by Diane Darcy
He waited until she moved past him to sit on the couch, and then he joined her.
When she set her plate upon the low table, he did the same.
She picked up a rectangular black box, pushed a button, and the television in front of them flared to life.
“DVD or Netflix?”
“Whatever ye like, lass. Yer choice, remember?”
She looked at him as if to gauge his sincerity. “All right, you asked for it.”
He’d gotten much more than he’d asked for or deserved, and was well-pleased. “So I did.”
She wasn’t going to try and fool herself. This was a date.
She was six months pregnant and was on the first date she’d been on in two years.
Talk about bad timing. Weird timing? She didn’t know.
Sitting beside Calum, relaxing back into the well-worn couch with her feet on the coffee table, she found herself watching Calum’s reaction to the movie more than the movie itself.
“So, they’re tae steal the document so the villains doonae pinch it first? Can they no’ stop them another way?”
She bit her lip at Calum’s worry and concerned expression. His eyebrows pulled together and he was tapping one booted foot, one fist clenched on a thigh.
She’d considered several genres before choosing National Treasure, a favorite movie of hers. It had romance in it, but it wasn’t a romance, which would have made her feel awkward in the circumstances.
But it was sure fun watching him act like it was the most suspenseful movie he’d ever seen.
Good thing she hadn’t gone for horror.
A long time later when the movie finished and she turned off the TV, Calum turned to her, looking slightly breathless. “Tis better than Shakespeare.”
She grinned. “You think so?”
“Aye. The man was cunning, decent, and wise.” He sat in silence for a moment, awe in his expression as he contemplated the character.
His gaze slid to her. “Think ye would want such a man?”
She shrugged, wanting to keep it light. “Sure. But you should know that the two of them end up unhappily married in the next show because he’s sort of a know-it-all and it kind of gets on her nerves.”
His mouth parted as he seemed to think that over for a moment. “Aye. There is always the reverse, is there no’? Good and bad in most everything?”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“I’ve had much time to think on such things.” He was quiet a long moment, almost seeming to fall into melancholy, and she moved her knee so she could nudge his.
“And?”
He focused on her again. “Sorry, lass. Time-worn thoughts, not worth mentioning.”
She ought to take that as her cue to leave, but tucked one leg under herself and settled in for a story. She wanted to know more about him and, as they were just friends getting to know each other, why not?
“I wouldn’t mind hearing more of these time worn thoughts.”
Uneasiness, and maybe a bit of alarm crossed his face. He suddenly looked like he’d wanted to be anywhere but there.
Her intent certainly wasn’t to make him uncomfortable. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you certainly don’t have to.” And really, maybe it would be for the best. The closer she got to Calum, the more she befriended him, the easier they might actually fall into a relationship.
And she knew how that worked out, didn’t she?
“Tis no’ that. I’m simply taking a moment tae gather my thoughts. What do ye know of Scotland, lass?”
“Not a lot, I’ll admit. Highlanders, Loch Ness Monster, beautiful mountain ranges, heather, bogs, and kilts,” she gave him a pointed look.
“Did ye say Loch Ness Monster?”
“Yes.”
He looked completely distracted now. “And just when did this monster appear, lass?”
“Have you been to Loch Ness?”
“Many a time, though I was never attacked by a monster. I fished my share of trout out of the lake, and was attacked once by a clan of Fergusons, but my mates were with me and that was all in good fun.”
She grinned at him. “Fun, huh?”
He grinned back. “Just a group of lads out for some sport. I acquired my favorite knife out of that wee altercation.”
“Glad you didn’t turn up empty-handed.”
“Tis a story for another time. I was going tae tell you of my time upon the moor.”
“Oh, Scotland’s moors. I forgot to list that one.”
He smiled at her. “Aye, we’ve those aplenty. I was given tae understand from yer grandfather that yer heritage is Scottish.”
“Yes. And red hair is definitely in the family, though it skipped me, obviously. But I have hopes for my little one,” she said, patting her stomach.
“Oh, ye like red hair, do ye?”
She could tell from his tone that made him happy. “Maybe I do. I don’t want my child to have plain brown hair like mine, that’s for sure.”
“Yer hair is beautiful. Like rare silk, or polished mahogany, rich, dark, shining.”
Wow, she thought as pleasure rolled through her, but what she said was, “Huh. Don’t try and flatter me. I won’t fall for it. I know I dress a little more modestly than most, and maybe I have an old-fashioned style. Maybe it comes from being raised in the country. I don’t know, I just know I’m not the type that inspires a second glance.”
He slowly straightened, his brow furrowing. “What are ye saying, lass? I’ve been around a long while, seen things, and traveled a bit in my youth. I can honestly say I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as ye.”
Was he serious? He looked it, like he meant every word he said. She wanted to laugh, to breathe, but something stopped her, his intensity and sincerity maybe.
A warm and happy glow filled her as she sucked in oxygen. If he wanted to think that about her, who was she to tell him otherwise?
She cleared her throat. “Quit changing the subject. You were going to tell me something about a moor.”
He was still smiling, but she could see he immediately lost some of his animation. He must have quite a story.
“I imagine ye’ve heard of the war between two Kings trying to claim England’s and Scotland’s throne and the rebellion it inspired?”
“Oh, boy, after the way that you were impressed by my college degree, I’m going to have to let you down and say … vaguely? What year was this?”
“I suppose the year that matters most, is 1746.”
He was suddenly very serious and she couldn’t look away from him. “What happened then?”
Chapter 7
What happened, indeed.
Calum tilted his head back, looking inward, as he tried to decide what he should, and should not, tell Mandy.
He understood that the Battle of Culloden was hundreds of years in her past, in a country she was unfamiliar with, and had naught to do with her.
At the same time, he was planning to marry this woman.
He knew that truth and honesty were important between spouses. But if he bared his soul and let her know exactly who he was, she’d no doubt want nothing more to do with him.
“Charles Edward Stuart came from across the sea,” he started out slowly, trying to choose his words with care. “Ye might know him as the Young Pretender, or Bonnie Prince Charlie.”
When he hesitated, she nodded for him to continue.
“With the support of the French, he landed at Eriskay to initiate yet another Jacobite uprising, intending to place his father, James Stuart, on the thrones of Scotland, England, France, and Ireland, thereby ensuring his own succession.”
He turned to look at Mandy. “Understand, I might not have believed in the cause in the beginning, but there was never a chance that I’d not join the fight. As a Milne, I was under Lord Gordon’s command, and where he said to follow, I was obliged to go.”
“Are you talking recently, or hundreds of years ago?”
He could s
ee he was already confusing her.
“You are telling this story like you were there, a part of it.”
He bit the inside of his lip as he tried to decide how to proceed. He sensed she wasn’t ready to hear the whole of it. Someday, he promised himself, he’d tell her the entire truth.
“Sorry tae confuse ye, lass. This was hundreds of years ago, but some of the feelings from that time have spilled over onto the soil of today. There are those who still remember.”
She nodded. “Here in America we have Civil War reenactments. Were you involved in something like that?”
She was asking if he was playacting. He’d seen the films at the Culloden visitors center and witnessed reenactments on the field, and many a tour of the battlefield. Hosts for such events often dressed in full regalia. So, that was as good as any explanation he could come up with, and he gave a quick nod. “Aye, that is the way of it.”
“Okay, tell me more. I’m glad to hear it, as really, it’s part of my history too, just many generations removed at this point.”
He relaxed back onto the couch. “The prince rallied support for his cause, going from village to village, gathering forces, and finally staging and winning battles, until the cause itself came to seem a just one. Even to me.”
“Even to you? All these years later?”
He bent his head, determined to figure a way to tell the story credibly.
“As I said, it seemed a just cause at the time. In the years since, there’s been thought as to why we would have given our lives to a war that had so little to do with us.”
She was silent now, waiting for him to continue.
“There were families to raise, bellies to feed, and with so many young men off to fight, life became intolerable for everyone involved.”
“It sounds sad.”
“In retrospect, it was. Mostly misguided is how I see it now. We put our faith in a doomed cause, with a weak leader, and ended up casualties in a war of politics and religion that should have had naught tae do with us.”
“And when the war ended?”
“When it was over, clans and families were driven out of Scotland in droves, and went to the New World to start over again.”
She nodded. “The Highland Clearances. Did your family go to America?”
“There was only my grandfather at that point. I tried tae find his grave only recently, but didnae have any luck. Perhaps he went to the New World with the rest of them, but knowing him, he did no’. There’s no way to say for sure. I guess I’ll find out in the next life.”
Mandy reached out and took his hand. “I can see your family history means a lot to you. I’ve lost my parents and my grandmother, and so I understand how it feels to lose loved ones.” She seemed to want to say more and finally took a breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make light of this, but wasn’t this hundreds of years ago? Did you mean you were looking for one of your great grandfather’s?”
“Just so,” he agreed, not wishing to confuse her further. He gently held her hand in his and placed his other hand atop it to enclose her fingers completely.
She might not understand the timing of events, but she did understand the way he felt, and a kinship, a bond seemed to form and flow between them as she allowed the liberty, placing her other hand over her stomach.
Wrapped in blankets, the fireplace flickering in the background, holding her hand, Calum honestly could not remember ever being this content.
It was scenes like this one that had tortured him and the other young men upon the moorland. Thoughts of what they’d missed out on: wives, children, a future.
Sitting here with Mandy, her hand warm in his, it was a dream fully sprung to life, and he dared not move in case it dissipated like mist upon the heather.
Mandy, her hand and arm still covering her belly, was looking down when she said, “You know, I’m only twenty-six, so you might think I’m too young to have given up on getting a husband and family in the normal way.”
The moment was fragile, and he did not dare say a word, or move so much as a muscle.
“This might seem selfish to you, but if anything happens to my grandfather, then it will just be me. I’ve got some distant cousins that we see occasionally, but no one close, you know?”
She glanced at him and he nodded for her to continue.
She looked away again. “I’ve had the bad luck to have a couple of relationships that have ended poorly, and to tell you the truth, at the end, I was glad not to have any reason to have to see them again.”
Sudden tension had his shoulders bunching, his hands clenching over hers. “Ended poorly how, lass? If ye’ve need of vengeance, I’ll take care of it for ye.”
She laughed, the sound happy, her pleased expression warming him far more than the heat from the fire.
“Like I said, I’m glad to have seen the last of those guys, want nothing more to do with either one of them, and I don’t have a burning desire for vengeance.” She grinned. “Though I do appreciate the thought. It was just sort of good riddance, if you know what I mean?”
“I do, actually.”
“Anyway, having a baby alone, seemed like the perfect solution. Still does. No hubby to break up with or share custody with later. And I’ll have a blood relative. Triple win as far as I’m concerned.”
Indignation rose within him at the thought of her having to come to such conclusions. He did not want to chase her away, however, so he kept his tone as gentle as possible when he said, “Were I yer husband, ye would never have reasons tae wish me gone.”
This time when she looked up at him, she didn’t shy away, and as he stared into her beautiful brown eyes, he heard a slight intake of breath, a gasp, and the feminine sound triggered something bold within him.
Careful. Careful.
She was looking at him like he was a hero, making him feel like he was Hercules, Achilles, and Adonis all rolled up into one.
What he wouldn’t give for her to look at him like that forever. It took everything he had not to scoop her up, drag her across his lap, and take her mouth with his.
Claim her as his own.
The moment lengthened, and just when Calum thought he would break and act upon impulse, she pulled her hand away from his and broke eye contact in the same moment.
He heard her swallow.
He drew in a breath, a deep gulp of air, and settled himself back against the couch to stare into the fire once again, to collect himself.
She turned toward him. “It sounds like you’ve had some difficult things happen in your life. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Tis the way of life.”
She glanced down and after a moment shook her head and looked up again, brown eyes serious. “You know, that’s true. None of us get out of this life unscathed, that’s for sure. I’d say from what I’ve observed, we’re all on a scale somewhere in the middle. Bad things happen, good things happen.”
Her gaze was suddenly intense. “What are some of the wonderful things that have happened to you?”
The question sort of hit him in the gut. For one thing, he did not wish her to think he only dwelled upon the rough aspects of his life. He didn’t, did he?
He thought back, almost desperate in an attempt to come up with something that would please, or at least amuse her. And suddenly, as if spread out before him, were snatches from his childhood. “I ran about with a lass named Eleanor. I did no’ really think of her as female, so much as a companion. We were both dirty, grubby, and into mischief. Climbing trees, catching tadpoles, spying on the Gordons, Grants and Dempsters.” He stopped for a moment, remembering.
“Go on.”
“I remember one particular day, we hiked to some old ruins north of Huntly Castle. We used some of the stones and built a fort. We took turns defending it from each other, or, together against imagined English invaders.”
She was smiling, her hand relaxed within his. “Sounds fun.”
“Aye. We caught a fish, gutted it, and co
oked it over a fire. We gathered berries and had ourselves a feast.”
His spirits lifted as he shared this long-forgotten story with her, watched her grin widen.
“By the time we got home that night, it was late, and we’d worried our kin. We both got whippings, and the next day when we met up, both admitted that every strike had been worth it.”
Her beautiful face lit with a smile. “I’m sorry you got whipped for it, but it sounds like a truly remarkable day.”
“It was. I’ve no’ thought about it in years,” he glanced at her, suddenly grateful for her optimistic attitude, her desire to look for the good. She had the right of it. He’d had his share of disappointments, but he’d also had good days, moments of camaraderie to look back on, now including this one. Mandy, her eyes shining, her sweet nature bringing out the best in him.
“Well,” she said, and cleared her throat. “I guess I’d better get going.” Pulling her hand from his she struggled to rise to her feet, and he jumped to his own, gently took her arm, and helped her stand until she was steady.
Then he quickly helped her into her sweater and immediately stepped back and cleared his own throat. “Just, so.”
When she picked up the plate from the table, he was quick to take it from her. “I’ll see ye safely to yer door.”
“Thank you.”
The two of them walked side-by-side across the gravel driveway, the chill air making him wish he could offer her the comfort of his arm around her, but he didn’t quite dare.
All too soon they climbed the porch steps together and she turned and held out a hand for the plate. “Again, thank you. That was fun tonight.”
“It was,” he was quick to agree. “Perhaps tis something we might do again soon.” No one could be more amazed than he at how easily the words spilled from his lips. He’d never been accused of being a ladies’ man, yet with Mandy, everything was easier.
Or perhaps he just didn’t want her to get away.
She opened the door, and then turned back to look at him. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, yet another feminine gesture that tightened his gut. “I’d like that,” she said, and then hurried inside and gently shut the door behind her.