by Norma Gail
“Delivery for Dr. Bonny Bryant.”
Puzzled, she signed and shut the door, carrying the long box to the kitchen table. “Kieran, what have you done now?”
She removed the top from the box, revealing a bouquet of two dozen red and white roses tied with a red ribbon. Her fingers shook as she opened the card. “To Bonny, with love. Please remember. Forever, Adam.”
The postscript read, “Don’t miss the small box in the bottom.”
She lifted the roses out and discovered the small, pink, velvet box containing her engagement ring. Memories of what seemed like a long-ago time overwhelmed her, and she sat down hard, closing her eyes. They had eaten dinner at High Finance, a restaurant at the top of Sandia Peak and lingered to ride the last tram car down the mountain, a beautiful ride with the lights of Albuquerque spreading out below them. She had been surprised that no one else was with them for the ride down until he explained he had paid for the entire car, so they could be alone.
Adam had knelt before her, asking her to marry him. And when she said yes, he placed the ring of rose-gold with a rose-cut diamond on her finger. Now, as it sparkled in its box, she tried to remember how she felt back then. The memories were eclipsed by thoughts of the day she removed it from her finger and shoved it into his hand when he confessed his affair with an attorney in his office.
She would return the ring. “Adam, you’re much too late.” She carried the roses out back and placed them in the trash.
Chapter Nineteen: Conversations, Revelations, and Struggles
Kieran walked down High Street concentrating on his list of errands. Bonny’s weekend at the farm had convinced him he wanted a life with her. It also meant he must deal with his anger over Bronwyn’s death. On their tour of the farmhouse, he had skipped the room they once shared. The idea of changing it disturbed him, but he knew he must leave the past where it belonged.
The physical attraction, present since the first time he saw Bonny, grew by the day, as did their emotional attachment. He knew she felt it too, sensing her reluctance to return to Fort William. It felt so natural to have her at the farm. She made it seem like home again, a place he wanted to be.
“Hello, Kieran.” A familiar voice startled him out of his private thoughts.
Looking up from his shopping list, he stood face to face with Graeme MacDholl. He shook the outstretched hand. “Hello, I need to finish a couple more errands before heading back to the farm.”
“Would you join me for a cup of tea?”
Lately, he planned his errands to avoid the church, but Graeme stood in front of him, and there was no escape. “Aye.”
Graeme tilted his head in the direction of a small restaurant across the street. “How about the Sugar and Spice?”
Wrested out of his musings, Kieran seated himself across from the pastor, waiting for him to begin the conversation.
“How’s the sheep business?” Graeme scooted his chair forward.
Kieran turned his chair sideways, trying to create more leg room. “It’s busy this time of year, what with tupping and winter coming, but it will slow down again before Christmas. Of course, now I come to town for choir practice, thanks to Bonny and Janet. I’ve practically taken up permanent residence at my Aunt Alice’s.”
Graeme laughed. “They are two energetic and persistent ladies. I wondered how you managed the drive from your farm so often.”
“Aye, well, even if I had to drive, there’s no point arguing with either of them.” The waitress approached and he set the menu aside. “Hello Sheena, I’ll have a pot of Earl Grey, please. Pastor, it’s on me.”
“Thank you.” Graeme nodded. “I’ll take the same, and it’s Graeme.” As Sheena walked away, he asked, “One of your students?”
“One of Bonny’s, I’ve met her a time or two when I attended Bonny’s lectures. Have you heard her teach?”
“No, I understand she’s causing quite a stir though.” Graeme spread a napkin in his lap as Sheena set the pots of tea down.
“Sheena, bring us a plate of my favorite scones, please.” Kieran balanced the spoon on his finger. He felt more comfortable discussing Bonny than himself. “The students and faculty both love her. Are you busy around the church?” Pouring his tea, he reached for the cream.
Graeme buttered a scone. “Aye, we’re busier around the holidays, especially with the musical this year. I peeked in on rehearsal the other night. Your voice adds the depth the choir was lacking.”
“Thank you. I sang in the chorus at university and in the church choir before my wife died. It’s lovely to sing with Bonny. She has a special gift.” Kieran picked up another scone.
“Yes, she does. We’re blessed by both of you.” Graeme put jam on his second scone. “Where did you attend church before Bonny brought you to Faith Chapel?”
“I grew up in the Church of Scotland.” He hurried through the basics. “I haven’t attended with any regularity since my wife died two years ago.”
“Faith Chapel must be very different for you.” Graeme propped his elbows on the table, his brown eyes expectant.
Kieran shifted in his seat. “Yes, but I appreciate your preaching. You’re straightforward.” The moment for complete honesty had arrived, and he didn’t welcome it.
The pastor poured another cup of tea, so relaxed he could be discussing the fog over the loch. “If it’s not prying, how did your wife’s death affect your faith?”
Unable to sit still, Kieran leaned his chair back on two legs. “The death of my wife and son caused me to doubt everything. I’ll admit, I don’t believe in the personal God you preach. I’ve spent over two years angry with God. I’m in church for Bonny.”
“I see you’re an aefauld man, such straightforward honesty is something I don’t see every day.” Graeme’s expression remained unchanged. “To my understanding, Bonny had much the same struggle. We talked after her friend Dan’s injury.”
“Aye, she did.” Kieran felt the panic of a trapped bird, fluttering here and there with no escape. “She’s patient and understanding. She’s agreed to give me time.”
Graeme emptied his teapot, and leaned back in his chair. “If I can help, don’t hesitate to ring me.”
“I expected a sermon.” The pastor’s easy acceptance of his last comment surprised him.
Graeme laughed, and Kieran noticed that the left side of his mouth turned up more than the right. “I am concerned, believe me, but God will deal with you at the right time.”
“I appreciate you not lecturing me.” Kieran relaxed more than any time since they met. He waved at Sheena. “Can you bring me the bill, please?”
Graeme met his eyes with candor and warmth. “I don’t believe in lecturing. An experience such as yours challenges many people’s faith. In the ninth chapter of the Gospel of Mark, the father of the demon-possessed boy asked Jesus to help his unbelief, and Jesus didn’t judge him for it. Stop in sometime, if you need a listening ear.”
“Thanks. Things are becoming serious between Bonny and me. We need to deal with our differences.” He was surprised how comfortable he felt talking to the pastor.
Sheena handed him the bill and both men stood, shaking hands. “I enjoyed visiting with you. I have an appointment at the kirk.”
“Yes,” Kieran said, somewhat stunned at the easy camaraderie. “I enjoyed it too.”
Kari’s sobbing made her voicemail difficult to understand. “They’re amputating Dan’s right leg below the knee this morning. The infection isn’t responding, and he spiked a fever again. He’s come to terms with it easier than the rest of us. I’ll let you know when he’s out of surgery.”
Once again, Bonny fell to her knees in prayer and then phoned Kieran. “He’s my oldest friend. We grew up climbing trees, hiking, and riding, and now—I can’t believe it. He’s a superb horseman. He loves to camp and hike. Kieran …”
“Love, you’ve portrayed Dan as a man of courage, faith, and physical strength. Consider that. With the advances they’re making
in prosthetics, he should be able to do almost anything he wants, in time.” His deep voice had such a calming effect.
She sniffled. “You’re right, but …”
“But they’re your good friends, and you feel far away right now.”
She coughed and cleared her throat. “I’ve deserted them. They’ve helped me so many times.”
“I’ll see you this evening. You might know more by then.”
She heard a muffled sound on his end. “Kieran, are you crying?”
“I hate for my bonnie lass to cry alone without me to hold her. I’ll finish with Angus and come early. Beannachd leit, mo annsachd.”
“Tha gaol agam ort.” She hung up the phone and prayed for Dan, longing for Kieran to join her prayers.
“Hey, Carrot-Top, I wanted to tell you, I’m fine.”
“Dan? I can’t believe you’re calling me straight out of surgery. I’m so sorry I’m not there.” Bonny stopped, choking back a sob.
“The morphine’s working right now. Don’t worry. I’ll be doing tricks on my prosthesis before the wedding. No crying. I wanted to serve my country, and I’d do it again.” The strength in his voice was encouraging.
She steeled herself to sound strong. “Yes sir, Major MacDermott. No more crying.”
“That’s my girl. Is Kieran with you?”
“Yes.”
“Hand him the phone, please.” He groaned, and she heard sheets rustling.
Kieran’s eyes widened when she turned on the speaker and handed him the phone. “Dan, I’m so sorry. Can I do something for you?”
“Take care of my girl. Make her smile and keep her from worrying.”
Dan, ever the loving guardian her father knew he would be, even from his hospital bed.
Kieran laughed, but his voice cracked as Bonny felt a quiver run through him. “Aye, I’ll do my best. When you’re better, we’ll talk sometime. She’s quite a woman.”
“One of a kind,” Dan said. “Thank you for taking care of her. The nurse is here. Bye.”
Kieran hung up the phone, clearing his throat as he embraced Bonny.
“I guess you have your orders.”
“Quite a friend you have there, thanking me for taking care of you.” He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. “He’s a brave man.”
Rain pelted the windows, but the glow of the fire prevented the dark from overwhelming them as they stared into the flames. She didn’t need words, only the security of Kieran’s arms.
A Saturday hike in Glen Coe was usually a source of fun. Reaching a rock where they sometimes stopped to rest, Bonny gestured toward it. “Sit down. There’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”
Kieran sat, pulling her toward his lap, but she resisted, standing before him clasping and unclasping her hands. “What’s wrong? We can deal with anything together, love.”
Grabbing her hands, he stopped her from massaging her throat, unnamed fears flashing through his mind.
“I’ve had problems for a long time, female problems.” She pulled one hand away, but he caught it again and held it tight as she continued. “I saw a doctor when Adam and I were engaged, and he suggested testing to determine the problem. Kieran, the doctors said it would be difficult, if not impossible, to have children. I had major surgery, but the problems returned. I—I thought Adam found someone else because of it.”
He stared at her, unable to speak for a moment, held by the lustrous green of her eyes and the trepidation in her voice. The sudden death of his desire for a family was a shock. He felt fear in her trembling hands and swallowed hard. “I love you, Bonny. I won’t treat you the way he did. All I want is your love.”
He wiped her cheek with his finger. The warmth of her tears stood in stark contrast to the icicle piercing his heart as she struggled to speak. “I—I shouldn’t have waited so long. You want children …”
“Wheesht, it’s all right.” He drew her to his lap, stroking her hair and whispering his love as sadness for her pain, and the loss of his hoped for heir, squeezed one more dream out of his heart. “Tha mo gaol gu bràth. My love is forever. Relax, mo chridhe, you’re so tense.”
“There’s more.”
He willed himself to say nothing, waiting …
“It’s Adam. He keeps contacting me in sneaky ways. Envelopes with someone else’s return address. Phone calls from different numbers since I blocked his. And now …”
Kieran bit his lip hard. “Now?”
“I received flowers the other day and assumed they were from you. I had to sign for them, which was odd, but in with them I found Adam’s engagement ring. He included a note asking me to remember the dream we once shared. I sent the ring back the same day, with no response, and threw two dozen roses in the garbage bin.”
“What do you intend to do?” He pushed her to her feet and stood up, heading down the trail toward the car. What was he supposed to feel? She hadn’t kept them, but she hadn’t been forceful enough to stop Adam’s attention either. He turned back to face her.
“Isn’t sending the ring back enough?”
He willed his voice to remain calm. This was a lot to take all at once. “How do you plan to keep him from getting in touch with you again? Will you see him when you go for the wedding?”
She stopped, staring at him with her mouth wide, tears trickling down her cheeks. “You know I don’t want to see him. I’ve told him to stop. I’ve ignored him, blocked him, and changed my number. He doesn’t quit.”
“Bonny, I want him out of your life, unless you still love him.” The pressure cooker in his heart felt ready to explode.
She shook her head. “You know I don’t. There’s no reason to be jealous.”
“First you say you can’t have children, when you’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell me. Then I find out you haven’t stopped Adam’s attention.”
Rivulets flowed down her cheeks, leaving black smears of mascara behind. “I—I’m sorry, Kieran. I was afraid to tell you. You know I changed my number weeks ago. I don’t know how he got the new one. I don’t.”
White-hot anger forced itself up, exploding before he gained control. “Afraid? Have I ever given you reason to feel afraid?”
“No.” It was raining harder, and she shivered.
“I promised you I wouldn’t lie, but when you leave out important details, it’s the same as lying. It matters. You can’t stop Adam from contacting you by mail, but I have to know you’re telling the truth.” He stalked down the path, leaving her behind.
“Kieran.” She ran up beside him, grasping at his sleeve. “I didn’t intend to lie.”
“Whether you intended it or not, you said nothing when you knew it mattered. I’ve talked about a family, about how I long for an heir.” He reached the Land Rover and swung open the driver’s side door.
Her breath came in gulping sobs. “Please forgive me. I should have told you. I’m sorry, Kieran.”
“Get in and I’ll take you home. You nag me about God, but you let me believe we could have a family.” He started the engine and backed out before she had her seatbelt on. “I have to think this over. In the meantime, let me be. When I have something to say, I know where to find you.”
The ride home was silent and tense. He sat with the engine running while she climbed out of the car, heading down the street before she reached the front door.
He drove all the way to the farm, anger and disappointment chasing him down like hungry wolves and tearing at his insides. Bonny’s announcement took him by surprise. He loved children and had anticipated she would give him another chance to have the family he longed for. What wounded him the most was that she had numerous opportunities to tell him and had held it back. Why was she so afraid?
She insisted that his lack of faith had bearing on the quality of a marriage relationship, yet she had been dishonest about something she knew was important to him.
The whole thing was crazy, a whirlwind romance with someone ten years younger, from another country
. What was he thinking?
Following a sleepless night, Kieran took one of the farm trucks and headed for the bothy. Solitude didn’t sound pleasant, but neither did the questions and curious glances of Eleanor and Angus.
During the day, he stalked the hills, his mind in a tumult of pain and longing. When he did sleep, he dreamed of Bonny—of holding her, warm and sweet smelling in his arms, and hearing her say she loved him. The memory of her face, wet with tears, and her voice pleading for his forgiveness, hurt to the depths of his being. He could live without children. He couldn’t live, didn’t want to live without her. She had never tried to have children, maybe the doctor was wrong. As for Adam, he wasn’t worth worrying about. All that mattered was the chance to spend his life with her.
He packed up and headed down the side of Cnocan Dubh, a mountain northeast of the farmhouse. Traveling a little-used trail to the A87, he headed for Fort William. She should be home from class by the time he arrived.
Rain was falling hard, and it was almost dark when Kieran pulled to a stop in front of the little cottage. Bonny’s face appeared at the window as he pulled into the drive. The door opened and she stood, silhouetted against the light, waiting, so small in stature but so large in heart. Scotland might have been an escape to allow her to gain a better perspective, but she didn’t run from the challenges of life.
“May I come in?” It was his turn to feel uncertain. In that moment, he knew why she hesitated to tell him she couldn’t have children. He had let her down by responding just as she feared he might.
“Please. Do you want a cup of tea?” she asked, as if she expected him.
“Yes, please. We need to talk.”
She had the water hot, and he stood in silence while she poured it into the pot and set the tea things on the tray. He carried it into the living room for her, all the time his heart was pounding like drums at the Tattoo.
“Bonny, I have to apologize. I am so sorry I got angry. On my way down the mountain, I was so afraid you wouldn’t want to see me again. My love for you is not dependent on your ability to produce an heir, like one of my prize ewes. I love you whether or not we can have children.”
