by Norma Gail
“Aye, that she is.”
“You’re such good friends, did you ever date?”
“We did, in secondary school, but there’s no spark. It lasted a month. Why, are you worried about rivals?” He laughed, his straight white teeth lustrous in the dim light, his cobalt blue eyes dancing.
She felt the heat creeping up, and in a strapless dress there was no hiding it. “No, but it’s easy to overlook someone close to you. She and Graeme make a perfect couple, but she insists on remaining alone.”
He shook his head. “Aye, they do, but she won’t change.”
Moments later, he nudged her. “Perhaps they’re figuring it out themselves. Look.” Graeme stood next to Janet while she conversed with a group of women.
Kieran steered Bonny in their direction in time to hear the pastor say, “Hello, Janet. Are you enjoying your evening?”
Janet turned to face him. “I am. Graeme, will you join us?” She motioned to an empty chair and turned toward the orchestra. “Oh, the Blue Danube Waltz. It’s one of my favorites.”
“W—would you care to dance?”
Graeme’s nervous expression made Bonny smile. “I’m glad. They’re both lonely.”
Kieran leaned close to her ear. “I believe the Bible when it says man shouldn’t be alone.”
Halfway through the evening, Kieran excused himself. Bonny watched him approach the director of the orchestra, and whisper something. Her heart quickened, expecting him to request a special dance. Instead, he retrieved her cloak and led her out for a stroll on the grounds of Inverlochy Castle.
Queen Victoria had said that the castle, built in 1863, was a lovely and romantic place, and Bonny agreed. Though the thirteenth century castle lay in ruins, the impressive home built nearby, now a hotel, was romantic and picturesque. She was Cinderella dancing with her prince, a prince in the guise of a rugged and handsome Highland sheep farmer.
Torchlight played across his face, creating highlights of bronze in his hair. The damp air was heavy with the scent of late roses. Her life had become a romantic novel, and she waited to see what adventure the next page contained.
As they approached the garden, right outside the windows nearest the orchestra, he paused. “I don’t need to ask if you’re enjoying yourself. I see it in the glow in your cheeks and the light in your eyes. You’re radiant.”
The strength of his arms and the deep, accented tone of his voice caused her heart to beat faster as he drew her close in a firm embrace, almost lifting her off her feet. “You’ve brought me back to life. Bonny—I’m in love with you.”
His eyes searched hers, and she breathed deep, taking in the fresh night air. Unable to raise her voice above a whisper, she said, “I love you too, Kieran.”
As if on cue, the orchestra began to play.
“There is no more romantic waltz than ‘The Rosebud of Allenvale.’” He rested his forehead against hers, his arms enfolding her, warm and strong. “When I first saw you tonight, your shoulders reminded me of a rose petal, so creamy and soft. May I have this dance?”
She managed to mouth “yes,” before he captured her lips, communicating a sweet urgency she had no wish to deny. The taste of his kiss and the scent of his cologne created fanciful thoughts of what it might be like to spend her life in the security of his arms.
As they began to waltz in the play of the torchlight, he whispered, “Tha gaol agam ort. It’s the Gaelic for ‘I love you,’ and I do love you, my bonnie lass.”
“I love you too, Kieran.”
Any hesitation between them disappeared when they returned to the ballroom. They danced every dance, whispering words for each other alone.
When they reached her house after the ball, he stepped inside out of the cold. One lamp glowed in the darkness, leaving them wrapped in the dream-like haze of newly confessed love.
“Since your grandmother was a Fraser, you should know our clans fought each other at one time.” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “A hint of friendship between us would have led to our deaths.”
“When?” The light joking did nothing to change the mood of the evening. His voice and his touch were the only sensations penetrating the aura surrounding her, enveloping her in a thick cloak of romance and dreams.
“The Battle of Shirts took place in 1544 between the MacDonells of Glengarry and Clan Fraser at Loch Lochy. An ancestor of mine, Ranald Gallda, was in line for clan chief, and the Frasers became involved when Ranald married a girl from Clan Fraser …”
“Oh, so there’s a history of romance between our clans.” She felt giddy and light as air. He loved her.
“Aye, lass, are you sayin’ it’s in our blood then, to fall in love?” His eyes danced with fun, his accent strong, and his eyes ardent with emotion in the dim light.
“Maybe.” She raised her lips to his, full of exhilarating, all-encompassing, new love. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our hike, oidhche mhath.”
“Excellent, you’re learning. Beannachd leit, my Bonny. Tha gaol agam ort.”
“I love you.” She leaned against the door after he left, overwhelmed by the gift she had been given.
Bonny looked up when someone knocked at her office door. It stood open, and Uncle Dùghlas stepped in.
“I need to talk you, my dear. Do you mind if I close the door?”
She nodded, sliding the papers she was working on over to one side. “Is something wrong? I’ve never seen you in the office wing before.”
He sat down, the chair squeaking as he scooted closer to the desk. “I wanted to talk to you, and when I saw your car outside, I thought I would come in.”
“Is Aunt Mairi doing all right? She looked beautiful at the ball last night.”
“She’s fine. It’s Kieran I wanted to speak with you about.” He stuck a finger behind his tie, loosening it a little.
“Kieran? Why?”
“Bonny, he is a great math professor, and I consider him a friend. However, he leaves something to be desired where his walk with the Lord is concerned.” His voice was kind and concerned, fatherly, and it almost brought tears to her eyes.
“He’s struggling. I have had struggles of my own.” How much could she say without getting reprimanded for not being truthful?
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I thought it best to give you some time. Your pain is still so fresh, and your father would want me to be gentle with you.” He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose.
“You knew?” She sat back in her chair, waiting to see what he would say.
“Your father told me he thought you were struggling with your faith the last time we spoke. I would have known the night you had dinner with us, even if he had said nothing.”
“You never said …”
“You needed time. I’m pleased you’re going to church with Janet. Graeme is a good pastor. You were raised in the truth, Bonny. Your parents taught you well. You’ll come back to it, given time. Just be careful. Guard your heart well.” He leaned forward, his voice serious and low.
“I love him, Uncle Dùghlas, and he loves me. We’ve discussed this. I believe he will change in time.”
He reached across the desk to pat her hand, then pushed back his chair and stood to go. “You can talk to Mairi or me, dear. Go slowly.”
Bonny stood and walked around the desk. “Thank you. You’re a good friend, a good uncle. My father knew you would be. I’m so glad I came here. I promise I’ll go slow.”
“True love never asks us to compromise, Bonny. It makes us better than we were alone. Take your time.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
As she removed the mail from her box when she got home, Bonny paused to examine a plain white envelope. Her address was typed, but it had no return, and bore an Albuquerque postmark. Communication with friends and colleagues took place via email. The one page missive within was also typed. The one word greeting read, Bonny.
With the first sentence, her throat began to tighten and her heart to race. I don’t bl
ame you for hanging up on me … Adam. Had she realized it came from him, she would have thrown it away unopened. She tossed it into the trash.
The next day, she was cleaning off her desk at home. When she dumped some old notes into the trash, she caught a glimpse of the red, white, and blue American flag on the stamp, where the envelope stood up on edge, peeking out of the trash as if to taunt her. She continued on, straightening and dusting, but the thought of the letter kept nagging at her. She turned on some Mozart as she continued dusting, hoping the music would distract her. By the time she finished cleaning out the refrigerator and put in a load of laundry, it became apparent she would have no peace until she knew what he had to say.
Retrieving the envelope, she leaned back against the plush pillows on the couch, holding it with her eyes closed, remembering. Adam’s face haunted her dreams at night. But the attraction she felt for Kieran was far more than she had ever felt for Adam. Even before declaring their love, it had felt as if her heart and Kieran’s beat as one, more like magnets than the polar opposites she and Adam had been.
Drawing the letter from the envelope, she slowly unfolded it. Adam’s cursive scribbles, so different from Kieran’s precise, mathematician’s hand, created even more of a distinction between them.
The first sentence startled her and she found it necessary to read it again. Adam Lawson asking forgiveness was a first. I broke things off with Vanessa after hearing you moved to Scotland. I will do anything to show I am worthy of your forgiveness and love. It is impossible for me to love anyone but you.
She held the answer to her prayers in her hand, but instead of the joy she might once have felt, she found herself irritated and angry. Pulse pounding, and stomach churning, she read, If you can offer me any hope, I will get on a plane to Scotland. God is in control of my life, and nothing will threaten my feelings for you again. Please, call. I love you still and forever.
The autumn air carried a chill, and a fire burned in the fireplace. Bonny crossed the room and threw the letter in, watching as the flames consumed it. She now knew how true love felt. How dare he attempt to rekindle what he so cold-heartedly destroyed? Tha gaol agam ort, my Kieran.
Chapter Thirteen: Faith and Emotions
“Do you ever get nervous?”
Kieran and Bonny ambled down the trail leading from her house to Loch Linnhe, the day before her solo at church. A slight mizzle hung in the air, a fine day by Scottish standards. The gray waters of the loch churned and white-capped in the wind, matching the blustery mood she had been in since Adam’s letter. If Kieran had changed his mind about coming to hear her solo, why didn’t he say so?
“Of course. I’ve sung solos in church and at school since I was five, but I’m still nervous.”
He caught her hand in his. “You’ll be perfect, as in everything else.” Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her head and continued down the trail.
“You haven’t changed your mind?” She turned and looked into his eyes, demanding they meet her own.
“Bonny …”
“You’ll attend Dr. Cameron’s church to please him, but pleasing me doesn’t matter? Does one morning make such a difference?” She didn’t care if her frustration showed.
“First it will be for your solo, then the Christmas program. If you want it, fine. Don’t try to change me.” His voice rose in volume.
“Kieran, it’s the first thing I’ve ever asked of you.” She raised her voice also.
“Can’t I get away with listening to you practice?” He didn’t even try to mask his exasperation. “I won’t go with you every week.” When she remained silent, he shook his head and said, “Just once.”
She smiled up at him. “Remember when you told me how much it meant to see Janet or your mom in the crowd at the Highland Games? I want to see you out there when I sing. How can we have a healthy relationship if we can’t share our faith?”
“So now you believe in a caring, personal God?” He dropped her hand, his reply laced with sarcasm, his eyes boring into her.
She pulled herself up to her full height. “I find Graeme’s sermons convincing. They remind me of truths I have ignored for too long.”
“Two years, Bonny. Two years of pain and questions without answers.” His face flushed with anger, and he turned away. “I’ll come for your solo. Don’t expect anything else.”
“What matters more, Kieran, your past or your future?” She held her voice steady. “I choose the future.”
“Bonny, my darlin’ lass.” His broad shoulders sagged as he turned, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. His lips touched her forehead, wooing her, his voice softening, and the rolled r’s became more pronounced. “What’re you doin’ to my settled life? I hate arguin’ with you.”
Neither spoke on the way back to her house. When she unlocked the door, she felt his uncertainty. “I need to think. Do you mind if I don’t stay for dinner?”
Standing on tiptoe, she pulled him down, planting a kiss on his cheek. “If it will help, go ahead.”
When she heard bagpipes from the cemetery, Bonny recognized his attempt to settle his doubts. Janet came to help her practice her solo, and they prayed for Kieran’s peace.
“I tried to bring you together at first, but I didn’t realize how deep his anger at God went.” Janet frowned. “You’re letting your heart lead you. Why spend your life second to a dead love?”
Bonny hung her head in silence. This was getting a little old. Uncle Dùghlas had been fatherly, but she didn’t expect such criticism from a friend. Janet spoke the truth, but she imagined his arms around her, the warmth of his breath soft on her cheek as he whispered the Gaelic endearment she found so sweet. “More than anything on earth I want to marry Kieran MacDonell. I know what he feels. He will change.”
Janet’s eyes searched hers, narrowing in suspicion. “Has he proposed to you?”
“No, but he’s the man I’ve searched for. How can I give him up? He believes in God the Creator. He agreed to come hear my solo …”
“Bonny, disagreements where faith is concerned destroy marriages every day.” Janet’s terse statement reminded her of a mother warning her child. “Promise me you’ll pray and take your time. See how he reacts. Talk to Graeme, please?”
“Yes.” Bonny nodded, images of Kieran filling her with longing. He was her soul mate, his love—a gift.
Kieran entered the church as the service began and took a seat next to Agnes. Bonny was already on the stage, the sun shining through a window, highlighting her glossy red hair. The halo effect in burnished gold caused him to draw an involuntary breath. They had seen each other in passing but shared no conversation over the past four days. The separation was his own doing, and he regretted it.
As she began to sing, tears flowed down his cheeks. She had the voice of an angel. “Be Thou My Vision” was an ancient Gaelic hymn, and Bronwyn’s favorite. The last line, sung in Bonny’s lilting soprano, stung his conscience. “Heart of my own heart whatever befall, still be my vision, O Ruler of all.”
When she came off the stage and claimed the empty seat next to him, he put his arm around her, pulling her close. When they were alone he would apologize and tell her how her voice had touched him.
The church atmosphere wasn’t as uncomfortable as he expected. He liked Graeme, but a battle raged within him. He didn’t understand why God had abandoned him. These people must have experienced loss and heartache, but He hadn’t left them alone. When they reached Bonny’s house, he put his arms around her and cried. She held him—waiting. “I’ve struggled since you started attending church. I don’t want anything to steal you away from me. As I listened to you sing, I realized what a gift you are, but I still can’t believe the way I used to.”
The issue placed an almost tangible barrier between them. Their future depended on him coming to terms with his past.
With myriad emotions roiling inside, Bonny refused to answer the phone when she recognized Adam’s number. The words of his apology
kept coming back to her since Kieran’s struggle over the matter of church.
Her hands shook as she dialed, grateful to hear the voice on the other end. “Kari, why does he keep bothering me?”
“Because he can’t stand to lose.”
Kari’s concern was obvious, and her own voice had a shaky quality. “I stood and watched his letter burn in the fireplace. He has to realize I can’t welcome him back into my life after what he did. I’m doing fine without him. His superior attitude always made me feel worthless. It grew worse after his rejection.”
“Why haven’t you blocked his number?” It must sound simple to Kari. She and Dan had known they belonged together since the ninth grade. She had no way of knowing how painful this was.
“It’s harder than you think, but how did he get my address? Why does he torment me this way after what he did? And he expects me to take him back? I matter to Kieran.” Do I really matter? The solo didn’t. Is doubt about Kieran why I can’t block Adam, or do I still … Am I angry, sad, or both?
“You never said you felt worthless around Adam. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Kari said. “Bonny, the church secretary asked for your address. I never thought of Adam wanting it.”
“I didn’t realize it until he was gone. Then I was so ashamed. I should never have let my self-worth be tied to Adam Lawson. I can see my life with a new perspective from here.” She hesitated. “I have new friends at work and church, and an amazing new man in my life.”
“How are you and Kieran doing?” Kari’s tone was wary.
Bonny was thankful she hadn’t told Kari about Kieran’s doubts. “We walk three times a week. At least three nights a week we eat dinner together, and on weekends he takes me sightseeing or riding at his farm. Our fly-fishing experience was fun. We enjoy being together.”
