by Laurel Kerr
Magnus lifted the cub into his arms, and June swore the little bear sighed in contentment as she snuggled against him. June knew with complete certainty the man would know how to make her purr. Quite happily. But from his reaction to their near kiss, it didn’t seem likely that he’d try.
“We should b-begin filming,” June said, the crispness in her own voice surprising her. She never talked sharply. Never. She’d even stumbled over the word begin, which hadn’t happened in years. During her childhood, b’s had given her trouble, but she rarely had difficulties with them now.
“Aye,” Magnus said, although he didn’t appear happy about it.
“I assume you want to start your vlog series with Sorcha,” June said. My, my, when had she begun to sound so officious? She sounded like a general ordering a forlorn hope.
Magnus nodded.
“Let me get the video equipment. I know where Katie keeps it,” June said. When she left the room, she still felt off-kilter and not in a good way. Magnus was attracted to her but didn’t want to be, and that knowledge ate at her like ten possums after a single ear of corn. She needed to discuss this development with Katie.
When June returned to the room, the taping didn’t go well. At all. The instant Magnus spied the camera, his whole body visibly tightened. He had one hard block after another. She could see the tension in his neck as he tried to force out his speech. Like before, his head jerked as though he could physically push the words from his lips.
She knew better than to tell him to relax. Managing a stutter was a complex process, and hearing someone diminish it into a simple command was as irritating as fleas to a stray. Uninformed suggestions had never helped June as a child, and they still drove her brother crazy.
Unfortunately, June found herself low on patience. Magnus’s tension mixed with her own, making a very bitter brew.
Magnus finally shook his head, his blue eyes dark. He didn’t want to continue. June hid a sigh and flipped off the camera. She didn’t need her talent for reading people to sense the frustration and disappointment rolling off Magnus. She needed to stop stewing over his rejection and focus on her part of the bargain. The man had asked for her assistance, and she’d accepted. He hadn’t promised anything other than to chat with her nana. He’d done that. Now it was her turn.
“What techniques did your speech pathologist teach you?”
Magnus gave her an annoyed look. She fought back an unusual swell of frustration. “I’m just trying to help,” she said, unable to prevent her voice from rising slightly at the end.
“T-T-T-T-Tammay has less than five hundred souls. What makes you think a speech pathologist would be one of them?”
Surprise and empathy burned through her atypical annoyance. “You never had any speech therapy?” Even with her father bouncing the family from military base to military base, her parents had always made sure she and her brother received the best instruction on managing their disfluency.
Magnus’s expression turned even drier. “Does m-m-m-my d-d-d-da slapping me upside my head to stop my stuttering count?”
Ice sluiced through June’s veins. An image ripped through her of a young Magnus standing in front of his father. The boy was vainly trying to force his throat to work properly as desperation darkened his blue eyes. Across from him, his daddy began to ball his hand into a fist. June’s brain yelled for her to stop as a chill invaded every inch of her body. Surely, a parent wouldn’t be so cruel.
“Are you being serious, Magnus?”
He didn’t respond verbally, but she read the truth in his face before he expertly shuttered his expression. This was a man who knew how to cloak his feelings. June started to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. She worried her bottom lip as she debated how to handle the revelation. She was a talker, and when she had a problem, she worked through it verbally.
“Do you want to chat—”
“No,” Magnus bit out the word so fast that even with his Orcadian accent, it sounded harsh and clipped.
June shut her mouth. Her instinct was to push, but her usual tactics didn’t appear to work with Magnus. If she tried to pry more out of him, he’d dash off again. And she didn’t want that.
“You said you don’t stutter as much around me,” June said. “Do you know why? Maybe we can use that to help you.”
Magnus looked at her balefully. “You do not want to know.”
June crossed her arms. She might have decided not to probe into his past, but she was going to help him film the videos. “You have to give me something to work with, Magnus.”
Magnus copied her stance. Since he had more than several inches on her, she had to admit he did it better. She did not, however, back down. Next time, she was going to bring sweets. There wasn’t a human alive who couldn’t be tempted by her jam. Everything in life went better with preserves.
“Have it your way,” Magnus said. “I think it’s because you rip my knitting until I’m fair boiling, and I forget about stumbling over my words.”
June’s nana didn’t use too many Scottish idioms, but her grandmother had always muttered about knitting being ripped when she was madder than a puffed toad. June had even borrowed the expression a time or two, but she hadn’t expected that answer from Magnus. She’d naively thought he stuttered less around her because he found her presence comforting due to her own experiences with disfluency. The real truth caused an unusual flicker of hurt to knife through her. She generally didn’t give a fig what people thought. If someone didn’t like her, there were plenty of others who did. But Magnus…he mattered. Surprisingly so. Even if June could not quite figure out why.
“Well,” June said, plastering on a smile to hide the sting, “that’s interesting.”
Magnus looked surprisingly contrite. “Sorry, but that’s the way of it, lass. It could also be because you don’t try to rush me, and you don’t seem uncomfortable when I get stuck on a word.”
June forced herself to let go of her hurt. Years ago, when kids had teased her because of her stutter, her mama had said, Junie, some people have a lot of hate in their hearts. Don’t let them put it in yours. Instead, try to give ’em love. If that doesn’t work, honey, there are just some folks who are too broke for fixing. That’s their problem, not yours. Life will be happier if you just learn that one truth.
“I was always the opposite,” June said. “When I got as angry as a wet hen, I couldn’t get a word out.”
Magnus studied her, his blue eyes searching. She resisted the urge to shift under his scrutiny. She was accustomed to doing the analyzing and not the other way around.
“Is that why you smile so much, lass?” Magnus asked when he finally spoke.
June’s lips parted. An odd feeling swept through her, almost as if she’d flown out of her body and was staring back down at herself. “I suppose you’re right. I never really thought about it.”
One corner of Magnus’s mouth lifted upward. The lopsided smile added a touch of softness to his stern features, and June felt an answering tug in her own heart. She wondered what the man would look like with a full grin.
“I’ve never met anyone as jolly as you. I swear your smile could b-b-b-badger the storm clouds into hiding.”
On the surface, the words sounded like something a lover would whisper. But Magnus didn’t say them as a compliment…more of an observation. There was a tiny thread of affection in his voice, the kind one would have for an eccentric aunt. And June had no trouble detecting his exasperation.
“Do I baffle you, Magnus?” she asked.
He laughed then, his chuckle deep and loud. It bounced off the walls, startling both Sorcha and Sylvia. The little bear jumped and then lost her balance. She landed with her short legs splayed in all directions. The capybara used her sizable snout to help the cub regain her balance.
“Aye, lass,” Magnus said, “you baffle me.”
; “You baffle me too,” June admitted, “and that’s unusual for me.”
“I am a simple m-man, June. You are trying to m-make me more complex than I am.”
June shook her head. “No. I don’t think that is it. You’re as layered as two onions growing together.”
“You’re looking too hard, lass.”
“Maybe you aren’t looking hard enough,” she countered.
“There’s no use arguing,” Magnus said.
June nodded in agreement. There wasn’t. She was right, though. The stubborn man just wouldn’t admit it. She glanced at the camera. “When’s your deadline for posting?”
“Th-Th-Th-Th-Three days. I told my editor and agent I needed t-t-t-time.”
“I think we should call it quits for today and try again tomorrow,” June said. There was no use forcing it. Magnus was too frustrated. Back when June stuttered, her favorite speech therapist, Miss Sue, always knew the right time to take a break.
Magnus scowled. “Aye. Not that it will be much different.”
June reached out and patted his hand. His eyes flitted down, and he watched her action as if it was something foreign to him. She’d thought about what he’d said about his da and wondered whether he’d received much physical affection growing up. If she remembered correctly from his first book, he’d mostly mentioned his father and rarely his mother. June had some recollection the woman had abandoned the family, but she wasn’t sure. If that was the case, Magnus would’ve had no place of refuge, no comforting words when his daddy struck him for stuttering.
“You’ll do fine,” June said. “It doesn’t have to be perfect either. A little bit of disfluency wouldn’t be bad.”
Magnus looked as if he wanted to protest. But before he could speak, Bowie popped his head in the doorway. He was breathing hard, and his lips were pulled into an atypical frown. Shoving his hand through his sweat-soaked black hair, he asked, “Hey, Magnus, sorry to interrupt, but would you be able to give Lou and me a hand? We’re trying to apply salve to one of the llama’s legs, and I’m having trouble holding her still.”
“Aye,” Magnus said. “June and I were finishing up anyway.”
As soon as the men left, June headed for her tote bag. She’d brought her copy of Magnus’s book from the library in case she had some time alone with the cub. Nan was at the house with Abby and Katie, and June had volunteered for at least another hour. With Sorcha playing happily on the floor, she had time for research.
Although stuttering wasn’t triggered by a traumatic event or caused by a horrible childhood as many people believed, that didn’t mean understanding Magnus’s past wasn’t important in figuring out what approach would work best with his personality. And this wasn’t the only digging June planned on doing. She still had her old notebooks from speech therapy, and she was going to try to chat online with her brother to see if August had any suggestions. June wasn’t looking for a way to fix Magnus’s disfluency, but she wanted to help him control it enough to allow him to vlog comfortably.
June flipped through the passages until she came to the one she’d vaguely remembered.
Bjaray, at times, seems formed by the very winds that buffet the small isle—a speck of resilient life in the middle of an endless howling roar. The barren beauty of the land seeps into a man’s soul and either soothes him or drives him mad. My mother fled, following the blowing gale, the power of its force greater than her desire to stay with her husband and squalling bairn—or so my da always claimed. She left before my fifth birthday, leaving behind the memory of a smile as faint as the smoke from a long-dead peat fire.
The poetic words ensnared June. Magnus wrote with all senses, weaving descriptions that sprang from the page and captured the reader. June had always found his work romantically bittersweet. Now, it triggered an ache so deep it almost pained her. The beauty remained, but sadness had crept into his work, deepening the sense of isolation until it threatened to overwhelm June.
She wondered what it would be like growing up abandoned by one parent and irrationally punished by the one remaining. June hadn’t experienced a bad bout of disfluency in years. But she remembered. It had felt like her throat and mouth had betrayed her. It was very easy to feel trapped and alone in those moments. But her parents had always supported her, and June had found friends who understood when she needed time to speak. But Magnus, living on an island with just his father and farm animals, hadn’t received that love. He’d done it alone…but he wasn’t by himself any longer.
Not if June could help it.
* * *
Perching unnoticed on the cabinets, Honey watched the Blond One slowly turn pieces of bound paper. Humans were dull creatures. She did not understand how objects could fascinate them for hours.
Honey turned with a sigh and used her nose and claws quietly to push open the window. She had learned the trick while living in a house. Using the downspout to reach the ground, she scurried through the zoo. She found the Giant One and the Black-Haired One fighting with a llama, while the Gray-Haired One held a noxious-smelling tube in his hand. Although Honey generally found herd creatures particularly insipid, this one was kicking and spitting as the bipeds chased it. Watching the big humans run amused her. They did not have the grace of a honey badger. They skidded wildly when they turned, churning up mud. The llama brayed.
Finally, the Giant One managed to catch the knobby-kneed animal by its midsection. More spitting occurred. The human shook his head as some landed in his hair, but he did not let go. Honey smiled. She’d been right. He did have some honey badger in him.
The Gray-Haired One narrowly missed a kick to the face as he applied goop on the llama’s leg, but he only chuckled fondly and then made soothing sounds in the back of his throat. The llama ignored the elderly biped and continued to protest as he wrapped white material around its limb. When the Gray-Haired One finished, the humans released the camelid back with the herd and then left the enclosure.
Honey sighed. That was not nearly enough entertainment. She would just need to make her own.
Chapter 6
Honey had escaped. Again. Magnus’s side felt damn near bursting. He’d been chasing the damn whalp for hours. Every time he passed the honey badger enclosure, he swore that the male, Fluffy, laughed at him. Bloody nuisances. Both of them.
Bowie had left Magnus in charge while he drove his wife into the city for her obstetrician’s appointment. The two had been more excited than a couple of oystercatchers with a bucket full of mussels, and Magnus didn’t want to ruin their day with a telephone call. Abby was the best at badger wrangling, but the lassie was at school. Magnus knew Lou would help him, but he didn’t think it was good for the eighty-year-old to dash around the zoo, and someone needed to watch Sorcha. He’d debated letting the wee devil exhaust herself instead of chasing her like a bloody nyaff, but she might decide to chomp down on one of the zoo patrons.
Although the zoo closed soon, June was coming to help Magnus with the video. Even if he did catch the blighted beastie, Magnus smelled like a rookel of rubbish and probably looked like it too. He’d need to bathe before he was fit to appear on any video.
Just then, as he rounded the corner, Magnus caught sight of the wee rascal. He dashed forward. Honey darted to the left and then the right. She almost slipped past him, but he managed to get his hands around her middle. Carefully, he hoisted the beastie into the air. Although her legs spun wildly, Magnus swore she grinned.
“Cheeky bastard.”
This time, he definitely spied a flash of white, jagged teeth. “You’re a clever one, you are.”
Honey chittered as if in agreement as Magnus carried her back to the enclosure. After he placed her inside, he scanned the pen but could not determine how the creature had escaped. He sighed, locking the gate behind him. Hopefully, she’d stay…this time.
* * *
Fluffy watched with interest
as the Giant One deposited Honey back into their pen. Had she actually made a mistake? Had the human caught her? Maybe she wouldn’t act so smug now.
Then, Fluffy saw it.
Her toothy smirk.
The minx had planned to be captured. Fluffy was sure of it. She must be toying with the bipeds.
A grudging respect for Honey rose inside Fluffy. He hated to admit it, but he could learn from the wily female. She had a diabolical streak even wider than his own.
And, truth be told, he’d been softening toward her ever since she’d left him the honey-covered larvae…although he would never admit she’d given it to him.
A few minutes later, Fluffy smiled as he watched Honey build a ramp from the mud in their cage. Deciding to be kind, he went to help. She hissed at first and then relented. With the two of them working, they quickly finished her escape route. Honey swished her tail in his direction before she scampered away.
* * *
Magnus dashed back to the maintenance building and headed straight toward the shower. He had to admit he appreciated the Yanks’ love of convenience as he turned on the spray. This was faster than a bath, even if not as pleasant. He’d just finished scrubbing his body when he heard the crash, closely followed by a scream. June’s scream.
Only taking enough time to wrap a towel firmly about his waist, he ran from the room. He paid no heed to the trail of water he left as he pounded around the corner.
“Oooo! No, you are not getting away again, you little minx!”
June’s voice. Magnus would recognize her drawl anywhere. By the sounds of it, Honey had escaped again. Magnus shot down the hall. It had become personal. He was going to capture that peedie whalp and check the enclosure more thoroughly. Hell, he’d build a glass ceiling over the whole area and make a giant terrarium if that’s what it took.
Magnus barreled at full speed toward the supply room. Both the honey badgers were constantly invading it, and the crash had definitely emanated from that direction. He’d just rounded the corner when Honey darted between his legs, chittering madly. He went to grab the beastie, his fingertips skimming the top of her coarse fur. Before he could lower his hands to get a more solid grip, June emitted what he could only classify as a battle cry. Her yell, though, quickly turned panicked.
