by Kit Morgan
He studied the landscape. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. You’re right – what are they thinking? Who can find one bird out here? If it were a flock, maybe, but this …”
“They’re asking the impossible?”
“Yes, unless they know something about this thing we don’t and forgot to tell us. Maybe it comes to a certain call or is attracted to some kind of food.”
“Bait?”
“Precisely.”
“The poor thing. I hope it doesn’t think we’re hunting it.”
“It’s a bird, Rufi,” he pointed out. “It doesn’t know much.”
She glanced at the flower in her hand, fixed it in her hair and smiled at him.
C.J. smiled back. “Purple looks good on you,” he said softly, then caught himself, swallowed and turned away.
“Thank you,” she said just as softly. “You know, it’s funny … here we are … alone …”
He glanced around. The MacDonalds were still nowhere to be seen. “So it seems. But I’m sure they’re within earshot. He cupped a hand to his mouth to yell.
“Don’t!”
He smiled. “Afraid I’ll scare the bird?”
“Yes,” she insisted.
It was a valid point. “Very well, let’s start searching.”
“How?”
C.J. smiled and offered her his arm again. Big mistake! his mind screamed. But common sense wouldn’t win him Rufi Cucinotta, certainly not against the likes of the marvelous Melvale. He had to take some risks – and she was worth risking for.
She smiled shyly, wrapped her arm through his, and off they went, watching the ground for signs of the mystery bird. But C.J. would be lying if he’d said his mind was on the search.
They strolled through the flowers and grass for a while before Rufi noticed a change in the air. The sun had set and the evening was growing cooler. Perhaps she should have brought a shawl? Walking arm in arm with C.J., she didn’t need one. He was a good source of warmth as long as she stayed close. Still, she was nervous. “Shouldn’t the MacDonalds have rejoined us by now?”
“Not if Mr. MacDonald found something else to hunt besides the bird.” He looked at her. “You know what?”
“What?”
“No one has told us this bird’s name. Other than ‘Clyde.’ What is it called? There are roosters, robins, parrots, finches, peacocks. What’s this thing?”
“Oh, you’re right. I wonder why no one has told us.”
“I don’t know, but the more I think about it the stranger it is. I guess with all the excitement it’s stirred up, no one else has thought to ask either …”
Something stirred in the high grass ahead, and C.J. automatically shoved Rufi behind him. “What is it?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. Stay behind me.”
She did, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t familiar with this place. What kind of wild animals lived here?
The grasses stirred again. C.J. drew his gun.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Shhh.”
She snapped her mouth shut. Was it the bird or something else? She tiptoed behind him as he slowly inched forward. The grass moved back and forth in short jerks. Something was definitely there. Her heart beat faster. “C.J. …”
“Quiet,” he whispered. “You’ll scare it.”
Rufi cocked her head as she watched C.J. move toward the rustling grass. Something in her stirred, a tiny spark of … what?
A jackrabbit leaped past them, and Rufi yelped in surprise, a hand to her chest. “Oh mio Dio!”
He laughed at the startled look on her face, even as he worked to calm his own breathing. “It’s all right. Just a bunny … oh my.”
She recalled Calvin’s remark about boy and girl bunnies and backed up a step, hugging herself as a chill went up her spine. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Nor was I, but it’s fine.” He offered his arm again. “Are you cold?”
“No, just … it frightened me. Silly thing.”
“You or the rabbit?” He smiled, letting her know he was teasing. “Don’t worry, just stay close.”
That made sense – who knew what else they might run into out here? She wrapped her arm through his again. “Are there snakes in this area?”
“All kinds, I would imagine.”
She gulped. “Rattlesnakes?”
He stopped and made a show of patting the gun at his hip. “That’s what this is for.”
She gulped again. As a daughter of Eve, she didn’t care for snakes. She’d tolerate them if she had to (and she’d had to a lot over the years, between six younger siblings and three prankster uncles), but avoiding them, poisonous or not, was best in her book. She noticed C.J. studying her. “What is it?”
“You’re afraid of snakes.”
She turned away, embarrassed, but he tucked a finger under her chin and brought her face back around. “It’s all right, Rufi,” he said gently. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
And then it hit her. For the first time in her life, a man outside the Weaver family was looking out for her. He meant every word too – she could see it in his eyes. “Thank you.”
He drew closer, his eyes roaming her face. “You put up a tough front, you know.”
Now that secret was out. She licked her dry lips. “I am tough.”
He smiled. “I know. But not as tough as you pretend sometimes. And I’d guess you’re so busy taking care of others, you don’t always get to take care of yourself.”
She gasped. “How did you know?”
“Well, I may be an only child, but I can see that having to help out with all those children doesn’t leave you much time. You watch them so your older sister and all your aunts and uncles can have a break, am I right?”
Rufi stared at him as another chill went up her spine, but not from the evening air. He was speaking a truth she – and her family, to be honest – had long ignored. And she’d been growing increasingly resentful over it. She looked away again. “Yes, I admit it.”
“There’s no shame in it, honey.”
She faced him. He’d used that word in a tone of voice that said it was only meant for her. The thought made her chest warm and put a smile on her lips.
His eyes went straight to them, then he swallowed and took a sudden interest in the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for … well, just looking.” He let go of her and bent to examine the grass and flowers.
“For what? Tracks? In this grass?”
“You never know.”
She sighed as disappointment sank into her chest. He’d looked like he wanted to kiss her! And for a flash, she’d wanted him to. But … he was a gentleman, and he forbore. She felt she should be glad of that. She wasn’t, really.
She shook her head. Yes, she was only visiting, as was he from the sounds of it. As were Melvale and the others. After a time they would go their separate ways. But part of her wanted the moment to last forever, even if it meant a scandal. Frankly, she could use the excitement …
“Rufi!”
She turned and found him on his knees in the grass. “What is it?”
“Look!” C.J. stood, held up a single purple-and-green feather and grinned. “Wait until the others see this.”
“We found something!” Rufi cried. And without thinking, she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
Chapter Eleven
C.J. gasped the moment she grabbed him – it was like being hit by a lightning bolt! He’d been attracted to pretty women before, but had never experienced anything like this. What on Earth was it?
Rufi released him, then stared at the feather in his hand. “How wonderful!”
He was surprised it was still there – he’d thought he dropped it when she launched herself at him. “Yes. Should we find the MacDonalds, or keep looking for the bird?” He glanced around some more, still regaining his wits. “Probably best to keep lookin
g while we still have some light.”
She’d taken several steps back by now and, cheeks pink, nodded. She must have realized what she’d done.
He smiled before examining the feather. It was dark purple at the base, almost black, but passed through indigo and blue before reaching an emerald green at the tip. “It’s pretty.”
“Yes,” she said, drawing closer again. “How long do you think it’s been here?”
“I have no idea, but I don’t think very long. It’s in perfect condition.”
She took it from him and ran a finger over it. “So soft …”
He looked at her. “Yes, very.”
Her eyes met his. She smiled shyly and turned away. “Should we continue this way?”
He sighed. For a moment he thought … he shook his head. Better to keep looking. Rufi Cucinotta was likely no more interested in him than the jackrabbit that startled them earlier. She’d reacted to his discovery, nothing more. “Yes, let’s.” He walked past her. Maybe he shouldn’t feel so disappointed – after all, they hadn’t spent much time together. Even if he’d been courting her, he couldn’t expect her to make up her mind about him after only one outing. She would have to get to know him as well.
Problem was, Grandpa Rufus didn’t want anyone to know he was the heir to a fortune. It was one of the reasons he liked getting to know Cyrus. The old man was one of the richest men in the country, but he didn’t act, dress or live like it. One would never know unless he told them, or maybe if they were involved in the shipping business.
Rufi caught up to him, hugging herself. “It’s getting cold.”
He looked at her arms, covered in gooseflesh. “Here.” He offered his arm. “Stay close to me, you’ll be warmer.”
“Thank you.” She took it, and shivered.
“Maybe we should turn back.”
“No, I can look a little longer,” she insisted. “We still have some light.”
He looked at the sky. “Not much. Let’s hurry.” They split up and searched through the grass, circling the area where they found the feather. But soon it was too dark and they had to start back. Not once had the MacDonalds joined them. Where could they be?
“Rufi?”
“Yes?” She turned to face him. In the starlight she looked like some sort of angel. He stopped breathing. She took a step closer and the light behind her grew. It was a beautiful sight.
“C.J.?” she said with urgency.
“I’m fine!” he blurted, then coughed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, coming closer.
“Nothing,” he said between deep breaths. “Just … ah, it’s nothing.”
She watched him a moment. “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sick?”
“Trust me, please. I’ll be okay.” He wanted to laugh. Maybe he was sick – in the head, for thinking there was something between them. She was no more concerned than anyone else would be. And what could he tell her – you literally took my breath away?
She looked him over. “We’d better head back.”
He nodded and offered her his arm again. She stared at it in concern before taking it. They started off in silence.
After about ten minutes, they caught up with the MacDonalds. C.J. nodded at the four large rabbits the man carried in his hand. “Good hunting, I see,”
“Aye, a wee bit o’ fun.”
“Do you know how to cook them?” Rufi asked. “I make a good rabbit stew.”
“Do ye, now?” he smile. “Weel, I’d give ye a chance, but my wife will take care of them.”
Mrs. MacDonald’s eyebrows rose. “I will, will I?”
“Aye, ye will.” He glanced down at her. “I’m sure Essie will love them.”
“Ohhhh, yes, of course.”
“Essie?” Rufi said, looking between them.
“I have a … pet.” Mrs. MacDonald smiled warily.
“You’re going to cook those up for your pet?” Rufi said in surprise. “But there’s enough there to feed …”
“‘Tis a verra big pet,” Mr. MacDonald interjected. “But dinna worry, lass, none will go to waste.”
“I should hope not,” she said, her eyes now on the rabbits. “Those would feed my whole family. Those that are here, I mean.”
“How many of you are there?” C.J. asked out of curiosity.
She smiled. “Twenty-six altogether. You’ve met less than half of us.”
“My, you do have a large family.” Mrs. MacDonald smiled at C.J. “And what about you, Mr. Branson?”
“Just my grandfather and I, I’m afraid.”
Mr. MacDonald cocked his head to one side, studying him. “Do ye like large families?”
C.J. couldn’t help but glance at Rufi, who was looking right at him, obviously waiting for his response. “Yes, sir, I do. I’ve often wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up in a family such as Rufi’s.” He looked at her and smiled. “They seem like a lot of fun.”
She laughed. “Yes, but they’re also stubborn and set in their ways. Sometimes very hard to move.”
“What do you mean?”
She made a circular motion, thinking. “Once they make up their mind about something, it’s hard to get them to change it. Especially the boys.” She looked at them each in turn. “And it doesn’t matter if it’s a Cucinotta or a Weaver. We’re all pig-headed.”
Unable to help himself, C.J. chuckled.
“It is true!” she cried.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because only the truth is funny.” His shoulders continued to shake. She was riled, but she was beautiful when she was angry. He had to remember to breathe as he looked into her eyes, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away. She’d captured him somehow.
“Mr. Branson?” Mrs. MacDonald prompted. “Did you find anything?”
“Oh, yes!” Rufi smiled at him. That shook him from his stupor enough to pull his gaze from hers and hold up the feather.
“Oh my, look at that.” Mrs. MacDonald smiled at her husband. “It must be close.”
“Aye.” He looked around warily. “Best we tell Melvale.”
“Will he want to come search with us?” Rufi asked.
C.J. heard the excitement in her voice. So much for hope.
“I canna say, lass. Melvale does things his own way. He may hunt for the wee beastie in the middle of the night for all we ken.”
“Why would he do that? And why alone?”
Mrs. MacDonald shook her head. “We stopped questioning how Melvale does things a long time ago.”
“You’ve known him a long time, then?” Rufi asked.
Mr. MacDonald shrugged. “Long enough, lass. Let’s get this to him.” He turned and silently headed off, his wife following just as quietly.
Rufi frowned, then whispered, “There’s something strange about them.”
C.J. glanced between her and the retreating couple. “They seem perfectly normal to me.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re probably right. What would I know? I hardly see anyone but my own family, day in and day out.”
“Don’t you go into town now and then?”
“‘Now and then’ can be every other month, or less.”
“ I see.” He sensed her frustration. “That must be hard.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, I love my family, all of them. But …”
“But you want more?”
She looked at him with those big brown eyes, and he caught the tears forming before she looked away. “There’s a whole world out there. I just can’t get to it.” She strode off.
C.J. watched her go, her skirts rustling through the grass, and sighed. The poor dear. He knew what it felt like to long for more. So much more …
“Are you coming?” Rufi called back to him.
C.J. nodded and trotted to catch up.
Shona glanced over her shoulder at the pair behind them. “He seems quite taken with her. Did yo
u notice the way he looked at her?”
“That ‘girl’ isna much younger than yerself, Flower.” Dallan winked at her. “Marriage has aged ye, no?”
She smacked him on the arm. “You know what I mean.”
“Aye,” he sigh. “He’s smit. A good thing, as far as Cyrus and the lad’s grandfather are concerned. But she doesna seem interested.”
“I think they’d make a lovely couple.”
“Mmmm … she’s feisty. Can he handle her, I wonder?”
Shona giggled. “I’m sure he can.”
He smiled. “Ye were no easy to handle, M’eudain. At least no at first.”
She gasped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Dallan laughed. “Only that we had different circumstances. Everyone does. What happened to us may no happen to them. What happened to Duncan and Cozette, that was another circumstance. As with other couples we’ve met since we wed.”
“Which have not been many,” she said. “Do you think Melvale will find the bird?”
“He’d better, or there’ll be trouble. Ye ken how dangerous the thing is.”
“Yes. I still can’t believe it was kept as a pet.”
“Weel, we have Essie.”
“But Essie is trained, and we have plenty of help with her. Not so with … what did they call it again?”
He looked at her and arched an eyebrow. “Clyde.”
Shona giggled, took his hand and squeezed it. “It is hard to fall in love with the right person.”
Dallan chuckled low in his throat. “It’s hard to fall in love at all for some, Flower. Pain, fear of change, feeling unworthy.”
She said nothing for a time as C.J. and Rufi lagged about twenty yards behind, well out of earshot. “What pain do they have?”
Dallan glanced over his shoulder. “I dinna ken. But she’s got something that will pain him if he doesna handle it right.”
“You mean …?”
“Aye. Her uncles may beat him to a pulp if he gets too close. They’re a verra protective family, if ye havena noticed.”
“I have, which worries me. Poor Rufi will not have a chance with any man with relatives like that.”
