Angus: A Highlander Romance (The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Book 34)

by Jo Jones

  Now that she’d partially opened the door, ’twas probably as good a time as any to clear his conscience. “ ’Tis my wish tae help with whatever ye need, Lucy, as long as I can. But, since I’ll be movin’ on, soon, ’tis good ye’ve Blake tae help ye. He appears tae be a strong enough lad.”

  A stricken look crossed Lucy’s face and she gave a small shake of her head. “Unfortunately, no. He’s not able…” She glanced curiously at Angus. “Grif said you took him some lunch today. Was he asleep? You didn’t see his—?”

  “I saw.” Angus interrupted, his voice harsher then he’d intended. He consciously softened his tone. “I saw a lad so immersed in a haze of misery he was blind tae anything outside himself.” She’d likely boot him from her lorry as soon as she found out how far he’d gone with the lad. “He reminded me of someone I used tae know in a very similar state of mind. So, I did what helped shock m—uh, him, out of it.”

  “Did?” Her eyebrows dipped in wary confusion. She pulled the lorry to the side of the road and jerked to a stop before turning her entire body toward him. “What did you do?” Before he could answer, she continued. “And what right did you have to do anything?”

  “None.” ’Twas hard to hold her gaze, blazing with anger and fear.

  “Blake is very fragile right now. If you’ve harmed him…” This time her whisper was loaded with an unspoken warning that cut deep, surprising him with the intensity of his regret.

  Taking a breath, he slowly shifted his body to face hers. He shouldna have interfered in something that dinna concern him. Couldna concern him, given his mortal time restraints. What a fool, to think himself the lad’s savior. He wouldna blame Lucy if she booted him from the lorry, nor Soni, if she sent him straight to hell, or at the very least, back to the moor in ghostly shame for his recklessness and failure.

  Above all, he regretted destroying Lucy’s trust in him. The lass was special, but now he’d never get to discover all the little things that made her so.

  “Angus! Answer me!” Impatience colored her words.

  All he could do now, was accept the consequences of his blunder. “I called him a coward.”

  Her mouth tightened, and her gaze turned hard. “You what?”

  “I told him tae stop wallowin’ in self-pity and help himself, because no one else could do it for him.” There. He’d said it. It came out in a rush, but ’twas out, nonetheless. “No’ even you, Lucy,” he finished as her head came up in indignation.

  Wanting to avoid seeing disappointment and anger on Lucy’s face, he looked out the window and waited for her to exact the punishment he deserved. Likely, he should look for a spot to sit and wait for Soncerae to retrieve him, and exact hers, as well. Heroic deed? He’d fallen about as far from that as a freshly-mortal ghost could.

  When Lucy didn’t say anything, he turned back to her, needing to fill the gaping silence. “I know I should be offerin’ ye an apology. And Blake as well. ’Twas clearly no’ my business, but I’d do it again if ’twould shock the lad into takin’ a few steps away from his pain. I’ve seen such a thing work before, and though ’twill make no difference now, I dinna mean tae bring him further harm. ’Twould seem he’s had enough of that. Nor do I wish tae bring ye pain, Lucy. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  When her silence continued, Angus glanced at the tree-lined streets and the tidy rows of well-tended homes, half-fearing Soni might indeed, appear at any moment.

  Odd, how much he suddenly resented being allotted but two days. He liked being here with Lucy, even if she dinna feel the same. ’Twas a shame she wasna the object of whatever grand feat he was supposed to be doin’. There was somethin’ he would relish. But she clearly dinna need rescuin’, and certainly no’ from the likes of him.

  “I’ve tried everything I could think of to help Blake,” Lucy finally said. “I promised my—” her voice cracked, and she swallowed a couple of times before trying again. “I promised my mother if anything ever happened to her or my dad, I’d take care of Blake. But nothing I try seems to work. He resents everything I do or say.” The defeat in her voice all but echoed inside the lorry’s cab. “How did he take it from you?”

  “No’ well.” Angus replied. “Angry, o’course. But I dinna suppose any angrier than before. But now he has me tae focus his resentment on. That, at least, is a shift, is it no’?”

  “It is.” A tiny bit of wonder edged her voice. “The first, to my knowledge. He doesn’t respond to me with anything but irritated silence. He’s the same with Grif. He won’t let either of us inside his pain.”

  “I saw his paintings. ’Tis a marvelous talent the lad has.”

  “Yes.” Lucy nodded. “That’s what makes losing the use of his left hand so devastating. I just can’t seem to get him interested in anything else. I’ve begged him to take over the store’s website. He could do the graphics, content, everything required, with just his right hand. But he won’t discuss anything I suggest. I just don’t know how to reach him, anymore.”

  Hearing the desperation in her voice, Angus recalled how hard he’d worked to keep everyone on the outside of his own pain. Letting them in would be like flying a banner declaring his weakness, for all to see. If he could only help her understand how worthless a man could feel…

  “Grif said the café and store were always yer dream. Is that true?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was hesitant. “Why?”

  “What do ye love most about it?”

  She was silent for a moment, considering. “The challenge, I guess. And the creativity required to build something cohesive out of what often feels like chaos. Despite how hard the work can sometimes be, I do love it, especially the baking.”

  Her face softened and some of the tension left her shoulders. “It’s more than pies, unique items and good, quality produce. It’s about creating an experience. The way a person’s face lights up when they discover a special antique or have enjoyed a good meal. It’s about sharing—and giving back. Bringing joy in some small way.”

  “I ken that strong desire ye have tae create and share something special of value tae others, must be verra important tae ye?”

  “Of course.”

  “Aye. And what would ye do if ’twas taken from ye, with no hope of startin’ again?”

  Her brows dipped as she considered his question while a myriad of emotions played across her face, ending in what appeared to be pure anguish. Tears welled in her eyes, spilled and slid in rivulets down her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip to still her quivering chin.

  “How could I be so blind?” Misery thickened her voice. “I thought if I diverted Blake’s interests to match his current ability, he’d eventually adjust and be okay. But I was really serving my needs. His passion for painting comes from his soul. Making him do anything else would be torture. I’ve been so self-absorbed with my own problems I failed to recognize the full enormity of what he’s lost.”

  Her broken sob pierced Angus’ heart. “I never considered how unfulfilled he’d be doing any of the things I’ve been suggesting. Especially when he’s already lost so much. He must hate me.”

  Lucy’s agony was like a band around his heart. Her beautiful face was red, blotchy and full of sorrow as he reached to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He brushed a tear away with his knuckle and suddenly he was beside her, gathering her into his arms, holding her close, muttering nonsensical things to comfort her, as she wept into his chest and before he knew it, he’d pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  He breathed in her scent, letting it fill him. He wanted to memorize the feel of her, the sensation of her warmth and the way she fit against him. Mayhap Soni should come, after all, before he went too far and destroyed anyone else. He’d been mortal just half a day and already managed to upend two lives. Three if his ghostly soul counted at all.

  Heroic deed, his arse! There was nothing heroic about his desire for her and if he dinna release her quickly, he’d blacken his soul even further. He wanted nothing more than to
trace the path of her tears with his lips. He longed to taste her mouth, to feel her lips yield beneath his.

  She shifted, raised her head from his chest, but didn’t move from his arms. Her expression was a mixture of trust, pain, and something undefined that pulled him closer. Her breath, soft against his chin, mingled with his as he leaned in.

  Had she lifted her mouth to meet his, or had he imagined it? Wished it? The corner of her mouth still glistened from a recent tear. He could almost taste the saltiness of it, and he could think of nothing but kissing it away. When her lips parted slightly, he was lost.

  Did she come to him, or he to her? He dinna ken, nor care. There was only the softness of her lips beneath his and her moan, so slight he might have imagined it. He tightened his arms around her as she met his rising intensity with her own. The shock of it coiled in his belly like a hot spike. They parted for the space of a second, but ’twas too long. When their lips met again, deeper, stronger, he knew if he dinna release her, he’d be lost.

  “Lucy,” he whispered breathlessly, “I—”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh! Oh, my gosh!” She pulled away from him, turning away as much as possible in the narrow space. “I don’t know what to say. Can we…can we just pretend that never happened? Please?”

  “If ’tis yer wish, but I’d rather n—”

  “Please, Angus.” Her voice was so full of desperation, he couldn’t press her further. She started the lorry and pulled back onto the road, hands clenched on the steering wheel, as she chewed her lower lip. Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere but in his direction.

  He slid to the far edge of the seat, feeling chilled from the loss of her body against his. His heated breath clouded the side window as he turned his face until he could be sure Lucy wouldna see the longing he knew remained there.

  Come get me, Soni. Send me anywhere, to Perdition if ye will it, but dinna let me hurt this lass, or her family, further.

  The tree-lined streets gave way to shops and businesses as traffic sounds erased the silence and intimacy of the last few minutes. Car-horns beeped, and the low beat of music came and went from a few vehicles as they passed. Everything swirled by so fast Angus wasna sure where to look first

  “This is it. Ashton Community Caretakers.” Lucy’s voice sounded flat, unlike the soft, melodic tones he’d already become used to. She turned onto a narrow lane beside a large, rectangular building, drove around and stopped near a back door. She turned off the engine but didn’t get out. Instead, she picked at something invisible on the steering wheel. “Thank you…for helping me see beyond myself, with Blake. And for helping him, even if he can’t see things any clearer than I can.”

  “Lucy, I wish—”

  She opened the door in a rush. “Let’s just get these things unloaded, okay? We’re already late getting to the park.”

  “Will ye no’ hear me out?”

  He sighed, as she continued to the back of the lorry, dropped the tailgate and pulled an apple box to its edge. He wouldna push her, embarrass her, or risk angering her further. For now. But he couldna let things remain as they were.

  There’d been much more than a mere need for comfort in her response, and she knew ’twas so, as much as he. He had to discover what it really meant. And whether she wished it, or no’, at some point, he would readdress it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lucy led Angus down a short hall toward the C.C. kitchen, still humiliated by her complete lapse of judgement. She’d kissed him. Or had he kissed her? Twice! Regardless, it was…amazing. And reckless.

  Admittedly, she was drawn to the tall Scot who triggered all sorts of unexpected thoughts and emotions in her. But such impulsiveness would lead to…what?

  His clearly stated intention to leave, presented her with a double-edged sword. She could indulge her attraction, savor a few innocent kisses, and let him go. But what if the magnetism she’d felt from the beginning wasn’t just a passing fascination? What if her indulgence led to something deeper? She’d be setting herself up for disappointment. Maybe even a deeper hurt.

  “Here we are,” she said over her shoulder as they entered a wide kitchen, open to a large common area filled with tables and chairs.

  “Hi Floyd,” Lucy greeted an older man standing at a counter, peeling potatoes and casting occasional glances at a family of six, sitting at one of the tables. The father seemed to be trying to soothe his wife and children.

  Lucy signaled Angus to set the box of apples on the counter beside the pies she’d carried in. “Angus MacLaughlan, meet Floyd Hastings. He runs the C.C. Angus is helping me with the orchard, for a little while,” Lucy explained.

  “Pleased.” Floyd wiped his hands and held one out to Angus, his smile unchanged as he swept his gaze over Angus’ attire.

  “Myself, as well.” Angus said, returning the handshake.

  Lucy glanced at the heaping mound of potatoes waiting to be peeled. “Full house tonight?”

  Floyd nodded. “Along with the rest of the town that’s bursting at the seams.” He gestured toward the young family. “Their car broke down and they can’t pay for a motel room and car repairs, even if there was a motel room available, which there isn’t, so Mac at the repair shop sent them here. I’ve also got several walk-ins and sadly, the Jenkins family finally got evicted. We’d all hoped they could hold out, but it didn’t turn out that way.”

  “Oh, no.” Lucy muttered. “They must be devastated to lose the farm. I’ll come visit Marian and see if there’s anything I can do. Once this festival is—Oh my gosh!” Lucy cried, looking at her watch. “I’m so late!” She turned to Angus, “Will you close the tailgate? I’ll be right there.”

  As Angus left, Lucy stepped closer to Floyd, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Were you able to get that package to the Brinleys?”

  Floyd grimaced. “Yes, I delivered it. I’ve never seen a man act so high and mighty, like it was a bother to stuff that cash in his pocket. Truth is, I know he couldn’t wait for me to leave so he could count it. Lettie was grateful for the groceries, though. You shouldn’t keep doing that, Lucy. The man is capable of working more than the paltry little bit he does. You shouldn’t feel obligated to—”

  “But I am,” Lucy replied, placing her hand on Floyd’s arm. “It’s little enough, and I’m grateful to you for being my front-man. George Brinley is spiteful enough to let his family starve, just to prove what was taken from him. He’d never admit to accepting anything from me, despite his ongoing declarations that our family owes him.” She sighed her frustration. “It’s not Lettie’s or the children’s fault he always needs someone else to blame.”

  “Nor yours.” Floyd stated, giving her a pointed look. “What happened was an accident. Plain and simple. And we all know George isn’t the only one living with the fallout from that day, even if he thinks so.”

  She shrugged and patted his arm again. “I’ve got to run. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Dozens of people were busily setting up rows of colorful booths when Lucy and Angus pulled up at the park. Though on a much smaller scale, the place reminded him of a fair he’d once seen. As a bonded servant, he’d been left to tend the animals and set up tents, but he still remembered the magical excitement filling the air.

  Lucy turned off the engine, sighing as she watched the activity. “I’ve always loved the festival. It’s our town’s way of getting everyone together before harvest and ushering in fall. That and the game. For decades, Ashton and the town up the river, Jefferson, have competed in an annual football game. The entire town, both towns actually, get very involved and the victor wins the honor of displaying the prize until next year’s game. Wining is a big deal around here.”

  “ ’Twould be bonny tae belong tae a place where history, and roots, run so deep.” Angus said, unable to hide the wistfulness in his voice. “The prize must be generous, indeed.”

  “It depends on your perspective, I guess,” Lucy laughed. “The legend is, many years ag
o two very competitive brothers, Ashton and Jefferson, as you probably guessed, came to this area and each founded a town, close to one another. With them, they brought an old ship’s bell belonging to their sea captain father, but they continually fought over who should have it. So, they dreamed up an annual competition. Winner got bragging rights and the bell to display until the next year’s challenge, which eventually evolved into the football game that’s been taking place since before I was born. Despite being intended as a friendly rivalry, over the years the bell has taken on a big significance to the people of both towns. Sometimes it feels like the Hatfields and McCoys.”

  Lucy laughed. “Judging by your puzzled expression and I suppose, being from Scotland, you obviously don’t know about them.”

  Her infectious smile pulled at Angus. He dinna care who they were, he just wanted her to continue talking so he could gaze at her pretty face.

  “Goodness.” She blushed. “Listen to me ramble. I’ve wasted time and bored you in the process.”

  “Nae.” Angus’ attention drifted from the vibrant sparkle in her eyes to the faint dent in her chin. “ ’Twas a lovely story.”

  In telling it, she’d leaned toward him slightly, and like a magnet, his body had responded and done the same. Visions of their kiss filled the space between them and the air suddenly felt far too warm.

  “We should…the apples…” Lucy muttered, her gaze still locked with his.

  “Aye. The apples.” He straightened and glanced away, disappointed and relieved at the same time. He’d almost made another mistake. He’d been sent here to accomplish something of importance, according to Soni. He needed to concentrate on discovering what that was, despite his desire to focus on Lucy, alone. “If ye’ll point out where they’re tae go, I’ll deliver ’em while ye get started on what ye need tae do.”

  “Thanks.” She opened her door and got out. “I’ll get started on the booth for the pie-eating contest.”