My Scottish Summer

by Connie Brockway

  She felt a weight leave her and turned to look at the Hall again. I want to see this castle come alive again. I want to dance in this room with Iain. I want to stay and try to make this thing we have between us work. Whatever happens in New York can happen without me. I want to be here with Iain. She laughed out loud. It had taken long enough to see the light, but she sure saw it now.

  Iain stood at the bottom of the stairs to the Great Hall and listened. He thought he’d heard a woman laugh. He must be hearing things. He’d not slept well, rolled into a sleeping bag in the Hall, and had risen, stiff from the night on the cold stone, to go down to the cellar and fix a cup of tea. I’m too old for this. I should be in a comfortable bed. With Maddie. No, he wouldn’t even think about her. He ran a hand through his hair and went up the stairs slowly, careful not to spill his tea, then stopped when he saw Maddie standing in the arched window. His heart began a slow thumping.

  “Maddie,” he said.

  She turned to face him with a faint smile. “Iain. I didn’t know whether you’d be here.”

  “I said I would be.” He sipped the tea and watched her. “I am.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  He brushed past her and sat in the archway. “I couldn’t either. A bed is always nicer than stone.” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. They conjured up too many images. “Why are ye here, Maddie?”

  “Did you spend the night with Joanie?”

  “What?” He tried to hide his surprise. Her face was scarlet, and he felt like laughing. He’d bet that wasn’t what she’d intended to say. “It’s none of yer business.” He sipped his tea and looked out at the water, watching the light change the gray sea to blue when it touched it.

  “Iain?” He turned to face her. “Can’t we even talk about it?”

  “Me spending the night with Joanie?”

  “No. Us. But did you?”

  “No, Maddie, I did not.”

  “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

  He smiled; he couldn’t help it. He did like the idea of Maddie jealous. “No. I won’t say I didna consider it. But I was only trying to get information from her. She does not attract me.”

  “Good. Now talk to me.”

  “I’m not feeling particularly civilized.”

  She took a step closer. “Talk to me, Iain.”

  He studied her for a moment. Even now, even with the signs of strain apparent in her face, she was beautiful. Why didn’t she go home and leave him alone? “All right,” he said. “What do ye want to hear?”

  “What you’re thinking.”

  He glanced through the window, then took a sip of his tea. “I’m thinking I’m not too happy just now, Maddie. I fell in love with ye. I didna expect it, didna ask for it, and I don’t know how to control it. The sex was brilliant, though.”

  She flushed, but lifted her chin. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? I changed my flight. I’m staying another week.”

  “Won’t that upset Larry?”

  “It did. I’ll probably be fired on Monday if I’m not there. I thought it might please you.”

  “That ye’ll be fired?”

  “No, that I’m staying.”

  He watched her, his thoughts tumbling.

  “I want to try, Iain. Let’s give it another week—”

  “A week.”

  “I thought—”

  “Ye thought what, Maddie? That I’ll be a different man in seven days? Or that we’d have sex for a week, and then ye’d decide if I’m worthy of more?”

  “No, Iain, I love you. I want to stay, I want to see Duntober come alive.”

  He stood up and drained the tea cup. “Too little, too late, Maddie. Go on home.”

  He turned and stalked from the room. Her voice reached him as he started down the stairs. “Good try. I’d give it an eight.”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  “You know, like the Olympics. Good form, lots of drama. An eight.”

  “Maddie, what are ye doing?”

  “I quit my job.”

  “What?”

  “Well, not yet. But I’m going to today.” She turned away and started for the stairs to the terrace. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Iain MacDonald.”

  He stared after her, kept staring even when she was gone. Damn, she made him crazy.

  Iaddie chewed her lip. Maybe she’d played that all wrong. Maybe she should have let him stalk off with his wounded pride. He probably thought she’d gone over the edge. Well, she thought as she walked through the hotel lobby, he’d be right. She had. She felt like it was the last day of school with a long summer before her. When was the last time she’d done anything unprofessional and impractical? When was the last time she’d fallen in love? It wouldn’t be easy to win him back. His pride was hurt and his heart wounded. But he loved her. And she loved him. She’d have to find a way to make it work.

  Sara looked up from the front desk as Maddie went past. “What are ye doing up at this hour? It’s not half past six yet.”

  Maddie grinned. “I changed my flight, Sara. I’m staying.”

  Sara shook her head. “Where have ye been? Did ye…?”

  “Spend the night with Iain? No. But I saw him this morning.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. He’s not too thrilled about the idea.”

  “Maddie!”

  “I’m quitting my job today.”

  “Maddie!”

  “And maybe I’ll start a painting. And I need to get into Iain’s room.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Then talk to him. He’s at Duntober. Call him and ask him if I can have my sweaters and my roses.”

  Sara watched her go up the stairs, but Maddie didn’t mind. Being ridiculous was kind of fun. The euphoria even lasted through the phone call to Larry. She’d waited until seven A.M. in New York, then called his house. At first he’d refused to talk to her and his wife tried to cover it, but finally he came on the line.

  “See you Monday, right?”

  “No, Larry. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Dammit, Maddie, we’ve gone over this. I’ll fire your ass if you’re not there.”

  “So do it.”

  “What?”

  “Fire me. I’m not coming back yet, Larry. What’s the line you love? Do what you gotta do.”

  “What are you on?”

  “Love Potion Number Nine. Skye Love Potion Number Nine. Bye, Larry.”

  She called her mother next, then both of her sisters, and warned them that she might not be coming back, hanging up with the distinct impression that they all thought she’d lost it. She grinned to herself and went to find Sara, to thank her for having the roses and sweaters brought to her room.

  The ceilidh started at eight, but Sara and Maddie had everything ready hours earlier, and Sara went to take a nap while Maddie had a talk with Magnus and Anne. She poured out her heart, told them all of her fears and what she’d done. When she finished, Magnus and Anne had exchanged a look, then Anne had leaned forward to pat Maddie’s hand.

  “He’s a good man, Maddie, but a stubborn one. I wish ye luck.”

  Magnus thought for a few minutes, then nodded. “There are some people, Maddie, who need seven years to know someone. There are others who only need seven days. What have ye talked about?”

  “Everything, Magnus—our divorces, our parents’ divorces, our sisters, about politics and money and working and art and travel. And India, for heaven’s sake! We talked about clothes and furniture and cars. We talked about you and Anne and how much we admire you both and how much we’d like to be your age and still be happily married.”

  “Have ye talked about marriage? About children?”

  “No.”

  “Did ye know Iain’s buying Duntober from me? He’ll be living here.”

  “No, but that doesn’t surprise me. He loves that castle.”

  “Aye. And I love that lad. Maddie, don’t do this unless yer certa
in.”

  “I won’t hurt him, Magnus.”

  “I don’t want either of ye hurt, Maddie. What about yer job?”

  Maddie sighed, then smiled. “I don’t even know if I’ll have one next week. But it doesn’t matter. Being away from the office for this long made me remember that there are other ways to live. I forgot that there is a whole world out here. And I don’t want to go back to that, no matter what. I’m going to start painting again. I’m going to paint the Games.”

  Magnus nodded. “Talk about marriage, lassie. And children.”

  People were arriving as Maddie hurried to get dressed. She could already hear hotel guests gathering on the terrace below, their excited chatter drifting through her thoughts. Pink or green? She had the hardest time deciding and finally wore the pink. It was summer, after all. No more black.

  At eight Maddie was busy helping Magnus and Anne settle their guests at a table near the stage. At nine she danced with Derek, who promptly deserted her when Joanie arrived. At ten she stood alone at the side of the room and watched the dancing, her exhilarated mood long gone. Iain had been here for half an hour, talking on the other side of the room to Derek and Joanie. He’d looked at her once, without expression, then disappeared. Too little, too late, he’d said.

  “Maddie.”

  She turned to see him behind her, wearing a midnight blue shirt over khakis. He looked wonderful, and she smiled tentatively.

  “The sweater looks very nice,” he said.

  “Thank you. It was a gift.”

  He nodded. “Did ye really change yer flight?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about yer job?”

  “I don’t know. We have time to get everything done when I get back. It’ll be tight, but it can be done, and Larry knows that. On the other hand, he says he’ll fire me if I’m not there on Monday. So I don’t know.”

  “What are ye going to do if he lets ye go?”

  “Well, I suspect my days at L & M are numbered no matter what. I was hoping to be offered a better position elsewhere. Perhaps in Scotland.”

  “Ah. Well, Edinburgh has lots of firms.”

  “I was thinking about the brochures for Duntober.”

  “Ye’ll have to talk with Magnus. Those won’t take ye more than a week.”

  “How many children do you want, Iain?”

  He stared at her for a moment. “What?”

  “How many children do you want? Or do you not want children?”

  “Aye, I do.” He gave her a sudden grin. “Ten.”

  “No, no more than three.”

  He shook his head. “Maddie, yer mad.”

  “About you.”

  His expression sobered. “Don’t do this. Don’t play games.”

  “It’s not a game, Iain.” She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “It’s not a game. I just needed to get used to the idea, Iain. Don’t give up on me.”

  He nodded. “Works both ways, Maddie.”

  “I know. We have a week to decide.”

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I have to check Blaven, then I have to get back to Duntober.”

  “Are you still in the race?”

  “With Blaven? Of course. Derek ran him while I was gone. Or did ye mean in the race with ye? That’s for ye to say.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips on hers, then turned and left without a backward glance.

  The Trotternish Games began early, and Maddie was there for the opening parade, next to Magnus, who rose to salute the MacDonald pipers and contestants. It was as colorful as she’d remembered, the competitors, and many of the spectators, in their clan tartans, the reds and blues of their plaids bright against the greens of the grass and the surrounding trees. And beyond the meadow, the sea shimmered in the summer light, blue and silver, the mountains of the mainland an even deeper blue in the distance. Like Iain’s eyes, she thought. She took pictures, then sat by herself to try to sketch it, enjoying the pipes and laughter around her.

  Maddie was in a hushed mood today, trying not to think about tomorrow. Or Monday. Katie had left a message on her cell last night, telling her Larry said to overnight the phone to New York. There had been a new note in Katie’s voice, a quiet triumph that let Maddie know that Katie expected to have her job next week. So be it, she thought. If I’ve learned nothing else from this trip, it’s that life is for living. There is room for work, but there also should be room for people. And for love.

  She loved him. Last night, when he’d been so remote, she felt a wave of yearning wash over her. How foolish she’d been not to throw her arms around him when he told her he loved her. If she ever got the chance to hear it from him again, she’d not make the same mistake. He was as lonely as she was, but he was willing to walk away now, if she let him. What if they did fail? It could happen. They’d each failed before at marriage. How could they know if they’d do better this time? It might be, just as she’d feared, that the attraction was purely physical. They might wake up in a few months and wonder what they’d done. She looked over at Magnus and Anne, Sara and Keith beside them, watching the first of the dancing competitions. Or they might be lucky enough to grow old together, to have children and grandchildren. They might have a wonderful, happy marriage. And live in a castle on Skye. She grinned to herself. Rough job, but someone had to do it.

  The caber competitions began with a flourish of pipes and drums, and Maddie wandered over to see the first throw, sketching frantically. The colors were impossible to duplicate on-site; she wouldn’t even try until later, but she wanted to capture the shapes, the lines of the men’s bodies as they strained to carry the huge pole, then heave it into the air. A shadow fell across the page, and she looked up into Iain’s eyes.

  “That’s very good, Maddie,” he said quietly, looking from her sketchpad to the contest. “May I?” he asked as he took the pad from her.

  10

  He flipped the pages, then caught his breath as he saw the drawings of himself. So many drawings. Of him. He studied each one, then returned the pad to the page she’d been working on and handed it to her.

  “Yer very good, Maddie,” he said. “Ye have a real talent.”

  “Thank you.”

  He met her eyes. “How are ye today?”

  “I’m fine. And you?”

  “Tired. We had a visitor last night.”

  “At Duntober?” He nodded. “What happened?”

  “Derek and I heard the bastard drive through the gates and came down, but he must have seen us, or the light. He was gone when we got there. We had wet down the dirt around the gates, thinking we might get footprints, so he left all kinds of tracks. He drives a Rover, I think, or at least has tires like mine. They’re the same kind of tires that ran through the concrete. If ye see a Rover with scratches and dents on the front, let me know. We have the police looking for it and checking to see if Loomis is back on the island. And Joanie did her best to keep Derek at Trotternish last night.”

  “Iain, he’s getting bolder. This can’t go on.”

  “Actually, I’m liking it. Keeps my mind off other things.”

  “And if he’s dangerous?”

  “He’s a sneaking coward, Maddie. We’ll get him. And soon, I think.”

  “Iain, please be careful.”

  He nodded, then turned as a roar came from the hammer toss audience.

  “Do you ever compete?” she asked.

  “In these Games?” He shook his head. “Never had time. I was always too busy working to even come to see them.”

  “And now?”

  “Now,” he said, watched the sunlight play on her hair as the breeze moved it, turning strands from deep brown to cinnamon, “now I have other things to do.”

  “Iain…” She touched his hand. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I…” He pressed his lips together, then shrugged. “I think New York still has quite a hold on ye.”

  “I see.” She stood up, holding her sketchpad against her chest, the
n reaching down for her bag. When she straightened and looked at him, he could see the anger in her eyes. “Perhaps it does.”

  He was silent as he watched her walk away.

  The Games were well attended and the hotel full of people. The pub and lounge were so busy Saturday night that people spilled out into the parking lot and the center lawn, sitting on the grass under the stars. Maddie didn’t join in. She’d put a brave face on it through dinner, which Iain did not attend, but she was miserable and went to bed soon after. If he’d wanted to put her in her place, he’d certainly done it. All the silliness, all the lightness, had gone from her mood, replaced by a dread that by next week she’d have nothing. No job. No Iain. So be it, she thought. Maybe he wasn’t worth all this. Maybe he was just a stubborn Scot who liked to have his way, on his terms, on his time. Maybe she was better off without him. So why did it hurt so much?

  Sunday’s Games started later, and Maddie spent the morning drawing the field, empty now of competitors, but with all the booths and flags still in place. The wind was brisk today, and everyone was complaining about the lack of rain, worrying about a drought. She loved it. The breeze held the flags out for her to get each detail and brought the clouds billowing overhead, then pushed them out of the sunlight. Summer on Skye was breathtaking, she thought as she headed back to the Trotternish to eat.

  She was back at two, with Sara and Keith, standing at the front of the crowd as the final competitions got under way. She loved to see the children dance, but when a little blond boy danced with wild abandon, his long legs pounding into the stage, she turned away, overcome, remembering Iain’s dance at Magnus’s party. That’s what our son would look like, she thought, and felt a wave of loss that chilled her. She smiled as Sara said something, then followed them to the next contest.

  At four she stood with Anne and watched Magnus thank everyone for attending the Games. The final event, he said, was about to begin, and would everyone please gather along the old road for the horse race. Maddie had tried to leave, not sure she could stand here and smile while Iain competed. If he lost, she’d feel terrible for him. And if he won, it would be a hollow victory for her. But she had no choice. Anne brought her to where the horses had lined up at the starting line, talking to each of the riders, wishing them luck. The men wore kilts and white shirts, their plaids attached with brooches. Some wore boots, some ghillie brogues, but there were no saddles, no stirrups. Iain sat straight on Blaven, his muscular thighs hugging the big horse’s sides, his kilt already high on his legs. Don’t look, she told herself, but she did anyway. Iain smiled at Anne and thanked her for her good wishes, then met Maddie’s eyes.