by Diane Darcy
“I’d be glad tae.” Though the man was only a decade or so older than he was, he’d proven to be a font of information.
He helped Joe haul the heavy piece of hose across the pasture, and Joe showed him how to connect it to an existing hose.
“What is its purpose, exactly?”
Using the back of his hand, Joe tipped his hat up, his hazel eyes serious as he wiped his brow. “We’ve got plenty of water at the moment, but give it a month or so and we’re going to need to water this field. We grow our own hay for the cattle, and I’m just getting ready for planting. Better to have the lines fixed and in place before we plant the seed.”
Calum looked at the vast fields in either direction and at the hay carefully bundled and covered on one end of the field. “There is much that goes intae running this place.”
Joe was back to unrolling the hose. “There is. But it keeps me busy, and it’s the best job in the world. I’d rather be outside, working at my own pace, than trapped in an office somewhere.”
“We’re in agreement.”
They worked side-by-side, Joe explaining to Calum each step as they went, seeming to enjoy the process of teaching.
“You plannin’ to be out here permanent like? Or are you just passing through?”
Calum wished he knew the answer himself. If he had his way, he’d soon have a wife and family to look after. Even as he thought it, a kind of peace seemed to settle over him.
He’d felt this before. So many years of living on the moor with so much time to think, drift, contemplate, or just be, left him with a calm sense of knowing when he’d gotten something right.
Often when thinking of past events, how they’d played out, and his role in them, he’d learned a sense of acceptance, and he felt that now. A warm sense of rightness, deep inside.
He turned to Joe with a smile. “I’m here tae stay.”
Joe’s expression shifted just the slightest bit, and he finally asked, “I take it you and Mandy are friends?”
“We are,” he said with a firm finality.
Joe’s brows rose. “Thought so. You seemed awfully cozy when you pulled up in the car just now.”
Calum glanced at him. “Oh, ye saw that, did ye?”
Joe grinned. “Mandy’s a nice girl. I’d be glad to see some happiness come her way.”
“I hope tae be the cause of it.”
Joe tipped his hat up again. “It looks like you’re off to a good start. The Calhouns are a good family. Good people.” Joe slapped him on the back. “Come on, and I’ll show you how to get stuff done.”
They were soon loading gear into the back of Joe’s truck and Calum patted it on the side. “I’ve never driven one of these before. I’d love tae learn how.”
“Do you have a driver’s license?”
Calum shook his head. Wickham had provided him a passport, but it didn’t say anywhere on it that it gave him driving privileges. “I doonae think so.”
“You don’t think so? Either you have a driver’s license, or you don’t.”
“Then I suppose I doonae.”
“Huh. Well, no one cares out here anyway, so hop in,” Joe gestured toward the driver’s seat.
After a brief moment of surprised pleasure, Calum was quick to take him up on his offer.
This day just kept getting better and better.
“Are you still planning on coming out to lunch tomorrow? Mom and I need help with the pies for the Spring Social, and you did promise, remember?”
Mandy rolled her eyes at Sierra’s wheedling tone. “I’m looking forward to it. Why are we doing pies, anyway?”
“Mom’s thinking traditional for the win this year. According to her there have been too many fancy pants dishes in the last few years. She thinks she can win it with a classic. Is Calum coming? Am I going to meet him?”
“Are we going to get to meet him?” She heard Deanna, Sierra’s mom, call out in the background.
Mandy chuckled. “I have no idea if Calum will be willing to come to the social or not. I barely know the man, remember?”
“That’s not what I heard!” Deanna called out from the background again.
“Sorry, I’d take you off the speaker phone if my hands weren’t full,” Sierra said. “Just ignore her. I know I do.”
Since Deanna was laughing in the background, she obviously wasn’t offended.
“How is it going with your houseguest over there?”
“I guess it’s fine.”
“Just fine? I know if a man proposed marriage to me out of the blue, I’d certainly be looking at him a little differently.”
“He seems like a nice guy. Him being from Scotland, I guess he looks at things a little differently.”
“How so?”
“Oh, you know, he just made a comment today about how we needed to be married before the babe is born, so it’ll have his name.”
“Well,” Sierra started out a bit hesitantly. “That’s not exactly so different from our area, now is it? I mean, the old-fashioned values. Sure, there are a lot of people that don’t care anymore, but there’s still just as many that do.”
Mandy felt a spear of hurt. “You think so?”
“You’ve got to know people are talking. Wondering about who the father is and, you know, making up their own stories about how you had your heart broken and things like that.”
Mandy was stunned, hurt turning to anger. “Are you kidding me? You haven’t said a word about this.”
“You’re in a delicate state. It’s not like I wanted to go out of my way to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
Mandy huffed out a laugh. “But now that I’ve had a marriage proposal, you feel comfortable letting me know all of this?”
“Come on, don’t be like that. You asked a flat out question, so I felt like I had to answer. It’s as simple as that, no need to read anything into it.”
Mandy couldn’t help but feel a bit miffed, anyway. “I thought you had my back on this.”
“I do! You know that I do. Hold on just a second.”
Mandy could hear Sierra walking into another room, and then heard a door shut. “The thing is, I think you should know that Mom just got a text message from Tiffany Pagett saying that Calum is the father of your child.”
“What?”
“Look, I don’t know what happened, but apparently, Joe texted his wife, and you know how she is, and it’s sort of getting out in the community that Calum is the father of your child and that’s why he’s here and staying at your place.”
Mandy pulled out the kitchen chair and sank down on it. With her elbow on the table, her hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes. “My, gosh. He just arrived at the house last night, and everyone thinks he fathered my child?”
“You have been a little cagey about who the dad is, and nobody really believes the artificial insemination story Red’s putting out there, so … I guess it’s believable.”
Mandy groaned.
“Look on the bright side. If you do marry him, there won’t ever be any awkward explanations. He looks like the dad. Maybe the kid will come out looking like him and maybe it was just meant to be.”
Mandy groaned again. “I’m skipping the church social.”
“No, you’re not! That is absolutely the worst thing you could do at this point. And I’m not getting stuck making these pies on my own!”
Mandy started to laugh. Honest-to-goodness full-blown laughter peeled out of her, making her stomach jiggle, and no doubt jostling her precious baby.
She put a hand on her stomach and eventually started to calm down.
“Feel better?” Sierra asked on the other end of the line.
“I guess I do. This whole thing is just funny when you think about it.”
“Great. You keep up that sense of humor. It’ll serve you well in the next few months. Now, be here tomorrow at noon, so we can make the pies for Saturday. You can face everyone down at the social, and tell them what you want, or don’t say a word.�
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“Yeah, that will work out just great, won’t it?”
Sierra giggled. “Probably not. Now that people don’t have to tiptoe around you on account of your broken heart and all, you’re going to get grilled like you just stole Mrs. Monty’s prized laying hen.”
“No mercy?”
Sierra laughed again. “Not even a smidgen.”
Chapter 6
Mandy made a few phone calls to a supplier, calmed a seamstress who was having a panic attack over a deadline, and then closed out her computer for the day.
Time to make dinner.
Something that had never given her butterflies in her stomach in the past.
She headed down to the kitchen and glanced out the window to see her grandfather’s truck was still missing.
That was fine by her as she was feeling a bit flighty at the moment.
A part of her wanted to be mad at her grandfather for messing with her life.
She’d been feeling rock-solid for a while now. She knew what she wanted, had decided what she didn’t want anymore, and had let go of those old, silly, dreams of romance, family.
But now, here they were rearing their heads once again.
In the form of a very large Scottish Highlander.
The ridiculousness of that had not hit her until that moment. It was like her teenage daydreams coming to revisit her as an adult, leaving her feeling slightly silly and maybe even giddy at the same time.
A familiar combination if she was fifteen years old.
She opened the refrigerator, retrieved the thawed hamburger and quickly gathered the ingredients for meatloaf.
Men loved meat, didn’t they?
And she cared about this, why?
Was she really going to pretend she wasn’t making this particular dish because she thought Calum would like it?
Of course, the man was working hard, so why shouldn’t he come home to a decent meal?
And, after all, it was one of her grandfather’s favorites. It didn’t have to be Calum she was trying to impress.
For that matter, she liked it too. Maybe she was just pleasing herself?
She flipped on the wall television, hoping for a distraction from her thoughts as she mixed the ingredients and formed the meat into a roll in a pan. She washed her hands, and then placed the meatloaf in the oven.
She didn’t have time to make homemade rolls, so she pulled some out of the freezer, thawed them in the microwave, and spent the next fifteen minutes chopping vegetables, and tossing a salad with dressing, salt, and pepper.
She placed some of the cookies she’d baked earlier on a plate and set it off to one side. That didn’t look like she was trying to impress, did it?
She settled down to watch the action adventure show on the TV, managing to distract herself for the most part, when she heard tires crunching on gravel and glanced out the window to see Grandpa coming up the drive. It was easy enough to see that Calum was with him, his broad shoulders taking up more than his fair share of the space in the cab.
She stepped away from the window, not wanting to be caught gawking, and poured tomato sauce over the still cooking meatloaf and finished setting the table.
Her hands were shaking, just the slightest bit, and she made a scoffing, disbelieving noise. “Come on, girl, pull yourself together, and stop being ridiculous!”
Though the men weren’t even out of the truck yet, she said the words softly, took a deep breath, and finished laying out the silverware. She turned off the television.
When the men came inside, she kept her tone normal and said, “Dinner’s about ready, go ahead and wash up, and then come have a seat.”
“Ma’am,” Calum said behind her, and Grandpa said, “We’ll be right in.”
She could hear the two of them talking in low tones before they made their way back into the kitchen and Grandpa took a seat.
Calum stood beside her chair and held it out, making her insides warm. She didn’t think a man had done that for her since junior prom when she’d gone out with a super awkward, but earnest, Bobby Miller.
“You go ahead and have a seat, I still have things to put on the table.”
Calum hesitated a moment and then finally took his seat as she placed the meatloaf on the table next to the rolls and salad.
“Help yourself,” she said, as she took her seat.
When they were all served, Mandy tried to ignore the small thrill of pleasure that ran through her as Calum ate his meal with relish.
“This is really good, sweetie,” Grandpa said. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”
“Thank you, but it’s just meatloaf.”
“I’ve never had its like before. Tis truly delicious,” Calum added his compliments.
Again, that childish spurt of pleasure both irritated and warmed her. “Thank you.”
Grandpa looked between the two of them. “It’s Friday night, and the boys are coming over for cards. I was thinking that with us being so noisy and all, maybe the two of you would like to watch a movie at the guesthouse so we don’t disturb you or anything.”
Grandpa looked at his plate as if the food on it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. He popped a bit of carrot into his mouth, met her gaze for a few seconds, and then glanced at Calum with a, help me out here, expression.
“A movie?” Calum asked, looking intrigued. “Like on the telly?”
Grandpa laughed a bit too heartily. “The telly. Is that what they call it in Scotland? Sure, watch a movie on the telly, and that way, we can be as loud as we want without having to worry about disturbing you both.”
She was inclined to reject the idea out of hand, just to be stubborn, but darn it, she actually wanted to watch a movie with Calum. At the guesthouse. Alone.
It wasn’t actually that bad an idea.
She seemed to have some sort of silly infatuation with a skirt-wearing man she’d known for twenty-four hours. Perhaps she ought to spend a little time with him, just so she could get over it. Him. She glanced at Calum, who was looking at her expectantly.
“Would you like tae, lass? I’d enjoy it verra much, if ye’d care tae join me?”
A quick glance at her grandfather assured that he was thrilled with the turn of events.
“My choice of movie?”
“O’ course.” As Calum’s eyes lit, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
This might just backfire, and she had no doubt her grandfather was hoping for exactly that outcome.
And yet, still, she didn’t back out.
Hormones.
Calum figured out how to open some of the canned goods and filled bowls with what turned out to be peaches, something called ravioli, (which was quite delicious) and some olives. There was also a bowl of vegetable beef soup which he thought might need to be heated.
He wanted to be a proper host, after all.
He was still trying to figure out how he might heat the soup when there was a tap on the door. The three dogs at his feet ran to the door and waited patiently for him to open it.
Mandy stood on the other side, a bag hanging from one arm, and a plate of cookies in the other.
Pleasure bloomed within him at the sight of her. She wore a blue dress, a white sweater, and her long dark hair shimmered around her shoulders, half her face cast in shadow from the outside light. A mysterious beauty come to visit. His heart started to pound.
“I hope I’m not too early?” She seemed almost shy, no doubt unsettled by his stare. “Grandpa and the gang are just setting up in the living room, so I thought I’d head on over here.”
“Tis never too early for ye. Come in, please come in.” Calum held the door open wide and scooted one of the dogs back with his foot so she could pass unobstructed into the room.
When he shut the door behind them it was as if an appealing informality suddenly descended upon the space.
For a short while, at least, he had her to himself.
She came to a stop in the center of the room.
“Are you warm enough in here? Should I start the fire?”
“Settle yerself, lass, and I’ll build it.” He hadn’t thought to do so before, and looked around for some logs, but she chuckled and walked over to the wall, flipped a switch, and a few seconds later a fire flared to life behind the glass fireplace.
Astonishment had his eyes widening. “Now, that’s a clever trick, is it no’?” And right handy to his way of thinking. If he thought the place snug before, it was positively intimate now.
He gestured toward the kitchen counter. “I’ve prepared some food for while we watch the movie.”
She glanced over at the counter where he had the bowls lined up in a row, and then she laughed.
Eyes narrowing, he looked at the repast. Had he done it wrong? The guards at Culloden Moor always seemed to be eating when they watched the telly, so he’d thought she’d appreciate the extra rations.
“Is it not tae yer liking?”
She walked over to the counter and considered, setting the plate of cookies down.
She glanced up and gave him a slight smile. “You know what? This is perfect. I can’t seem to eat very much at any given time right now, so I am always hungry a couple of hours later. This is perfect.”
Feeling gratified that he’d thought to provide for her, he found some plates in the cupboard and set them out. “Can I serve ye?”
She smiled and said, “Let’s heat the ravioli first, shall we? And maybe save the soup for another day?”
“O’ course.” He’d heard expectant mothers could be finicky and was glad he’d thought to offer a selection so something, at least, appealed.
He watched with interest as she tore off a napkin from a roll of them, placed it over the ravioli, and put it in the black box above the stove and pushed a button.
The machine automatically came to life, and he watched it spin around, and soon smelled food warming the air.
She took it out, and he could see steam rising from the pasta.
“Now, that is a right clever trick as well.”
She shot him a questioning look, and then divvied the food up on both plates, added peaches and olives for them both, and handed one to him.