by Norma Gail
“You’re right, it looks delicious.” Then she saw Kieran heading their way, a stunning sight in his kilt of bold bright blue and green. She felt the flush rise upward from her shoulders to her cheeks. She had found it impossible to think of him as egotistical since he had shared his deep concern for the students he tutored and the agony of his wife’s death. He was worthy of more than mere physical attraction. To her dismay, they ended up across the round table from each other. She had hoped to be close enough to carry on a conversation.
Janet’s prediction proved true. Kieran was quiet in a crowd. When he caught her watching him, he hid his mouth behind his napkin. She could still see his eyes though, matching the brilliant blue in his tartan. They crinkled at the corners like she remembered. The way he looked at her, coupled with the candlelight dancing in his eyes, proved both disarming and endearing. She knew she blushed whenever she caught him glancing at her, and she lowered her gaze, pretending to concentrate on her meal. Speaking to him without betraying her attraction was impossible.
As the main portion of the meal ended, everyone moved to the next table. Janet went ahead, deep in conversation with an English professor. Bonny was so intent on avoiding Kieran’s eyes, she collided with him. She dropped her purse, and when she bent to retrieve it, they bumped heads.
He handed the bag to her, rubbing his head. Bonny giggled, and he smiled.
“I didn’t mean to ignore you. I think we should become better acquainted before giving people something to speculate about, though. My Aunt Alice heads your department, you know.”
“I understand.” She moved on with her heart rat-a-tat-tatting, reminiscent of the drums at the Tattoo. His magnetism was undeniable.
Everyone prepared to leave after the dessert course, and the other biology professor engaged Janet in a lengthy discussion. Bonny wandered toward the windows, entranced by the loch, the surface of the water shimmering silver under a full moon. She caught her breath when someone walked up next to her. Glancing up, she discovered Kieran towering over her.
“A grand sight, aye?” She trembled at the deep timbre of his voice. “However, the woman who captured my attention this entire evening is far lovelier. I haven’t forgotten my promise to ring you up soon. I will.”
“He said you’re more beautiful than moonlight on the loch?” Janet’s tone was incredulous. “You don’t realize how miraculous it is for him to speak to you at all.”
“He said ‘lovely,’ and he was only enjoying the view and being friendly.” Good thing it was dark. She felt the flush rise upward from her shoulders to her cheeks.
“It’s beyond friendly. The poor man lives a solitary life with his sheep, except for a housekeeper, the farm manager, and some hired men.”
Bonny took a deep breath. “I’m aware of more than you know. We took a hike, ate dinner, and talked for eight hours one evening before our trip to Edinburgh.”
“You and Kieran met without letting me know? What are you hiding from me?”
Oh, dear, what if Kieran isn’t pleased? “Okay, but please don’t make a big thing out of it. I had a flat tire after work, the week before the Tattoo. He changed it and took me to get it fixed. Then he showed me a new place to walk, and I invited him home for green-chili stew. We talked until two in the morning. We have everything in common except sheep, and I imagine I’ll find out they’re nice once I learn something about them. Otherwise, you didn’t miss much.”
“Two in the morning? And you let me introduce you in Edinburgh, knowing nothing?”
“Act like I didn’t say anything, please? He promised to call soon.”
“You do have a lot in common.”
Bonny’s involuntary laugh held all the cynicism bottled inside her heart. “Pain, skepticism, and a love of the same literature and music. He’s easy to talk to. He’ll make a good friend.”
“A friend, aye, he’ll be that, and loyal to the end. But haven’t you imagined anything more? He’s but ten years older, and a fine man, kind, and gentle. Both of you deserve the chance at happiness.”
Kieran was right about people making more out of their friendship than there was. “Janet, he helped me with a flat tire, showed me a new trail, and ate dinner with me. He’s a nice man.”
Janet shook her head. “You don’t know what you need, and Kieran’s every bit as daft. Mum asked if you were coming to church with us tomorrow. Will you? You have to stop visiting around sometime.”
Bonny remained silent, struggling to answer. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. Kieran’s life proves the same thing. Since I have to go, I’ll see you in church. Thanks for picking me up. I enjoyed the evening.”
“You can’t hang onto your anger at God forever, and neither can Kieran. You both look for help everywhere except the one place you can find it. Once you hear Graeme preach, you won’t regret it.”
Bonny readied for bed, reflecting on the changes in her life. Once in bed, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Her parents’ faith had been so strong. The way the three of them used to pray together, she always felt comforted afterwards. She longed to experience the peace she had felt then.
Still puzzling over the choices before her, she arose at six for a hike to sort out her thinking. The wound from Adam’s betrayal was still fresh, but she felt drawn to Kieran in a way she couldn’t deny. Doing nothing and becoming a caricature of Miss Havisham in Dickens’ Great Expectations was a less-than-comforting prospect.
Janet’s comment emphasized the difference in their reactions to their severed relationships. Once again, she determined that Janet handled it better.
Bonny approached the small stone building the next morning, still contemplating her conversation with Janet. Faith Chapel met in a former office building on the main road into town from Fort Augustus. She arrived early and found Janet and her mother, Agnes, already seated in metal folding chairs halfway down the aisle.
It seemed that everyone who came in knew Janet and Agnes, and they introduced her to them all.
A half hour later, during a short pause in the praise and worship time, Janet leaned over and whispered, “You have a lovely voice.”
“Thanks. I’ve sung in choirs or on the praise team since I was little. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
The pastor, Graeme McDholl, preached about the prophet Elijah running away after Jezebel threatened his life. Bonny could identify with the disillusioned prophet as he hid in a cave. She’d seen no more signs of God in the stormy winds that had lashed her life than Elijah did as he watched from the mouth of the cave. Her world had been devastated as surely as the earthquake and fire he experienced without God revealing himself. God showed himself to Elijah at last, in a gentle whisper.
“What did you think of Graeme’s sermon?” Janet questioned Bonny over lunch, following the service.
“It made me consider subjects I’d prefer not to deal with. But he’s very good.”
She caught herself listening for that whisper, but God didn’t speak to her anymore.
The following Sunday, the worship leader, Jamie, approached her. “Janet suggested I convince you to audition for our Christmas program. We’re doing a musical production in the auditorium at the college this year, and we need more strong voices. Auditions are next week.”
The following afternoon, Kieran appeared as Bonny was sitting on a bench under one of the spreading old trees, changing into her hiking boots. “Congratulations. I hear they’re adding another section for your class. I need to apologize for avoiding you the past couple of weeks.” He sat down next to her. “I’d enjoy becoming better acquainted—if you’re interested.”
She narrowed her eyes, hoping the look she gave him was as chilly as the water in Loch Linnhe. “When you never called, I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“I—I know it must have looked that way. I haven’t spent time with a woman since my wife died. It took time to get my courage up.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem the ni
ght we talked until two a.m.”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you? You seemed fine at the faculty party.”
“That was before you made me wait a third time. First you were in Edinburgh for the Tattoo. Then I didn’t hear from you until the party, and now it’s been two more weeks. If you don’t want to see me, Kieran …”
“I wouldn’t say I wanted to see you if I didn’t.”
“I wasted years with a man who took advantage of me at every opportunity. I won’t ever let that happen again.” She stood so that she was looking down at him.
“That’s one reason it took me so long. Bonny, I would never want to hurt you. The longer I waited, the more I wanted to be with you.” He sounded sincere; but then, so had Adam.
“You’re certain?”
“I’m not like Adam.”
Now he was reading her mind. She took a step back. He was honest and kind—well worth giving another chance. “I was going for a hike. Do you want to join me? We’ll see how things go.”
He nodded, his whole face lighting up with a smile that created a warm, melty feeling inside of her, similar to what she remembered from schoolgirl crushes, only stronger. “Aye, I hoped you might like company.”
“I’d enjoy it.”
He stood and gestured for her to proceed. “Lead the way.”
They walked along in silence, enjoying the cool, crisp afternoon with a slight mist in the air, the scent of early fall, damp, with the first of the decaying leaves underfoot. Already, Bonny agreed that a light mist wasn’t worth acknowledging compared to the constant rain of most days. The sky was a pale blue with thin clouds, the mist seeming to arise from nowhere.
It was an afternoon worthy of a postcard. The winding path led through tall pines and trees beginning to clothe themselves in the brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds of autumn. The cerulean loch below glimmered in the afternoon sunlight, creating a dazzling view.
They walked half a mile before Bonny broke the silence. “Did you really plan to walk with me?”
“Oh, aye, I wanted to ask you to dinner later in the week.”
The shiver passing through her wasn’t due to the light breeze. “I’ll let you know after our walk.”
“I’m in town three days a week for class and tutoring. I thought Friday evening would work. Are you afraid, or just making it difficult?”
“Both.” She tried to imagine a love like Janet had described between Kieran and his wife. She would settle for nothing less.
An hour later, they stood overlooking the shimmering lochs below. Kieran moved close enough for her to feel the heat from his body as he blocked the chill breeze blowing from the water. “The view from here is one of my favorites.”
Bonny laughed. “I can’t get used to so much water. We don’t have this much in the entire state of New Mexico.”
“Whoo,” he let out a breath of air, shaking his head.
She laughed, bending to pick a wildflower, thinking how fragile she felt when it came to men. “You think I’m kidding.”
“I can’t imagine the desert. I’ve traveled around Europe, but I haven’t seen anywhere without water.”
She laughed again. “I’ll show you pictures sometime. Albuquerque gets less than ten inches of rain a year. The mountains get more, but it’s minuscule compared to here.”
He shook his head, grinning down at her. Then he took the flower and tucked it behind her right ear. “It sounds like the Sahara.”
“Not at all. It has its own beauty.” She did enjoy his company.
“Say yes to dinner on Friday. If you don’t want to see me again, you can tell me after that.”
“All right. One thing at a time.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
When they reached the parking lot, he held her car door, lingering a little longer than necessary.
She checked the rearview mirror as she turned onto the street. He stood still in the same spot, watching her drive away. Reaching up, she touched the flower still tucked behind her ear, wondering if it was a promise of good things to come.
Kieran climbed out of the Land Rover to get a closer look at the tracks leading into the heavily forested area on the south side of the loch known as Greenfield. From up ahead where a ruined cottage had been built into a shallow cave, he heard the sound of voices.
Expecting someone either lost or sightseeing, he slogged through the mud, his Wellies sinking up to his ankles in spots. “Hello?”
At his call, the voices stopped. The only way across the loch was by the bridge just west of the house. They could have come from the direction of Tomdoun, but it bore further investigation.
“Hey there.” A man sat on a stone fallen from the long-derelict chimney. He looked up as Kieran approached.
“Brennan? I thought you were off today.”
The tall young man with shaggy hair stood up, his deep brown eyes bright and alert. “Yes sir, I am. I was just hiking around a bit. I heard there used to be a town here and thought I’d have a look.”
“The people left here in the late 1700s. It’s been empty and neglected since.” Kieran walked to the door of the cottage and looked in. “Nothing much here, just a few stones. The people who called it home moved north to Caithness and then to Canada, victims of the Clearances.”
Brennan kept looking over to the right where a quad-bike sat spattered in mud. “I heard they lost their lands to the MacDonells.”
“The Greenfields were MacDonells also. They took the name Greenfield to remind them of their home, when they went to Canada. It wasn’t unusual for lower-ranking clansmen to be evicted by more well-to-do members of their own clan who sided with the English.”
Brennan glanced over his shoulder, giving the impression he was listening for something.
“Is someone else here, lad?”
His eyes reminded Kieran of a startled deer. “No—no, I came alone, just curious. Do you have a problem with me being here?”
Something caught Kieran’s eye near the quad bike. Sure enough, two sets of footprints leading from there to the cottage, then one set leading into the woods. The boot prints looked the same, but one set seemed a wee bit smaller. “There are two sets of footprints and I thought I heard voices. I don’t mind if you have someone with you.”
“I said I was alone. I was talking to a squirrel that startled me when I went to look inside the cave.” He edged toward the bike. “How did you come to own the land? You’re not a Greenfield.”
“No, I’m a Glengarry MacDonell. My second great grandfather bought the land comprising Stonehaven Farm. I inherited it. I own land on both sides of the loch.” A rustling in the bushes sounded like something larger than a squirrel. “You’re welcome to be here, as long as you don’t disturb anything.”
“Thanks, we—I won’t.”
“Fine.” With a look he hoped left no doubt who was boss, Kieran turned and headed back to the Land Rover. As he backed down the muddy track, a flash of red caught his eye in the trees. He would make certain to tell Angus and Seumas to keep an eye on young Brennan Grant. He had the feeling something was up. Why should a Grant care about the long-ago ancestors of the MacDonells? Something didn’t fit.
Janet drove Bonny home from her first choir practice the next night, and they sat in the driveway talking. “I think you could do each other some good. I also think you need a dress for the Fort William Charity Ball. If your dinner goes well, Kieran’s bound to ask you.” She smiled as if her prediction had already come true. “The pipe band will be performing, so he won’t miss it. Everyone wears their tartan. Bryant is a corruption of O’Brian or MacBrian, and not a recognized clan, so they don’t have one. We can use the Fraser’s, for your grandmother’s side, though, a soft red with a bold plaid of blue and dark green. You’ll win his heart in a minute.”
Bonny ducked her head to hide her warming cheeks, the curse of a fair complexion. The idea sounded more appealing than she wanted to ad
mit. “Who said I wanted to win his heart?”
“You blush whenever his name is mentioned,” Janet teased.
The next morning, she remembered dreams of dancing with what Janet called “a braw and bonnie Highlander.” Her heart fluttered at the thought of his booming brogue. Only once, she whispered his name, “Kieran,” and there was magic in the sound.
Chapter Eight: Thoughts of Home
Bonny’s heels made a thwacking sound as she walked across the marble floor of the college foyer, disturbing the quiet of the almost empty building. She’d awakened early with a heart heavier than her briefcase full of books. It was five months to the day since her dad’s death. Her mind still had a hard time processing all the changes. If the God her parents had believed in did exist, how did He fit into it all?
“Bonny, I have updated class lists for you,” a voice called from behind her.
Yanked back to the present, she turned and walked back a few steps to the office she had just passed. Leaning on the half-door, she forced her thoughts back to the real world. “Thanks, Lorna. How do things look?”
The energetic genie of the registrar’s office, as Janet called her, was a perpetually smiling friend to every professor at the college. “Your elective course has attracted more students than we planned for. We’ve moved you into the larger lecture hall on the second floor and opened two more sections, as Dr. Cameron mentioned. I have your new class lists ready.”
Bonny took the papers, ruffling through them with a feeling that was both joy over the success of the class and sadness because her dad wasn’t there to share it. “Janet told me you work magic. She was right.”
The tiny woman, a few inches shorter than Bonny, blushed to the roots of her shining silver hair. “It’s the most popular course we have right now. The waiting list extends to next term.”
“Thanks. I don’t know how you keep track of everyone so well. See you later.”
