Trying to avoid Brian—at least until she knew how to handle the situation—she turned west, away from his farm. She followed the same course he had led her on the first night they met.

  Walking slowly, she enjoyed the cool breeze as it blew strands of her hair into her face. Dolidh doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’m not falling in love with anybody. I only married him to get a new name and throw Artair off my scent. I have plans to be somebody. And that plan does not include staying here and continuing to be the wife of a farmer, no matter how fine looking that farmer might be. No matter how strapping he is, no matter what . . . Stop it! Moira yelled at herself.

  Don’t let one man ruin your plans, Moira Agar. You’ve had these plans a lot longer than you have known Brian MacDonald!

  However, he is awfully amazing. He is kind, caring, strong, and handsome. He already owns his own farm. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay the wife of a farmer.

  Moira had made her mind up long ago. Oidean was a nice little village, but she was made for so much more. Even if she could make friends with Dolidh, as long as she stayed on her good side, she wanted more in life. No, she decided, I am not in love with Brian MacDonald.

  She smiled and nodded to the baker as she passed the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread hung in the air. Moira breathed in the warm, inviting aroma. Continuing on, she shuddered as she walked past the small school. Memories of spoiled, snotty Riona Bard played in her mind. She wondered what they had done when they woke and found her gone. With a chuckle she imagined them all standing around the stove in their small kitchen, willing it to make them breakfast.

  There was a man walking in front of Moira that seemed familiar. He was bald and his tunic was richly colored and ornately designed. Moira gasped and dove down a side road. It was the coin purse man. The Bards must have sent him to find her. When he had disappeared from view, she tentatively resumed her walk.

  She came to a stop in front of a mercantile store and was curious about its contents. Perhaps they had some fabric; she could make herself a new dress or two. She looked down at the one she was wearing. It was getting quite threadbare. She had more than enough money left from Sorcha. Oh, Sorcha. Moira repressed a sob at the fresh pain.

  When she reached the front door, she gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. Coming directly at her was Brian MacDonald. She wasn’t prepared to see him yet. She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say to him. She hadn’t come up with an excuse for her escape this morning. Turning as quickly as she could, she jumped off the porch and into the closest bush. She hoped he hadn’t looked up and seen her.

  * * *

  Brian was exiting the small store with a few sacks tossed over his shoulder. He looked down to check his list just as a quick movement by the door caught his eye. He looked up in time to see a blur of black dive off the front porch. He had been walking around in a daze, and he wasn’t sure if he had really seen it or not. Maybe he was having hallucinations, because he had been obsessing about seeing Moira all morning. Shaking his head to clear away the slight hangover, he pushed the door open and looked to his left to see a large bush wearing shoes. He wasn’t real great with all plants, but he did know that most of them didn’t have feet. And if they did, they didn’t walk much, so why would they need shoes?

  “Moira, what are you doing in that bush?” He had to laugh in spite of his disappointment in her for leaving without a word in the middle of the night. The only answer was the rustling of the short branches as she tried in vain to pull her feet from his view. “Moira, I know you’re in there. Please just come out and save yourself a wee bit of embarrassment.”

  Slowly she emerged from the bushes. Her eyes were on her shoes and she refused to look at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  When she didn’t answer Brian tried again. “Why are you hiding in the bushes outside of the mercantile?”

  “I was just . . .” Moira started in a whisper and then stopped, the heat turning her cheeks scarlet.

  “Yes, go on.” Brian shifted his weight impatiently. “Here, let me help you . . .” He waited for her to protest, but she didn’t. “You were just hiding in the bushes so you wouldn’t have to explain why you left in the middle of the night. Do you know you left your blanket on my bed?” His jaw was set and irritation was obvious on his stubbly face.

  “Yes,” Moira said, barely audible.

  “Yes to which one? The blanket or you disappearing?” Brian felt very wary all of the sudden.

  “To both of them, I guess.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably.

  “Why? That’s all I want to know. Why?”

  “I didn’t . . . I don’t . . .” Moira finally looked up to meet his unkind gaze. As she did the air involuntarily whooshed out of his lungs. He had been so angry with her that he had forgotten how beautiful she was.

  “Why don’t we walk and talk so we don’t draw a crowd?” he offered in a softer tone. Lifting the bags of oats and sugar, he effortlessly tossed them over his left shoulder. When he was situated, he offered her his right arm. Moira hesitated for a few seconds before finally taking it.

  For several minutes they walked in silence. “Would you like to explain a few things to me now?” Brian asked, finally breaking the silence. Moira heaved a sigh and he felt her muscles tighten with unease. “Let’s start with an easy one,” he said, stealing a sideways glace at her. He was watching for any sign of upsetting her. The last thing he wanted was for her run away again. “What were you looking for at the store?” he asked conversationally.

  “I was just wandering around the town. I needed to get away from the inn for awhile,” Moira said truthfully.

  “Okay, see how easy that was. Now, why were you hiding in the bushes?” Brian raised his thick eyebrows questioningly, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that one.

  “I was trying to avoid you.” Moira dropped her eyes again.

  “Why?” Brian asked sincerely.

  “Because I wasn’t ready to see you again yet,” was all she could manage to say.


  “Why? Do you not like me? Do you regret getting married?” Brian stopped walking and turned to face her.

  “No! That’s not it at all. I’m not sorry about the marriage.” She looked a little surprised. “And last night was. . . well, it was . . . it was just wonderful. Of course I like you, Brian. If I didn’t I never would have agreed to marry you. It’s just . . .” Moira struggled to go on.

  “Well?” Brian encouraged.

  “I’ve never done anything like that before. I didn’t know too many men in Trom. You’re the first man other than Mr. . . ., er, my father that I have ever really even had a conversation with. I guess I left because I got scared,” Moira finally finished.

  “Moira, look at me.” He eased her chin up with his callused hand. “You have nothing to fear. I would never hurt you. And just so you know, I have never done anything like that before either,” he said, trying to make her feel better. “I think part of the reason I did is because I’m tired of being alone.”

  He saw hurt flash across her face at his last words.

  “That came out wrong. Let me try again. Just because I’m lonely doesn’t mean I regret what happened, because I don’t. I don’t regret a single minute of the time we’ve spent together. In fact I can’t wait to spend more time getting to know you.” Brian stroked her face with his free hand. “Now how about we head back to my farm? Well, I mean our farm. I need to put these bags away and I would love to cook you dinner. What do you say?”

  Relief washed over Moira and she smiled. “I would love to come back to our house. Can you cook?” she asked skeptically.

  “Next to Dolidh, I’m the best cook in Oidean. My father taught me to tend to a farm because I was his only son. And my mother taught me to tend to the household because I didn’t have a sister.”

  “Hmmm, we’ll see.”

  Putting her arm back in his, Moira let him lead her up the road and into his front room. Brian went to the kitchen and put down his bags to start dinner preparations. Moira followed him into the kitchen, and as he cooked, she sat at the small table and watched him.

  “There is one thing that I’m worried about.” Moira ducked her head to avoid his glance.

  “What’s that?” he asked, lighting the fire in the stove.

  “Well . . . last night . . . we, you know . . . ,” she trailed off.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what will people think? What about my reputation?” she added quickly, not meeting his eyes.

  “I was thinking about that today. You know, just in case you did decide to come back. We’ll have to let everyone know sooner or later that we’re married. So I guess it will be sooner.” He looked at Moira and her face looked ashen. “Of course, if you would rather wait to tell people, the only ones that know where you spent last night are Dolidh and Barra, and, believe me, they have no room to judge.”

  “Okay,” Moira said doubtfully. “Maybe we should tell everyone, if only to save our reputations.”

  * * *

  They continued to talk for hours, all through dinner preparation, during the meal, and while cleaning up. The talking didn’t cease when she followed him out to tend the animals for the night. Moira felt herself becoming completely at ease with him. She told him how she had always dreamed of being rich and noble.

  “I’m so excited to go to Allail. I can’t wait to see the royal castles and palaces. I want to see them up close in their own houses.” Moira was staring, unseeing, up at the dark night sky. “I’m so glad that my aunt lives there,” she added, remembering the lie she had been telling.

  “I don’t need a lot of money to be happy, just the right woman,” Brian replied quietly, staring intently into her eyes. Moira dropped her gaze and looked at her hands. Brian continued on, telling her about his parents and how their tragic deaths had affected his relationships with other women. He told her that she was the only woman that he had ever even looked at twice. Moira was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. She was glad the animals were fed and they were returning to the house.

  Brian walked to his bedroom. Moira followed him and stood in the doorway watching him. She looked at the bed, memories of the previous night flooding her mind, making her tremble. “What’s the matter? Are you cold?” Brian hurried past her to put more wood on the fire. “I’m sorry. I forgot to put more wood in before we went outside.”

  Moira met his gaze. She saw a fire smoldering in his eyes and realized her trembling was not from cold. Brian reached out and pulled her to him. He kissed her with a tenderness she was afraid she would never feel again. Pulling her fully into his arms, he lifted her up, walked with her to the bed, and gently lay down with her. Tonight she felt no fear or apprehension. Maybe Dolidh’s not crazy. Maybe I am falling in love, Moira thought as she fell into the deepest sleep she had had in years.

  * * *

  Brian awoke in the early hours of dawn. Moira was still sleeping peacefully beside him. He settled back in beside her with a pleased smile on his face.

  10

  Moira’s days in Oidean turned into weeks. She took a job at the bakery to give her something to do every day while Brian took care of the farm. It was gratifying to be paid for the work she did. Every spare minute was spent with Brian. They would read together and discuss the books. They took turns cooking for each other, and she willingly cleaned the house. On her days off Moira would help feed the animals and pull weeds from the garden. They alternated their evening meals between their house and the inn. She officially moved in a few days after their marriage.

  Moira could see herself changing. She was letting her guard down and she was beginning to trust Brian with her heart. And to her surprise, she was starting to enjoy Dolidh and Barra’s company. She still felt they didn’t have half a brain between them, but they seemed nice enough. She was beginning to wonder if it was enough to just be nice. The only person that had been nice to her other than her mother was Sorcha, but they had both died before Moira had a chance to really get to know them.

  Moira couldn’t believe how much Dolidh fussed over them when they were at the inn. She kept telling Moira she was overjoyed that Brian had finally found someone. They were the talk of the village.

  One day on her way home from the bakery, an elderly woman stopped Moira and said, “It has been years since any of us have seen Brian smile so easily. He’s always been such a nice boy, but now he’s completely overjoyed. Everyone knows it’s all because of you.” The woman patted Moira on the hand as she walked away. Moira felt like she was walking around with her head in the clouds. She wondered if life could really be this good.

  * * *

  February turned into March, and the freezing winter weather started to let up. Brian felt the weather was mimicking the thawing of his heart. It had remained frozen since the death of his parents. Until he met Moira, he was sure it would most likely stay that way forever. Moira, he thought with a sigh, I can’t wait until she gets back from the bakery. The three days a week that she worked were the loneliest for Brian. Looking at the sky, Brian realized it was getting close to afternoon. Moira would be at his farm in a few hours, and he was daydreaming like a schoolboy at the close of the term. Whistling a happy tune, he turned his attention back to his ax so he didn’t risk losing a finger.

  All of a sudden, Brian heard, “Oy, Mac. How’ve ya been?”

  Brian nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Barra! I didn’t hear you coming. Sorry. Come and pull up a log.” Brian motioned for his friend to sit down on the pile in front of him. “What can I do for you today?” Brian resumed the expert swing of his ax.

  “Just wanted to chat a wee bit. How’re things going? How’s the farm? The animals? The house? How’s Moira?” He cocked his head to one side and smirked.

  “Things are good. The animals are fine. The house could use some spring cleaning, and Moira is wonderful. Thanks for asking.” Brian blushed and ducked his head. It was obvious he wasn’t comfortable talking so openly
about his personal life, not even with Barra.

  “Mac, I’ve known you a long time—most of my life, in fact. I was there for ya when your ma and pa died. I love you like my own brother.” Barra heaved a sigh. Brian wasn’t sure where this was going but he didn’t think it couldn’t be good.

  “Okay . . .” It seemed like an eternity passed before Barra continued.

  “The reason I come to see you is . . . I . . . well, to get right to it. I want to see you happy and settled down. We’ve all noticed you seem to have taken a liking to Moira, and she seems to be a lovely girl. Dolidh and I’ve been thinking you should marry her and save both your reputations with this living together.” Barra stared at his shoes while he waited for a response.

  Brian looked thoughtfully at the uncomfortable man. He had always thought of Barra as the brother he never had. Barra was obviously embarrassed to talk about something so personal too. Neither one of them had talked about their feelings since the death of Brian’s parents. Dolidh must have sent him over. He smiled and decided he would be open with Barra and make it short and relatively painless for them both.

  “I’m sure Moira would appreciate your concern for her.” Brian smirked. “In fact, I’ve been kicking around the idea of talking to you for a few days now. Moira and I have been married for a few weeks now.” Barra finally pulled his eyes off of his shoes and looked up at Brian, his eyes wide with shock.

  “You’re what? But that’s great! Dolidh’ll be so happy.” Barra’s grizzled face broke into a huge grin.

  “I would like to be the one to tell Moira that I’ve let the cat out of the bag. So if you don’t mind, would you not tell Dolidh right away?”

  Brian loved Dolidh like a mother, but she was the biggest gossip in Oidean. She loved to share news, happy or sad, true or false. She would share with everyone that would hold still long enough to listen.

  * * *