by Norma Gail
He rubbed his forehead in frustration. He didn’t need more criticism. “She may be a wee biddie, but she’s as hearty a woman as you or my mother any day. I must have inherited my Da’s affinity for redheads. She’s tough, Eleanor. Her great-grandparents were pioneers in the American West. She grew up in the mountains around horses, hunting, and fishing, and she beats me at hiking. Get to know her. You’ll discover I’m right, I promise.”
Eleanor turned back to preparing tea, but he noticed the china clinking harder than necessary, as she laid her tray. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Kieran hadn’t taken Bonny upstairs before. His mother had raised him with strong morals, and Bonny respected him more because of his standards. The top of the curving staircase provided her first view of the grand old house from a different perspective, creating again the odd sensation of stepping into another time.
Eleanor kept the wainscoting of dark mahogany polished to a fine sheen, and the smooth wood of the banister showed the patina of hundreds of MacDonell hands. The massive chandelier of stag’s antlers, which she had admired on previous visits, spread its light throughout the large foyer. Wall sconces, each made of a single antler, lit the walls of deep green, hung with ancient portraits of MacDonells from the glory days of clans and chieftains.
Lost in her survey of Kieran’s forebears, she stopped at each portrait, looking for a family resemblance until she heard him laughing. “They don’t speak, you know. I realize your imagination is capable of creatin’ a plausible story for each of them, but the tea’s coolin’ off. Come and join Eleanor and me by the fire.” He held out his hand.
“They’re the people from your stories. It’s lovely, Laird MacDonell.” When she reached the bottom, he kissed her hand, holding it high in a chivalrous manner as he escorted her into the library. A fire crackled in the huge fireplace with the head of a monstrous red stag above the MacDonell coat of arms.
Eleanor sat ramrod straight in a wingback chair, the tea in front of her, ready to pour. The welcoming, homey scene was reminiscent of another century. She stood and greeted Bonny with warmth. “So you’re here at last. One would believe no other woman existed the way Kieran goes on.”
Bonny chose to accept it as a compliment. “Thank you.”
Kieran closed the draperies against the cold and came to where she stood near the fire. “We should drink our tea so Eleanor doesn’t need to heat more.” Looking at his housekeeper, he said, “Do you think this bonnie lass has the potential to breathe life into these old walls?”
She didn’t miss the reproach in his housekeeper’s eyes.
“Time will tell.”
Sensing dangerous territory, she tasted a scone from the plate Eleanor handed her. “These are delicious. Do you share your recipes?”
“You’ll know you’ve impressed Eleanor if she lets you into her kitchen.” Kieran reached for another, smearing it with jam. “She keeps her recipes under lock and key. However, she did pass them on to her daughters, Bridget and Kathleen. They work for my mother at the Inn in Beauly.”
After dinner, when the housekeeper retired, they snuggled up on the couch nearest the fireplace. He held her close, rubbing her earlobe with his finger. “What do you think?”
She grabbed his hand. “I love your home, and Eleanor is very nice. I expect to be cross-examined in-depth, though, to determine if I’m suitable for her bonnie laddie.”
“Ach, you should have heard Eleanor, concerned you weren’t suitable for life on a Highland sheep farm because of your delicate build. She warned me against getting carried away with ‘another red-haired beauty.’” In spite of the continuing rain, they climbed into the Land Rover and headed up toward the kyloe pasture, early the next morning.
“Her welcome was warm enough. Are you certain you aren’t?” When he looked puzzled, she added, “Attracted by my red hair, I mean.”
He laughed, pulling her closer. “My mother’s hair was the color of yours before turning white. Though, if I had to choose your most bewitching physical characteristic, I’d pick your eyes, the deep green of Alba. Eleanor watches over me like a lad of fourteen rather than a man of forty. When you went upstairs after breakfast, she said perhaps she was a wee bit hasty. Considering your faded jeans and worn Wellies, you must know your way around a stable.”
“So worn Wellies will earn her approval? What will get me into her good graces on a more solid basis?”
“Being the sweet woman I fell in love with. By the end of the weekend, she’ll tell my mother what a lovely lass I found.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “She’ll love you when she sees how happy I am.”
Bonny wanted to absorb everything, begging him to stop for occasional photos of the lush forest and pastureland rising above the storm-tossed loch. The scent of damp grass and evergreens filled the air with a heavenly aroma. Kieran pointed out a majestic stag, one antler lost in battle, standing at attention on the hillside above, before disappearing into the vaporous fog.
They were alone in a hushed world blanketed in mist and cloud. Surrounded by mountains and rushing burns, the enchantment cast its spell over her. Kieran and the idyllic setting called to her heart as one.
Bonny tromped through the mud with Kieran all day, ignoring the rain as he checked on the well-being of his animals. She had paid attention a few weeks earlier when she accompanied him for the sheep dipping. It was a nasty job done twice a year to protect them from fleas, ticks, and parasites. That experience might just help her show Eleanor she was prepared to face anything a Highland sheep farm might send her way.
The sheep-dipping had made it clear how Kieran kept his arms and shoulders muscular enough to compete in the Highland Games. The nasty task required manhandling the uncooperative sheep through a narrow gate leading to the trough. Once in, farmhands shoved the unwilling animals under the chemical dip. It was necessary to immerse them until their mouth, nose, and eyes burned, before allowing them to scurry up the ramp. Kieran worked alongside the others, claiming no special privileges as owner.
She had laughed at Kieran, Angus, and the others as she surveyed the dirty, stinking group, laughed so hard in fact, that Angus had suggested dipping disrespectful females.
The loch laid placid, clothed in the colors of autumn, and the air echoed with the sound of stunning stags in rut, their antlers clashing and thwacking as they struggled for supremacy. Their “roaring” echoed through the dense, wet air as they announced their readiness for battle and gathered their harems for mating. Hearing their roar for the first time, Bonny jumped in surprise, expecting something similar to the high-pitched bugling of American elk. Yes, it was a life she could live, a life with the man she loved. The holidays were coming. Would he ask her?
Another weekend, she had accompanied Kieran and his hired men as they drove lorries of sheep to the Fort William market. On the way, he quizzed her to see how well she was learning her lessons about sheep. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
As serious as she could be, she replied, “Female sheep are called ewes, rams are males, and lambs are babies.”
“That’s all you’ve learned?”
She didn’t waste her opportunity to prove how well she had listened. “I’ll show you a thing or two, Dr. MacDonell. Castrated males are ‘wether’ lambs. They’re easier to handle than rams. A ‘tup’ is a ram used for breeding or ‘tupping.’” A pleased smile had spread over his face. “A lamb is less than one year old and hasn’t produced offspring. Its meat is called lamb, while mutton comes from a sheep more than a year old.”
Kieran’s laugh made her studying worthwhile. “We’ll turn you into a sheep farmer yet.”
“I read up on the Internet. I’m interested.”
She smiled to herself, remembering how he stopped the Land Rover, grinning from ear to ear.
“How did I find someone fascinated with everything I love?”
“I enjoy being with you, so what you care about is important.” Her eyes searched the lush pastures from side to side. “Breedin
g season for the sheep starts in a couple of weeks. Do you plan to pair certain couples off for mating?”
She remembered how the corners of his eyes crinkled at that. “Bonny, they’re not dating. It’s breeding, and anxious rams will cover as many ewes as we allow. But yes, I plan to breed specific pairs to obtain the strongest offspring. Everything settles down some after tupping is over, meaning more time for you.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Sounds great to me, though I suspect Angus thinks you have more romance on your mind than sheep.”
He reddened, shrugging. “You bet I do. A woman like you only comes along once. In the spring you’ll want to be here all the time, for the lambing. My parents come down for it. Bronwyn loved to help with the lambing.”
He had placed his arm around her shoulders, and Bonny leaned her head against his wool-covered arm. “I’ll be back from Kari and Dan’s wedding by then. I don’t want to miss anything.”
Things were different now that winter was coming. The sheep were in the lower pastures, divided into separate fields in preparation for tupping. “The cattle are still higher up. They can winter outside.”
“Oh, I expected to see them again. They’re so cute.”
“Don’t worry.” With both of his hands back on the wheel, they bounced across a grassy meadow toward a rough trail, in a heavy sleet. “We’ll find them. It’s rough going.”
“I love it. It’s no rougher than four-wheeling with Dad in the Land Cruiser.” By the time they headed back, she longed for dry clothes, a warm fire, and a cup of tea, but it had been a wonderful day. “There’s something else I can tell you.”
He glanced sideways. “What?”
They hit an especially hard bump and she grabbed the handle above the door. “Cattle and sheep can’t share pastures.”
“And how would you know that, more reading?”
“My great-grandfather raised cattle. He had a long-running feud with neighboring sheep ranchers, partly because the sheep eat grass down to the ground, leaving nothing for the cattle. Cattle eat the tops of the grass, and it grows back better.” He beamed with pleasure, making her homework worthwhile.
“You’re amazing.”
“You’re pretty special yourself. I’ll reward you with dinner.”
“Reward? You’re the one showing off.” He reached over and ruffled the hair escaping from its knot.
“You’re sharing your home and your life with me. We’ll have the green-chile stew I brought, since Eleanor’s in town. Should we invite her and Angus for stew when they return?”
“She’ll eat with her children in town and her son will bring her back afterward. She isn’t as adventurous in her cuisine as you are. Besides, I want the company of the cook to myself.”
Yes, she would enjoy farm life, given the opportunity. The yearning in his eyes made her heart beat faster. This incredible man, so tender in his love, might one day belong to her.
While Kieran caught up on some paperwork, Bonny sought out Eleanor. Hoping to reinforce her down-to-earth side, Bonny wore gray sweats, her hair flowing around her shoulders in a riot of curls. “Thank you for the mouthwatering meals, Eleanor. You’ve been so welcoming. Can I help with anything?”
Eleanor pointed to a pile of potatoes and a peeler. “A hearty welcome is the best dish in a Scottish kitchen. He’s very happy, which makes it easy to welcome you. I understand you have differences where his beliefs are concerned.”
“He told you?” Bonny stopped, holding the potato peeler in mid-air.
Eleanor set down her spoon, turning to face her with narrowed brown eyes. “I’ve known him since the day he was born, and we discuss almost everything. He’s wrong on this. Keep challenging him, lass.”
“I’m not having any success.” Bonny kept her voice low. “A chasm opened up between us after I told him I felt God’s presence when I prayed. He insists he can’t trust God because He allowed Bronwyn and Liam to die. I’ve suggested his choice will decide our future, but I don’t want to lose him.”
“You can’t lower your standard.” Eleanor laid a weathered hand on Bonny’s arm. “A marriage without a shared faith is destined for problems. I believe he’ll return to it though.”
Convinced a herd of kyloe was in the house, Bonny turned to see Kieran lumbering down the back stairs. “What are you two discussing with such serious expressions?”
Eleanor waved him away. “Wash up for dinner.”
After dinner, Eleanor seated herself in a corner under a lamp with her cross-stitch, tapping her foot in time as they sang, spelling each other at the piano. When they finished “Loch Lomond,” Kieran said, “Bonny, sing your solo from church for Eleanor. I’ll accompany you.”
She relinquished her place on the piano bench, marveling at the delicate touch with which his big fingers moved over the keys.
“Your voice is as clear as a sunny day.” Eleanor wiped her eyes with a hanky. “What a lovely rendition of ‘Be Thou My Vision.’ Laddie, don’t let her get away.”
“No one receives such a high approval rating that fast.” He winked at Bonny.
“Kari.” Bonny phoned on Saturday afternoon while Kieran and Angus discussed the upcoming week. “Kari, it’s me. How are you and Dan?”
The answer was a choked sob. “The infection in his legs isn’t responding to the antibiotics. They’re considering amputating his right leg below the knee.”
An icy knife passed through her heart. “Oh Kari, no …”
Kari sobbed, “I shouldn’t complain. I want him alive and out of pain.”
“Of course you do. What does he say?” Bonny was shaking so hard, she found it difficult to hold the phone.
“He’s ready to heal and go home.” She hiccupped. “The improvement is very slow. His eyesight is fine, and his arms will have no noticeable scarring. The skin grafts on his back are taking, and the doctors seem pleased with his progress otherwise.”
“I can’t bear to think of him having to go through this, but we’ll rest easier when his life is out of danger.” Bonny tried her best to sound positive, remembering how he loved to hike, climb in the mountains, fly fish, and hunt from horseback.
“The infection has gone into the bone and he’s in so much pain. Overall, he has a good attitude. He doesn’t believe it will improve and wants to get on with his life.” She paused, and Bonny heard her blowing her nose. “It’s his best chance.”
The drops sliding down Bonny’s cheeks kept pace with the raindrops on her bedroom window. “Call me if they decide to operate. We’re praying over here.”
“Thank you. What’s up with you?”
Bonny pulled a crocheted blanket over her legs. “I’m so ecstatic I feel guilty when you’re having such a difficult time. I’m spending a long weekend at Kieran’s farm, although it’s more of an estate. Kari, it’s so gorgeous here. The old stone house is right on Loch Garry, surrounded by forests with meadows full of sheep, and magnificent mountains. There’s fishing in the loch and the river. Bronwyn planted flower gardens everywhere. Did I tell you they filmed ‘Braveheart’ and ‘Rob Roy’ in this area?”
“You know what I mean.”
She sighed at the frustration in her friend’s voice. “I love him, Kari, and he loves me. My relationship with the Lord is growing stronger. Everything is more wonderful than I ever dreamed.”
The irritation in Kari’s voice grew stronger. “How is Kieran’s walk with the Lord?”
Bonny wished she had never let it slip the last time they talked. “He’s struggling, but Eleanor, his housekeeper, believes he’ll come around. He needs the right circumstances to remind him of God’s grace and faithfulness, the same as me. Pray for him.”
Kari’s voice grew stern. “I’ll pray for both of you. You’re so vulnerable. Being alone isn’t the worst that can happen.”
“You know I didn’t come here to fall in love. Remember how it upset you when Dan offered to break your engagement, or the infection threatened to take him from you? Ple
ase try to understand. I’ve found a very special man to love. Can’t you be glad for me?” She was angry. Kari had her family, and Dan and his. She had no one.
“You’re on shaky ground. God set specific guidelines for marriage. Wait until the two of you agree before committing yourself. You don’t need more heartbreak.”
Bonny changed the subject, refusing to argue again. “What’s happening with your wedding plans? Will Dan be home by then?”
Kari rambled on and on, but Bonny was willing to listen as long as she didn’t criticize Kieran.
Sunday morning, Bonny arose early and spent time praying and reading the Psalms in her window seat, overlooking Ben Tee to the south. The rain had stopped, and a heavy mist hung low over the loch, obscuring the dense woods with the mountain rising above it.
At breakfast, she suggested a ride, and they headed for a rocky hill above the farmhouse, where they looked down on the farm, the loch, and south to the forests and mountains. As a shaft of sunlight shot its way through the clouds she felt a thrill of delight. “It reminds me of the song, ‘Highland Cathedral.’”
“How does farm life suit you?”
The morning sun sparkling in his eyes reminded her of sapphires, his hair shining a deep, burnished gold, as breathtaking as the view.
“I believe I’d enjoy it.”
Sidepassing Storm closer to Misty, he reached for her hand. “Do you have plans for Christmas?”
Her heart beat faster. “Nothing definite. Janet mentioned including me with her family.”
He dismounted, reaching up to help her down, and drawing her into his arms. “I want you to spend Christmas and Hogmanay in Beauly with my parents and me. They need to meet the amazing woman who stole my heart and turned my world inside out.”
The idea of spending the rest of her life in his warm, strong arms left her speechless. She leaned her face against the solid strength of his chest. He had disappointed her again by ignoring Sunday, when Angus and Eleanor drove into Fort William for church. But there was still time for change before Christmas, so she said, “I’ll consider it.”
