by Diane Darcy
He exhaled a gust of breath, turned, and made his way back down the stairs and to the guesthouse, the three dogs following behind.
They all went inside and he shut the door.
The three lined up, looking up at him in question.
He grinned at them. “Don’t look tae me, for I doonae ken what just happened, either.”
He glanced around, still feeling the happiness of being with her.
There was a vase with flowers that couldn’t be real on the table, and it gave him an idea.
Within fifteen minutes, he’d retrieved some twine from the barn, taken the flowers from the vase, and even found a bit of vine to tear off of the fence and wrap around the flowers.
He tied the bundle together, and climbing the steps once more, laid it on the table just beside the front door.
Would she know it was from him? He moved it to the chair, and then finally decided to tie it to the post at the top of the stairs.
After he did so, he stood back to survey his handiwork.
Perfect. She wouldn’t be able to miss it.
He might not be very well versed in the art of courting, but even he knew that ladies liked flowers.
He hoped she didn’t mind that they weren’t real.
As soon as he could find some real ones, he’d remedy the situation.
Mandy deserved the best he could offer.
And he’d make sure that she got it.
The next day Mandy considered ditching out on pie making with an excuse of morning sickness, but changed her mind and hurried out the door.
She was halfway down the porch stairs before she stopped and glanced back at the bundle of flowers tied to the post. She slowly backed up and it took her a moment to recognize them as the ones that were on Calum’s kitchen table.
It took her another moment to realize that he must have made this bundle for her. She couldn’t think of another explanation.
She reached forward, to untie the flowers, and noticed that he’d wrapped it with fresh ivy. Her heart was melting into a puddle at the sweetness of it.
She turned around, went back inside, found a vase, and set the flowers on the table.
The fact that she felt giddy, light, and excited over a bundle of plastic flowers she’d purchased herself, should leave her feeling ridiculous, but it didn’t.
What she felt was happy.
She hurried back out the door and showed up at Sierra’s house at exactly noon. She’d give herself points for being on time, but figured if she wasn’t, Sierra would send out a rescue squad.
Or at least call her mercilessly until she showed up.
And, if she claimed nausea, she’d be getting a bowl of soup later that would only make her feel guilty.
Plus, she didn’t want to miss the spring social.
So many excuses, so many reasons not to use them.
Sierra was opening the front door before Mandy had even finished climbing the porch stairs.
“Hi! Let me help you with that!”
Mandy leaped forward to take the bag of ingredients Mandy had brought along for the pumpkin pies.
Sierra looked inside. “You didn’t need to bring anything.”
“Unless it was that hunky guy living at your place!” Deanna called out from the kitchen.
Sierra rolled her eyes, but was laughing all the same. She and her mother shared a love of teasing, and Mandy rolled her eyes, knowing she was in for it this afternoon.
“Sorry to say, I couldn’t fit a Highlander in my bag.”
“You should have tried harder,” Sierra said as she closed the door behind Mandy. “Next time, forget the canned pumpkin so there’s more room.”
“Ha ha.” They made their way into the kitchen and as Sierra settled the bag on the table and started to withdraw ingredients, Deanna, an older version of Sierra, turned around.
“Welcome, welcome!” Deanna, wearing one of Mandy’s ladybug aprons, set down a big wooden spoon and turned to engulf Mandy in a big hug. “How’s that little baby doing?”
“He’s fine. I’m feeling a little sluggish at times, but he’s taken up boxing.”
“Ha! My Braden was like that. You’re in for it when he’s born.” She moved forward to grab a piece of paper off the table and then held it up to both of them. “All right, girls. Here’s the plan. We are going to win that contest tomorrow night, and Tiffany Pagett is going to eat my dust!”
As Deanna said the last, she picked up her big wooden spoon and held it up in the air like a deranged Viking holding a sword.
Mandy and Sierra laughed.
“Eat our dust, don’t you mean, Mom. Unless you’re planning on making these pies by yourself.”
Deanna waved the spoon. “Me, you, Mandy. It doesn’t matter who gets the credit here, so long as Tiffany doesn’t.”
As Deanna and Sierra continued to banter, Mandy found herself smiling. This was exactly what she needed to be doing today. Getting her mind off of her troubles, real and imagined, and just have some uncomplicated fun.
She picked up the list Deanna had abandoned and read it aloud, “Two pumpkin, two chocolate cream, two lemon meringue, and a quiche?”
“The quiche is for dinner tonight,” Deanna said.
“Are we using store-bought crust, or making it homemade?” Mandy asked, just to get a reaction.
Both women turned to her, identical aghast expressions on their faces.
Mandy threw her head back and laughed. “Just kidding!”
Sierra started to laugh, but Deanna just shook her head. “If I hadn’t known your mother personally, I’d think you were raised in a barn. A barn I tell ya!”
Still laughing, Mandy started lining ingredients up on the table. One of the things she loved about Deanna so much was that she mentioned Mandy’s parents quite often. So many people had stopped doing that after they’d died, but Deanna, who’d been best friends with her mother, had kept their memory alive.
“Are you using your Grandma Amanda’s recipe, or do you want to use mine?” Deanna asked.
“I’ll use my grandma’s.”
The difference in recipes was simply 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon, but an ongoing point of contention. If Mandy didn’t watch the batter closely enough, Deanna would sneak a bit more in.
“So, how is that hunky Highlander?”
“Mom! You said you weren’t going to say anything!”
“What?” Deanna affected an air of innocence. “It would be un-neighborly not to ask about the newest member of our community.”
“He was fine, last I saw him,” Mandy answered before Sierra could continue the argument. Anyway, she knew Sierra wanted to know as well.
“And when was that?”
“Mom!” Sierra sounded agonized this time. “Seriously?”
“What? I wasn’t asking if they were doing anything inappropriate.” She turned to look at Mandy. “Or were you? Doing something inappropriate, I mean?”
As Sierra groaned and shook her head, Mandy chuckled. “I saw him earlier at breakfast, and then he went off with Grandpa to get some work done.”
“So, any tingles?”
“Mom!”
Mandy openly laughed again. This is why she loved to spend time over here. There were times she could use the comic relief.
“I’m six months pregnant. Tingles are at a minimum.”
At that, Deanna turned around and put a hand on her hip. “Oh, really? Because as I remember it —”
“Not another word, or I swear I will never make you a grandmother!”
Deanna sniffed, but remained silent.
Mandy turned away and let out a slow breath, relieved that she didn’t have to make any awkward denials.
Awkward because they might be able to tell she was lying, mostly to herself.
She got started and over the next few hours they shaped crusts to Deanna’s satisfaction, mixed and baked, until Deanna declared that all six pies were masterpieces.
“I’d like to see Tiffany win that co
ntest now!”
Mandy exchanged grins with Sierra and, for the moment, all was right in her world.
Cold as it was today, all was right in his world.
Calum loved working with his hands and Joe was proving to be a font of information about all things farming, life, and Mandy.
“That first boyfriend of hers? Oh, yeah, he was a piece of work,” Joe said as he lifted another bale of hay onto the back of the flat-bed trailer.
He moved aside so Calum could do the same. “He lives in town, you know, he’s been married twice, has three kids, and there’s not a girl around here that would touch him now.”
Calum only nodded, hoping the man would continue.
Joe snorted. “High school sweetheart, my aunt Bertha’s behind. You don’t know who someone is when they’re still in high school. Your character’s not quite set. You’ve got to wait a few years if you want to know which direction a body is headed.”
Calum wasn’t sure what high school was, but didn’t want to say so as he continued to help load the hay. “Ye said first, so there was another man?” Calum knew he should feel a little guilty about digging for information about past romantic rivals, but all advantages were fair in love and war, or so the saying went.
“Oh, yeah, there was another,” Joe was resting, hands on his hips as he caught his breath. “Some dude she met in college. Turned out he was getting it on with some wannabe Victoria’s Secret model the whole time. Mandy was more presentable to his mother so he was juggling both until Mandy was good and hooked.”
There was so much in that statement he didn’t understand. “So, her heart was broken?”
“I’d say so.” Joe suddenly shot Calum a measuring look. “I’m not telling you this so you can break it too. Understand?”
“I’ve nae intention of doing such a thing. I’ve asked her tae marry me, though I’ve yet tae receive a proper response.”
“Huh. Maybe she worries you’ll turn out like the others.”
“I’d never do anythin’ tae hurt her.”
“Maybe not, but girls are like horses. If they’ve been hurt in the past, they remember it and it takes a long while to earn their trust.”
That sounded like the truth, but Calum wasn’t happy about it. Mandy needed a husband now, before the babe was born, so he could give the bairn his name and erase Mandy’s shame.
He’d have to think on it.
The two of them finished loading the trailer with hay, and then Calum jumped into the driver’s side of the truck. He liked the vehicle much more than the wagons he’d used in his time.
Joe jumped into the passenger side with a grin. “You can drive, but you’ve got to take it really slow with the trailer on back.”
Calum did take it slow, much to Joe’s consternation, but enjoyed every second of it. He grinned at his new friend. “Tell me about the horses again. It has the power of how many horses? Under the hood?”
Joe shook his head. “Three hundred and fifty. You’re a weirdo, you know that? My wife wants to go to Scotland on a vacation, but if you’re all a bunch of know-nothings, I’m thinking my time might be better spent on a beach.”
Calum laughed. “We’ve those aplenty. Cold, dreary things. No one goes near them, however, on account of the sea monsters waiting in the waves to snatch unwary travelers.”
Joe laughed. “You’re dumb as a rock, son, but I like you just fine.”
Calum grinned as he continued their slow journey down the road. Slow to Joe, anyway, if his urgings to speed up were any indication.
But Calum had never driven this fast even with a two-horse wagon. He wanted to enjoy it and get there in once piece.
He’d soon have a family to think about, after all.
Chapter 8
When Mandy made it back to the house, she found herself alone.
She hadn’t expected her grandfather to be home, so her disappointment clued her in on the fact that she’d been hoping to see Calum.
Oh, boy.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
She’d left hamburger thawing on the counter earlier and started frying it up with an onion for spaghetti.
By the time she’d finished making the sauce and set it on a low heat to simmer, she figured she’d looked out the window at least five times.
Was this her being pathetic? Or, more likely, simply a normal red-blooded woman?
She’d long since convinced herself that she didn’t need a man for support of any kind.
She could make her own money.
She had a good support system with friends, her grandfather, and their tight-knit community.
She did!
So why, exactly, was she mooning over Calum?
She retrieved a notebook from the shelf in the living room, settled down in the leather recliner, and started to doodle with some ideas for a new sweater vest for autumn when she heard a vehicle crunching down the driveway.
She purposefully didn’t rise to go see who it was.
When she realized her pen was poised over the paper while she waited to see if Grandpa came inside or not, she scoffed at herself.
Seriously. Was it the marriage proposal that was messing with her head? Or the man himself?
When Grandpa never came inside, she purposefully set pen to paper once more. She doubted Calum would come up to the house until Grandpa arrived home, so she had a little more time to…
To what? Get ready to see him? Brace herself against the impact of his presence?
Sheesh.
Surely, she’d get used to having him around soon. Like a new piece of furniture that you noticed, admired, and then eventually it was commonplace.
She finally set the notebook and pen on the side table, folded up the recliner, and went into the kitchen to make a salad.
Like a normal person would.
Calum didn’t know if he’d ever get used to how wonderful a hot shower felt. As he cleaned himself up, enjoying every second of it, he continued to try and puzzle out his situation.
On and off throughout the day he’d tried to think of different ways to quickly earn Mandy’s trust. To figure out what it was she wanted in a husband so he could convince her he was different from the men she’d known in the past.
He shut off the shower and reached for a towel. Conditions were different now, but surely, some matters remained universal between a man and a woman.
For himself, he would want a woman who was honest, true, loyal, hard-working, and good to her children.
No doubt she would want similar traits in a spouse.
He knew such qualities took time to assess, and wished he could give her a good, long while to test his mettle and allow him to prove himself worthy to be a husband to one such as she.
But there was another way.
A shortcut, the wily Scot inside him had whispered throughout the day.
The insidious thought worked its way into his brain, and though he’d discarded it repeatedly, kept coming back again.
There were women in his village, good women, who’d had the misfortune to end up married to less than desirable mates.
Men who did not have the attributes of a good husband— drunkards, quick to anger, slow to work— yet they’d managed to marry worthy women, regardless.
And how?
From what he’d viewed, women could be as weak as men when it came to the opposite sex. A fair face, and pretty words could often sway the most morally upright of ladies. His mother, and his friend, Eleanor, were perfect examples.
Eleanor had been a good woman, as respectable as they came, and yet the last word he’d heard of her was that, unwed, she’d been expecting a babe.
If anyone would have asked, he’d have denied the possibility. He’d have said he knew her character too well to believe she could fall for the wiles of a dishonorable man.
And yet … she had.
As had Mandy, apparently.
Which led him to believe she could be tempted.
He was
not a vain man, but he’d seen the way she looked at him.
With interest.
Looking away when he caught her gaze.
There was something there, and he’d use it if it meant she’d agree to wed him.
They could work out the particulars of who they were later.
Granted, he’d never seduced a woman in his life, much less one expecting a babe, but he’d eyes in his head, and had observed much over the years.
He could seduce her with words, looks, touches.
Kisses.
He wiped at the mirror in the bathroom to get rid of the fog and so he could look himself in the eyes.
This was for a greater good. He’d noble reasons for such an unsavory path, but still couldn’t help but note that his musings were having an effect upon him.
He looked away from the mirror and grabbed a cup beside the sink and filled it with water. He took a long drink, hoping it would cool him down.
Because he couldn’t help but picture those kisses. Could imagine how it would feel to pull her into his arms. To press his lips to her soft ones. He could picture her beautiful face, flushed with desire, for him.
Calum sucked in a deep breath, even as he went into the next room to don his new shirt, pull on his new jeans, and make himself presentable for her.
As he put his boots on, he could feel his heart beating faster than normal, and once again considered that this might be the wrong path.
They’d taken him in, given him a job, made him welcome and at home.
But Red was head of their household, and he wanted Mandy wed.
Calum was certainly willing.
If he had the time, he’d choose a different path. A more honorable one where he’d take the time to prove himself to her.
He took another breath, let it out slowly, and walked to the front door. He opened it and closed it carefully behind him, stopped, and looked up at the bigger house.
Just knowing Mandy was waiting within, fortified his resolve as he started to walk.
Dishonorable, or not, in the end it would be the right thing.
Surely, Mandy would eventually see that?
