A Highlander in a Pickup

by Laura Trentham

  As if they were dancing and she was following his lead, when he rose, so did she. Somehow it seemed the most natural thing in the world to step into his arms. She rested her cheek on his chest, his heart thumping hard and fast.

  “I missed you last night. I barely slept.” A sigh rumbled through him with an aching melancholy.

  “Me too. On both counts,” she whispered.

  “Will you stay tonight?” His muscles tensed.

  Was she going to miss being with Iain one last time because of pride?

  She slid her hand into the back of his hair and pulled his face down for a kiss. A desperate kiss tinged with foolish hope. His chesty groan vibrated against her, and he swept her into a cradle hold, making toward the stairs without breaking the kiss.

  He lay her on the bed with an unexpected gentleness, his lips leaving hers to catalogue her cheek and temple and forehead. “Anna, love, I wish…”

  Would his wish mirror hers? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. He stood and stripped his clothes off, then worked her pants and tank top off. This time, he took charge, holding her wrists above her head in one of his big hands.

  His other hand traversed her body, followed by his mouth. The hum of need quickly escalated into a primal scream to be satisfied. Finally, he moved between her legs and pushed inside her, slowly, inexorably, like the tide.

  He let go of her hands, and she clutched him close, his weight and warmth pressing her into the mattress. The sex was slow and sweet, and when she climaxed, a single tear trailed into the hair at her temple.

  He shuddered over her, and she held on to him with all her strength. Exhaustion swamped her, and she was only dimly aware when he shifted them under the covers. She fell asleep in his arms and dreamed impossible dreams.

  * * *

  Anna stirred awake and reached for Iain, finding only cool bed sheets. Bright sunshine had replaced the stormy night. The birds had long concluded their dawn song. The clock next to the bed was blinking perpetual midnight. The power had come back on sometime during her coma-like sleep. Like being doused with ice water, she bolted upright.

  Iain was gone.

  It was a fact she fundamentally accepted like the sun rising in the east. The world still turned despite the crater in her chest where her heart had been. Somehow, in spite of knowing better, she’d held on to the thin hope he might change his mind and stay. Not only did he not stay, but he’d skulked out without even telling her goodbye.

  Anger galvanized her and drove her out of bed. Dressing in her now-dry clothes from the day before, she clomped down the stairs, needing to fill the suffocating silence. She had no time to fume or rail. A dozen final details had to be finished before she could crawl into bed with a gallon of ice cream and a pecan pie.

  A clang on the driveway drew her outside. The steamy humidity was as suffocating as the silence had been. Would she ever be able to take a deep breath again?

  Holt was leaning out of the driver’s side window backing his trailer up to the barn. He climbed out, took one look at her, and hauled her in for a brotherly hug. Anna clung to him and squeezed her eyes shut, but a couple of tears still managed to escape.

  “He’s gone,” she managed to choke out. “He snuck out in the middle of the night, the damned coward.”

  “I know. I took him to the airport.”

  Anna jerked back and slapped Holt’s shoulder. “I swear if we weren’t grown, I’d give you the biggest, deepest wedgie in history. You’d still be singing soprano on Sunday.”

  He high-stepped out of her reach, swatting her with his ball cap. “Damn, woman! Don’t kill the messenger. Or the transporter, in this case.”

  “His flight must have been early.”

  “He’s somewhere over the Atlantic by now.”

  Anna pressed the heels of her hands against her brow, forcing the tears to stay dammed. “Why did I have to fall for a hot Highlander?”

  “I’m sorry if I gave you terrible advice. Although, to be fair, you’re the one who took advice from a bachelor who hasn’t had a serious girlfriend in longer than I’d care to admit. I know nothing about love.”

  Anna dropped her hands and shook her head. “No, you were right. I’m glad I put myself out there. At least I won’t wonder if there was something else I could have done.”

  “I really am sorry, Anna. I thought you crazy kids had a chance.”

  “Me too.” She didn’t even try to fake a smile, but with Holt, she didn’t feel the need to. “I guess you’re here for the animals.”

  “Yep. Mom is missing her goats.” Holt got to work loading the animals, starting with the goats.

  When Holt led Ozzie out, Anna was beset by a fit of affection. She reached out to rub the top of the sheep’s head, but Ozzie snapped at her hand. “You little…”

  Holt laughed and put Ozzie in the trailer followed by Harriet. With one last hug and invitation for a drink later at the pub to drown her sorrows, Holt drove off. She turned in a slow circle.

  The barn was empty. The house was empty. Her heart was empty.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three weeks later …

  Iain worked a finger between his neck and collar. Being strangled by a tie would be preferable to what he would have to endure today. Anna Maitland had arrived at Cairndow for the christening of Annie Blackmoor. He was godfather, and Anna was godmother. They were bound together, just not in the way he had dreamed they might be.

  Wearing his finest kilt in the Blackmoor colors, his da knocked on his doorframe and stepped into the bedroom without having to stoop like he had when Iain was a child. His shoulders hunched forward and his back was slightly rounded. When had that happened? He’d been larger than life when Iain was young. Even more, he’d been the center of Iain’s life.

  “Aren’t you looking smart?” His da’s smile was a rare and bonny sight.

  “Smart or strangled to death?”

  “A bit of both, I suppose.” His da’s smile faded and his expression turned pensive. “It’s been good to have you home.”

  “It’s good to be home.” His tongue stumbled over the words even though it was true—to an extent. He missed Anna like he’d left a limb in Highland. Phantom pains woke him from dreams of her or hit him when he stood on the cliffs and looked out at the endlessness of the ocean separating them.

  Now she was here and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep himself from falling to his knees and begging her for … what exactly? Forgiveness? The last night with Anna had been intense and heartbreaking. He’d had to leave her.

  But perhaps he shouldn’t have snuck out before dawn. He’d thought there was nothing else to say, but he found himself wanting to talk to her as soon as he woke and before he went to sleep and all the minutes in between.

  “I met the American lass earlier. Pretty little thing.”

  Iain stilled, his breath shuddering out. He could feel his da’s eyes on him, and he tried to assemble a sense of normalcy from his frayed emotions. “Anna is indeed lovely, but she’s so much more than that.”

  “Aye. She’s a spitfire. A doer, my old man would say. She whisked little Annie away and sent Isabel for a nap before the ceremony. It’s not often Isabel gets bossed around.” Was that admiration in his da’s slight laugh?

  His da wasn’t keen on ladies in general, probably because of his history, but also because he wasn’t one for making polite conversation. Only Mrs. Mac and Isabel had worked their way into his da’s heart since his wife’s desertion thirty odd years ago.

  “I suppose we’d better get on to the big house, eh?” Iain didn’t wait for his da to answer, but slipped on a tweed jacket that strained across his shoulders but was his only option and led the way to the door.

  Autumn had crept closer to Cairndow, but a warm breeze rose from the south as if Annie Blackmoor was bringing life to the old stones and mortar. Iain took a deep breath. He fought both anticipation and dread at his first sight of Anna.

  Following on his da’s heels, he
entered the house through the kitchens out of habit and convenience. Mrs. Mac was stirring a soup over the burner on a new gas stovetop and directing a young girl who was buttering the top of scones ready to go in the AGA.

  “Ta-ta, Mrs. Mac.” His da whipped off his hat and ran a hand through his still-thick, more-salt-than-pepper hair.

  “They’re in the drawing room. I’ll be up in a tick with tea.” Mrs. Mac had her best dress on under her apron.

  They ascended the narrow stone staircase meant for servants to the wide second-floor hallway. The door to the drawing room was open, and the hum of conversation and laughter echoed off the stone walls.

  His da sidled into the room but remained along the edge like a hare avoiding a snare. He’d always be more comfortable in the gardens or on the moor than in the big stone castle, even after all the years he’d worked at Cairndow.

  Iain hesitated in the doorway, his gaze bouncing around the room until it landed on Anna. Her tartan wool skirt was a feminine version of a kilt. Paired with dark brown riding boots, tights, and a thin, emerald-green jumper, she could have graced the pages of Town and Country and looked right at home at Cairndow.

  She was holding Annie and pretending to eat one of her chubby fists much to the delight of the baby, who squirmed with laughter.

  Why was Iain at all surprised that Anna had charmed a baby when she had so easily put a spell on him? How was he to bear this? He rocked back a step, but it was too late, Isabel had spotted him.

  “There you are.” Isabel tucked her arm in his and drew him toward the baby.

  Anna’s brilliant smile trembled, but she was made of stern stuff, as well he knew, and her voice was steady. “Hello, Iain. Good to see you.”

  “Hello, Anna.” He savored her name on his tongue. While her name had been on repeat in his head and heart, he had done his best to avoid speaking of her, lest his da or Isabel guess at the depth and breadth of his feelings.

  Their gazes caught and held. He had no idea what she was thinking. Did she want to punch him in the gut? Or lower? Did she want to yell at him? Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her?

  Isabel glanced between them, obviously trying to put the puzzle of their disquiet together in her mind. Iain was surprised Anna hadn’t told her best friend everything, but it had become clear soon after returning to Cairndow that Isabel didn’t know about Anna and Iain.

  While he’d been relieved not to bear the brunt of Isabel’s anger over the way he’d left Highland, he’d been disappointed as well. Not being able to talk about Anna had made him question the reality. Had the feelings been real?

  Standing in front of her quelled all his doubts. In fact, time and distance had only strengthened his longing for her, and making polite conversation was torture when he wanted to pull her aside and confess everything weighing on his heart.

  “How is everyone in Highland?” he asked.

  “Good.” She was giving him crumbs.

  “How is your campaign for mayor progressing?”

  “Fine.” Stale crumbs at that.

  With her brows drawn down, Isabel added, “A bit more than fine, I’d say. She got an endorsement from the local paper and from Baxter down at the Chamber of Commerce.”

  Anna gave a one-shouldered shrug. “They’re on board with my progressive platform. The Burns Night Christmas festival will be a go. If I’m elected.”

  “Is Loretta putting up a good fight?” Iain asked.

  “Not really. She seems content to lose, if I’m being honest. Since the almost-flooding of her shop, things have been good between us.”

  Isabel let out an unladylike snort. “Better you than me. I’ll be honest, Loretta scares me.”

  “She puts on an intimidating front because she’s the one who’s scared.” The philosophical edge to Anna’s words was new. “Loretta is becoming—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—a friend.”

  A commotion at the door heralded the arrival of tea and fresh-from-the-AGA scones. Isabel touched the baby’s cheek. “Are you okay with Annie for a bit longer?”

  “Of course I am. I’m going to take full advantage of holding her while I’m here. Video chats will be all I get soon enough.” Anna nuzzled the baby closer. Isabel hurried off to help Mrs. Mac.

  Iain was alone with Anna. The baby cooed at him. Almost alone. He held out a finger and the baby caught it in a surprisingly hearty grip and pulled it to her mouth to gum.

  “Have you been asked to babysit?” Anna asked.

  “Not yet. I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.” The baby grinned and drooled up at him.

  Anna made a scoffing sound. “Please. You’re good at everything. You’ll be great with kids.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”

  Damn, he’d missed her teasing, sarcastic bite. “Alone.”

  Her lips thinned, and she glanced around them. “Later tonight. If I’m not too tired.”

  He wanted to say more, but the clink of a spoon against a teacup stalled him. Everyone gathered around and shared tea and scones before walking to the small family chapel that was hundreds of years old and had overseen countless Blackmoor christenings and deaths. The ceremony was at times touching and funny, especially when Annie bawled her dismay at getting cold water poured over her head.

  Iain made more promises, this time to keep Annie safe, which he had already vowed to himself. Even as everyone else’s attention was on the babe, Iain basked in Anna’s presence and etched every nuance of her expression and the sound of her husky laughter in his memories. These moments would have to live forever to be revisited, because nothing had fundamentally changed in their situation.

  Dinner followed, and he was seated next to Anna at the polished dining table. Conversation at the table was lively, but he barely contributed, unable to concentrate on anyone other than Anna. His knee bumped hers, and his hand glanced across her wrist while reaching for the bread. It was a glorious torture.

  “How’s your mom doing, Anna? Still loving Florida?” Isabel asked.

  Iain stared at Anna’s profile, surprised to see her mouth tip up into a slight smile. “I think some of the glamour has worn off, to be honest. She wants to spend Christmas in Highland. With me.”

  Surprise drew Isabel’s brows up. “Is she homesick?”

  “She said she misses me.” Anna shrugged and gave a little laugh. “I think she’s mellowing. Plus”—she cast a lightning-fast look toward Iain—“I’ve learned people are more complicated than I gave them credit for. My mom included.”

  As dinner wrapped up, Iain’s da made motions to leave. This was a wild night out for his da. He leaned closer to Anna and whispered, “I should walk Da back to the cottage. Can we meet in a quarter hour?”

  “I’m in the green bedroom. I assume you know where that is?”

  “Aye.”

  After congratulations and goodbyes were made, Iain and his da walked shoulder to shoulder toward the cottage. “Let’s take the cliff path,” his da said.

  It was the long way around. Iain quelled his impatience and took the right fork of the path. After ten minutes of brisk walking, the breeze quickened and the inky expanse of the ocean came into view, stretching to the horizon. His da stopped and stared out at the water. Iain joined him.

  “Cairndow has been the great love of my life,” his da said.

  “I love it too, Da.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “Your mum hated it here. She wanted all of us to start a new life in Glasgow together, but … I couldn’t abandon my first love. I insisted you remain with me until she could get on her feet. Looking back, it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t leave Cairndow. Not even for her.”

  Iain blinked and reordered his history. “She wanted me?”

  “Aye.”

  “But she never came back to visit.”

  “She came back a half dozen times. Things hadn’t turned out like she expected in the big city. I tried to get her t
o move home, but she had gotten mixed up with some bad people. She knew leaving you with me was the only choice. Eventually, she stopped coming home.”

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” He’d known in his heart she was lost to him forever.

  “Not long after you turned three. An overdose. I should have been more bendable for her. I should have been stronger and told you the truth of the matter years ago.” A note he’d never heard weaved through his da’s voice. Regret.

  “If you had it to do over, would you have gone with her?”

  “Nay. I belong here.” His da heaved a sigh. “But I would have fought harder to make Cairndow a home for her too. Now, what about you?”

  “What about me?” Iain shifted his gaze off the water to his da.

  “I kept a close watch on you today. I knew something in your heart had changed after you came home, but I couldn’t put my finger on it until today. You love the Maitland woman.”

  Iain was tired of denying his heart, even to himself. “Aye, I love her, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I can’t leave Cairndow.”

  His da’s jaw worked before he found words. “I didn’t try hard enough to make your mum stay, and I live with the regret every day. When you left for the army, I only wanted one thing: to have you safely back at Cairndow. Now I see, it’s not so simple. While you may be safe, you’re not happy.”

  Iain tried to protest, but his da held up a hand. “Only when I saw you with Miss Maitland did I understand the cause.”

  “She can’t pick up her life and move to Scotland, Da.” Iain’s voice was thick with conflicting emotions. Surprise, sadness, resignation.

  “Nay, I don’t expect she could.” His da clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed. “But you could pick up and move to the States. You’ve never wanted to be Cairndow’s groundskeeper, have you?”

  Iain swallowed down the lie that sprang to his lips. He’d come this far. He owed himself and his da the truth. “I haven’t. I love Cairndow and the life you gave me, but I’ve never truly belonged. Even in the short time I was in Highland, I carved a place for myself. The people welcomed me, and I was able to contribute in ways I never dreamed of.”