Sweet Wild of Mine

by Laurel Kerr

  “I don’t want to speak with June,” Magnus said.

  “Fair enough,” Bowie conceded. “So, when are you heading out?”

  “As soon as I say goodbye to Sorcha and Savannah,” Magnus answered.

  “Do you want to feed the camels and llamas too?”

  “Aye.”

  “I guess this is goodbye then. I hope you’ll keep in touch, even if it’s just so I can keep you up to date on Sorcha.” Bowie extended his hand. Magnus took it, and Bowie clasped his upper arm. Then, with a brisk bob of his head, Bowie turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  Magnus stood in front of Frida’s enclosure a little longer. He could hear the grizzly snoring softly. The old bruin must have fallen back asleep while he and Bowie were talking.

  “Farewell, Frida,” Magnus said softly as he headed to the main facility. He avoided the nursery and headed to the storeroom instead. He’d leave Sorcha for last. Grabbing treats for all the animals, he threw one into Frida’s home before heading to the llama exhibit. Hefting a hay bale, he left it in the middle of the outdoor enclosure before going inside the shed to check on the camels. At the sound of his footsteps, Savannah lifted her long neck. Spotting him, she immediately struggled to her feet, waking her mum in the process. The calf loped over to him and tried to fit her head through the slats of the stall door to reach his pockets. He chuckled softly and lifted the pin to let himself in.

  “I’ll miss you, lassie,” Magnus said as he scratched the peedie camel’s woolly head and slipped her an alfalfa pellet. Savannah sucked it up with her huge lips and began to chew noisily, her teeth moving side to side in a grinding motion. Her mother bumped Magnus’s shoulder, clearly demanding her own treat. He gave it to her and petted her neck. “You’ll both be in my book.”

  Lulubelle emitted a contented rumbling sound. Magnus gave her another pat before he turned from the pen. It would be morning soon, and he didn’t want to linger. If he did, he knew June would find him.

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he took the long route through the zoo. Some of the animals had begun to stir, and when he passed the prairie dogs, a few of their sentries gave warning cries. He could see their short tails flash in the dim, pearly glow as they darted into their holes.

  When he entered the nursery, Sorcha raised her head, her black eyes blinking sleepily. Magnus couldn’t help but smile. She and the capybara had made a nest out of Sorcha’s plush animals. Aye, the little bear loved her toys, especially the snuggly ones. Magnus got down on the floor, and the cub immediately dashed over to him. Even without rubber mats to give her traction, she remained steady. His little Sorcha was growing up.

  “I’ll miss you the most,” he whispered, “but don’t tell the others.”

  Sorcha pounced on him, and he laughed as she began to attack his gloved hand. “Och, lass, I’m not a seal.”

  The bear, of course, didn’t listen. Magnus tussled with the wee beastie until his heart grew too heavy. When he’d left his da’s croft, it had been the hardest saying goodbye to Sorcha the cow. He’d never admit it, but a tear or two might have stung the back of his eyes when he’d patted her shaggy head for the last time. Saying his goodbye to her had been the only time he’d succumbed to emotion when leaving his boyhood home.

  When Magnus rose, the capybara lumbered to her feet. He rubbed Sylvia’s head as she pressed her kidney-shaped body against his leg. “You take good care of Sorcha, you hear?”

  The animal lifted her big, brown eyes, bringing back more memories of his old cow. “I’m sorry, lass, but I can’t stay. I’ve got to go, but you’ll get along well enough without me.”

  He swore the animal looked dubious, but he ignored her pleading expression. With one last belly rub for the cub, he left. As always, he didn’t look back. Instead, he strode straight to where he’d left his belongings. When he reached the doorframe, he froze, staring in disbelief.

  Someone—or rather something—had ripped through his holdall. Clothes lay strewn across the room. Several of his T-shirts appeared ripped.

  Baws.

  It took his brain only a moment to dredge up the culprit. Honey. Only the manky honey badger could have done something so diabolical.

  Magnus walked inside and grabbed his computer. He didn’t even inspect the rest of his belongings. He just walked away. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d departed with only the clothes on his back. At least now he had dosh in the bank, but even if he’d been broke, he wouldn’t have lingered to sort through his possessions.

  No. He’d had his fill of meddlesome females.

  * * *

  “He’s gone,” June repeated, her chest aching something fierce as she stood on Katie’s front porch. The dull pain had lingered all morning, and she felt foggy and out of sorts.

  “I’m sorry,” Katie said, her expression kind. The sympathy in her best friend’s eyes irked June. She didn’t want to be mollycoddled. Drawing in her breath, she forced herself to calm. This wasn’t like her. This irrational irritation. She was sensible and even-tempered.

  “When did he leave?” June asked, each word like a knife thrust through her heart.

  “A couple hours ago. It was barely dawn,” Katie said gently. The understanding in her voice tore at June. She was tired of being treated with softness. With pity.

  It struck June how often she’d extended the same type of comfort. She’d thought herself the queen of soothing words. Land sakes, how many times had she unintentionally annoyed the person she’d meant to comfort?

  June groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

  Katie patted her on the back, the swell of her pregnant belly brushing against June. “You’re not an idiot. You’ve just got a big heart, and sometimes you get carried away.”

  June looked at her best friend. “I’ve lost him, haven’t I?”

  Katie didn’t respond, but then she didn’t need to. Her expression said it all. That, and the surety in June’s soul.

  “I’m so sorry.” Katie’s eyes reflected June’s pain. Her friend had always possessed a heart for compassion. But June wasn’t ready for empathy. Not yet.

  June stood abruptly. “I should get back. I left Nan with Josh, and I’m not sure how well he can handle her episodes.”

  “I can go over and help today,” Katie offered. “Maybe you should take some time off. Go into the city. Do some shopping.”

  June shook her head. “No. I need to keep busy. Taking care of the shop and Nan will keep my mind off things.”

  “Okay,” Katie said. “Do you want me to drive you back? Bowie and I can drop off your car this evening.”

  “No. It was a breakup, not a death,” June snapped and then slapped her hand over her mouth. She did not snap at people, especially when they were trying to show her a kind turn. That wasn’t her way.

  Katie, however, didn’t appear insulted. June almost wished she were. Then she wouldn’t have to see her friend’s sad expression anymore.

  “All right,” Katie said with a nod. “But call me if you need anything. Bowie and I are here for you. If you need help with your nan, there’s my mom too.”

  June bobbed her head. If she tried to speak, she might bite off Katie’s head again like an unhinged snapping turtle. At least her friend seemed to understand as she walked June to her vehicle. Katie gave June a quick hug goodbye before she turned and headed back to her house. When June climbed into her SUV, she didn’t turn on the engine immediately. She just sat there, letting the pain wash over her. She didn’t want to tell Nan that Magnus had left. Part of her almost walked back into Katie’s house to take her up on the offer of escaping. But that wouldn’t solve anything, and June Winters didn’t run.

  Not like a certain cowardly Scotsman.

  Not that June blamed him. Much. She had given him an awfully big push.

  She started
her vehicle and drove the short distance to her tea shop. As soon as she headed up the stairs, she heard Josh calling her. He met her in the hallway, his face serious.

  “Nan keeps asking for Magnus,” Josh told her. “I guess he used to read to her in the mornings? I tried, but she says I sound too much like a Yank. I think I may be insulted.”

  June managed a weak smile at Josh’s attempt at humor. “I’ll go talk to her.”

  She found her grandmother sitting up in bed, her eyes round and cloudy. She swiveled slowly in June’s direction and blinked. June’s heart skittered at the fear and confusion in Nan’s face. The woman needed routine, and June had just blown that to smithereens.

  “Where’s Magnus?” Nan demanded, her voice high and a little panicky. “Magnus always reads to me. He didn’t come today.”

  “I’m sorry, Nan,” June said as she sank onto the bed. She reached forward and grabbed her grandmother’s hand. Her skin felt thin and papery beneath June’s. “Magnus is gone.”

  “Gone!” Nan’s thin voice rose even higher. Anxiety swam in her hazel eyes. June swallowed against the well of pain bubbling up from her own chest. She gently squeezed her grandmother’s fingers, but she didn’t know if she meant to comfort Nan or herself.

  “Yes,” June said softly. “He went back to London.”

  “Why?”

  Because I was a fool who stuck her nose where it didn’t belong.

  Instead June said, “It was time, Nan. He didn’t belong to us. England is his home.”

  For a moment, her grandmother’s eyes sharpened, and the old Nan returned. “Pfft. He’s an Orcadian, Junie. England would never be his home.”

  Despite the hurt in her heart, June smiled. Her grandmother had a point. She patted her nan’s hand. “That may be true, but that’s where he lives.”

  The brightness faded from her grandmother. A childish look returned to her face. “But who will read to me?”

  “Josh is here for a few weeks.”

  Nan frowned like a toddler who’d just been told brussels sprouts tasted just like candy. “Bah. He has a horrible accent. It hurts my ears.”

  June hid a smile. “Well then, I’ll read to you.”

  Her grandmother sank into the cushions, a mulish expression on her face. “It won’t be the same.”

  “No, Nan,” June said quietly, “it won’t be, but we’ll muddle through.”

  Nan looked dubious, and June didn’t blame her. After all, she harbored the same doubts. Somehow, she—the woman who fixed everyone else’s problems—had begun to rely on the calm, quiet Scot. He’d become a part of her life, and now he’d vanished.

  June hadn’t hurt this much since childhood. All the old buried feelings sprang up like zombies, and she felt as helpless as she had as a kid. She couldn’t bring Magnus back any more than she could have stopped the Air Force from reassigning her dad. And this time…this time she had no one to blame but herself.

  Chapter 16

  When Magnus returned to London, he locked himself in his flat and wrote. And wrote. And wrote. He emerged only to wander to the nearby pub to nurse a whiskey and to type. No one bothered him. Shite, they likely didn’t even notice him tucked away with his laptop. He had no one pestering him about working with his stutter or keeping his beard trimmed.

  He should have been as jolly as a puffin with a score of sand eels in its beak, but he wasn’t. The yawning hole inside him ached, and he couldn’t rid himself of the dull pain. He’d never felt emptiness like this before, not even during his recovery from his da’s attack. Back then, he’d written to alleviate the pressure inside him. And he did the same now. He wanted to purge Sagebrush Flats as thoroughly as he had Bjaray.

  He bled all of his emotions, all of his frustrations onto the page. As he pounded on the keyboard, he didn’t mull over his words. He just let them spill over. Although he’d always been a fast writer, the book poured out of him.

  Then, he finished it.

  He sat at his desk, staring at the screen. It was done. There wasn’t any more to write. He felt drained, and he welcomed the sensation.

  Scrubbing his hand over his face, he stood up and headed to the toilet. As he washed his hands, he paused at his reflection. He hadn’t looked at himself in weeks, and his appearance surprised him. It wasn’t because his beard and hair had grown woolly again. No. If anything, the extra hair helped to hide the truth. He looked awful. He’d lost weight. His face was gaunt, his eyes slightly sunken. He pulled at his trousers, and they hung loose. It dawned on him that he’d skipped more than one meal.

  Cracking his neck, he headed toward the scullery. When he opened the fridge, he frowned. It was empty. He checked the cupboards and found a tin of beans and a bag of bread. Beans and toast weren’t his favorite, but he didn’t feel like heading down to the pub. At least the meal was filling, and it only took a minute to heat it on the cooker.

  Sitting back down at his laptop with his supper in his hands, Magnus began to skim his manuscript. Generally, he waited at least a day or two before starting his edits. The time gave him more clarity. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Even though he’d written the damn thing, he felt drawn to it, as if it contained a mystery only he could unravel.

  Twenty pages in, he forgot about eating again. Even when his back began to throb from being hunched over the computer, he didn’t stop. He sat there reading, unable to pull himself away. Hours ticked by.

  When he finally came to the end, he straightened. “Fuck me.”

  Stunned disbelief ricocheted through him. A part of him wanted to reach forward and delete the whole damn thing, even if it was his best work. Denial whipped through him, fast and furious, but all too soon, it slipped away. After all, the truth lay before him, spelled out in 101,015 words, to be exact. And he’d written every last one of them.

  He’d penned a love letter. To June.

  * * *

  “I need your help.”

  June looked up from her cash register to find Clay Stevens staring back at her. She didn’t know the man well, but he’d been in her tea shop a few times. He was a coffee drinker—black. No tea. No sugar. No milk. She remembered he seemed offended when she’d asked if he wanted cream.

  Clay was an outsider in Sagebrush. It didn’t matter if his maternal granddaddy had roots a mile deep in this area. Nor did folks give him credit for the decade he’d spent living on and then successfully running his ancestral ranch just outside town. He could drink all the black coffee he wanted and wear all the cowboy hats and boots in the world, but people would still call him a greenhorn city slicker and think he guzzled down prissy lattes.

  June gave him a smile, even though her heart still hurt like the dickens. Magnus had been gone for over a month, and still the pain hadn’t eased. She’d never felt like this after a breakup, but then again, she’d never loved someone before.

  “What can I do for you?” June asked.

  Clay glanced around the tea shop. It was midmorning and between the breakfast and lunch rushes, so only Stanley and Buck occupied a table. The latter was shooting him daggers. After all, the older man blamed Clay’s father for giving Buck’s son a heart attack.

  “Can they hear me?” Clay asked softly as he jerked his head in the direction of June’s regulars.

  June felt her smile slip. “Not if you talk real low like you’re doing, but I won’t let you say anything against them. They are just the sweetest fellows, and my best customers.”

  Clay scowled. He was a handsome man—blond hair, cerulean eyes, even features. Unfortunately for him, he looked like an East Coast blue blood or an Ivy League frat boy, neither of which set well with the folks of Sagebrush. It only cemented his interloper image and reminded them of his swindler father. “Why do people around here always think the worst of me? I just want to ask for a favor, and I don’t want them overhearing.”

  June�
��s grin disappeared altogether as Clay unwittingly caused her a stab of pain and guilt.

  “I’m afraid I’m fresh out of favors these days. They tend to get me in trouble.”

  Clay didn’t seem deterred. In fact, he leaned closer, his voice as low as a limbo contestant. “I’m out of options. People around here can’t stand me, and I need to change that.”

  June barely stopped an unkind laugh from escaping her lips. My, my, when had she become so bitter? “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help you with that.”

  Clay sighed. “Everyone in this damn town loves you, and we’ve been here almost the same amount of time. I want to know your secret. How do you get them to like you?”

  June had never been one for sarcasm, but it slipped from her lips as easily as butter over a hot biscuit. “By being nice and smiling.”

  Clay’s frowned deepened. “I do those things.”

  June quirked her lips and began to wipe down the counter. “From what I’ve heard, you’re more known for yelling during town meetings and stirring up trouble.”

  Frustration fell over Clay’s face, but to his credit, he didn’t erupt into anger. “Wanting to protect my livestock isn’t stirring up trouble. It shouldn’t be so difficult to convince ranchers to see the problem with reintroducing wolves. The difficulty is nobody can say no to Lacey Montgomery. She’s Sagebrush’s favorite daughter. I can’t go up against her. Not with my image. That’s why I need your help. If there’s anyone who this town adores more than Lacey, it’s you.”

  June leaned across the counter and stared the annoying greenhorn down. “You want me to go up against one of my friends to champion a cause I don’t believe in?”