My Scottish Summer

by Connie Brockway

  Hardheaded pragmatic Minnesotans did not run off on summer vacations and fall in love on the basis of one unforgettable night. If they did, they most certainly kept it to themselves. He’d think she was juvenile, self-delusional, susceptible, and pathetic. The sort of woman who has to gild animal instinct in romantic terms. She wasn’t. She wasn’t like that at all.

  “Toni,” Dev said, stroking her hair from her face. And suddenly she knew she couldn’t stand it if he were to say something trite and clichéd and heartbreaking like, “I’ll call you when you’re back in the States.” Not because she wouldn’t believe him; but because she would. And when he didn’t call, it would break her heart.

  So when he started to speak again, she did the only thing she could think of to stop him… she kissed him. And so started the avalanche of desire flowing all over again.

  7

  They should have been edging around each other e stray cats caught in the same alley. She didn’t want to speak about last night, and she wouldn’t talk about tomorrow, leaving Dev at a loss as to how to act, what to say, how far to push her to make promises he wanted desperately to hear. But every time he tried to tell her how he felt, she shut him down completely.

  It hurt. He had no idea what she was thinking, what it had meant to her. It had meant the world to him. He’d held her in his arms, and everything had come together. But if she didn’t feel that way, if nothing remotely like it had happened for her… Yet she was still here, and she obviously felt something for him. He just couldn’t risk pushing her away.

  Ultimately, he could only accede to her unspoken entreaty and let the day happen. Whether or not either were willing to admit it, finding McGill had turned into an excuse to be together.

  It didn’t matter that Toni’s future was at stake. Today, for this one perfect day, there was no future. It didn’t matter that the fate of Dev’s beloved Blackie still needed to be determined. There was only this day and their unspoken agreement to live it to the fullest, to hoard every moment of it.

  Subsequently, their search for the missing manager was perfunctory. They strolled hand in hand among the crowds, talking, laughing, and nodding thoughtfully, meeting each other’s eyes when some obscure reference was understood and appreciated, hoarding every second and storing it away.

  In the end they didn’t find McGill; he ran into them. They were walking along the edges of the RV park, well away from the crowds, engaged in a heated debate over which was more disgusting, lutefisk or haggis, when a small old man charged out between two campers. His face was bright red and glistening with sweat. He was in such a hurry he didn’t see them in time to veer off but instead plowed into Dev, bounced off his far bigger frame, and landed on his bum.

  “Watch out, ye big oaf! As if I don’t have enough trouble without some great hulkin’—” He looked up. His little eyes grew as round as marbles. His gaze darted from Dev to Toni, and his mouth pleated into a sickly smile.

  “Dev! Why, lad, what’re you doin’ here?” he asked.

  “You old reprobate, try that innocent crap on me, will you? Ms. Olson has a contract for the sale of Blackie that bears your signature. What do you have to say to that?”

  “She bought the dog under false pretenses!” McGill declared hotly, glaring at Toni.

  She crossed her arms over his chest. “I did not,” she said. “I contacted you and told you exactly who I was and what I would pay for the dog, and you”—she pointed down at the squirming manager—“jumped at the offer.”

  “McGill?” Dev prodded.

  McGill gave up any pretense at innocence, looking appealingly at Dev. “I did it for you, Dev. You said as how you wanted the kennel turned into a proper business, but you treated all the dogs like they were yer pets—”

  “They are my pets. Especially Blackie.”

  “I know. But this spring I was going through the bills—”

  “That must have been a first,” Dev mutttered. McGill ignored him.

  “I was going through the bills and I saw the papers, the foreclosure papers,” he said dramatically, shooting a condemning glare at Toni.

  Foreclosure? Toni thought on a wave of guilt. They didn’t take private residences in foreclosures in the States. Did they still do things like that over here? Would Dev lose his castle if he didn’t have enough money to pay—

  “So what?” Dev exclaimed. “I filed for an extension. It hasn’t been the first time it’s happened in my family, and it won’t be the last. We’re extremely well-versed in bankruptcy laws, we Montgomerys. How do you think we’ve managed to stay afloat so long?”

  “Afloat, aye,” said McGill. “But I knew you were different, Dev. You wouldn’t be content to eke by. You wanted to rebuild yer family’s past glory—”

  “I wanted a house with running hot and cold!” Dev declared in exasperation. “I couldn’t give a bloody damn about my family’s past glory.”

  McGill gave the requisite gasp at this bit of sacrilege, but his indignation was short-lived. Dev grimaced and reached down. “Here. Give me your hand. You haven’t a clue the harm you’ve done.” Most especially to his heart. “Ms. Olson can’t afford to be tramping about after you. She’s got a plane she has to catch, and”—he glanced down at his wristwatch. His mouth flattened into a taut, angry line—“about fourteen hours to do it in.”

  “Ach!” McGill groaned as he put his hand in Dev’s and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

  “’Ach,’ indeed.” Dev said grimly. “Now, where’s Blackie? Ms. Olson will have to take a bus to Glasgow if she’s to make the night train to London, so she has precious little time.”

  McGill put his hand to his heart, shaking his head.

  “No more of your acting, McGill,” Dev cautioned him.

  McGill sniffed and took a rattling breath. Toni watched suspiciously. “Ah, Dev. Ye’d not take him now, would ye? He only has two more tests to run, and he’ll win another championship. I was just going to have a word with Taggart about the call-back.”

  “He’s not mine to run, McGill. And not yours, either.”

  McGill’s skin tone looked off to Toni. A puce color underscored the ruddy wind-burned cheeks.

  “I know,” he said. “I see that now. But surely Miss Olson would want her dog to have another win to his name.” His breathing was shallow, and his beseeching eyes looked rheumy. “Wouldn’t ye, lassie?”

  She wavered. Yes, she would like Blackie to have another title to add to his credentials. But even more, she wanted to spend whatever time she had left with Dev. She couldn’t think of anything better than watching a sanctioned sheepherding trial with the man she loved.

  “Will it take long?” she asked and won a warm look of gratitude from Dev.

  “No!” McGill assured her. “An hour or so at the most, and I’ll drive you to Glasgow meself.”

  “No,” said Dev, suddenly somber. “I will.”

  She felt a shiver in response to the promise in his gaze. “All right. But I have to leave in no more than ninety minutes. If I miss that flight, I don’t know how I’ll get home.”

  “I promise, Miss Olson. You’ll not regret it. Wait’ll you see Blackie run. He’s a competitor, in’t he, Dev? Loves the crowd, he does, and Dev always did know how to work that to his advantage.”

  “Dev?”

  The old man had shooed them forward and was trotting after them, panting harshly as he went. “Aye. Dev. Didn’t he tell you? He ran Blackie in every competition he won.”

  Startled, Toni stared at Dev. His expression hadn’t altered, he showed no regret or remorse, but there was a hint of bittersweet in his voice when he said, “He’s a good dog.” And that was all.

  McGill led the way to a tent where a plump and hirsute young man in an Edinburgh sweatshirt and flannels was checking off names on a clipboard. He looked up at their approach. “I thought you were going to miss your place, McGill. Hey, Dev.”

  “Taggart,” Dev greeted him.

  McGill drew to a halt and d
oubled over, resting his hands on his thighs, panting. “I… I can’t handle the dog, Taggart. I come to tell ye.”

  “What?” All three of them turned to McGill, their faces reflecting their confusion and concern.

  “It’s me heart I took a nitrate, but I… I don’t dare put more of a strain on it The pressure of the trial would be too much fer me, I fear. But Dev is here now; he’ll run Blackie.”

  “What?” Dev asked. “I can’t.”

  “Of course you can.” Even in his present extremity, McGill’s face managed a fierce expression of disgust. “You only done it about a hundred times before!”

  “But I’m not even entered.”

  “It don’t matter who runs the dog, as long as he’s entered, and Blackie is, in’t he Taggart?”

  A look of amusement dawning on his pleasant face, Taggart nodded. “Apparently. I could have sworn the application we received said Nolly’s Blue, but McGill has set that matter right.”

  The old pirate, Dev thought, regarding his manager with affection and exasperation.

  “Do it, Dev. Please,” Toni said.

  Dev turned. Toni’s face was aglow with something akin to the Mel-worship he’d seen on her face when he’d first met her… when? Only four days ago? She touched his arm, looking up into his eyes, and right then and there he knew he would have gone and fought the battle of Culloden all over again just to keep her looking at him like that. Preferably forever.

  “It would be… I would always be able to…” She couldn’t seem to find the words, but her grip on his wrist tightened. “I’d love to watch you win this trial.”

  He didn’t stand a chance. And caught between his conveniently dying manager and the look of expectation in Toni’s blue eyes, he didn’t even try.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s get Blackie.”

  The second test was a double lift—two groups of sheep in the same field. The dog would be sent for one group, bring the flock halfway back to the handler, and then leave them to go collect the second group of sheep, which he would herd back to join the first and then drive the entire flock to the handler.

  For the first time Toni saw Blackie. For the second time in as many days she fell in love. Her dog was fabulous.

  The other dogs performed well, making the competition fierce, but as soon as Blackie began working, it was clear he outstripped the rest of the field. Blackie and Dev worked as a team. The dog watched Dev with complete faith, took directions without hesitation, always working in tandem with Dev, never second-guessing him yet independent enough to catch any misstep a sheep made and bring it summarily back to conformity.

  It was a breathtaking demonstration of what man and dog working together could accomplish. Twice the gallery burst into spontaneous applause, but not once did Blackie show a bit of distraction. His blue gaze was fixed on Dev, awaiting the next command, the next challenge, the next opportunity to show what hundreds of years of breeding could achieve. He was magnificent. They were magnificent.

  There could be no mistaking the pleasure Dev took in handling Blackie. But even more than confidence, his expression clearly revealed his affection and pride in the Border collie.

  A man like that, goofy over his dog.

  Toni’s heart melted, dissolved, puddled up, and drained away. There was no way she could take this dog away from him. He’d not once tried to get out of the deal his manager had made—well, okay, once at the very beginning. But as soon as he’d understood her position, he’d never pressed her or tried to get her to give up her claim. He’d been honorable to the end.

  How could she not be in love with him?

  “He’s wonderful,” she whispered, and McGill, seated in a folding chair beside her, nodded proudly.

  “I told ye, lassie. Ye could live three lifetimes and never see his like agin.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on Dev. She looked down at the old Scot. His color was better, but he was still in discomfort.

  “Tell me, Mr. McGill,” she said, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

  He nodded at once. “Aye. I do.”

  “Really?” she asked. “You surprise me. I’d have taken you for a pragmatist like myself.”

  He chuckled, his gaze still tracking the action on the field. “There’s nothing practical in being thick-headed, lass. If ye see sumthin’ you know in your heart is the best of its kind ye’U ever find, only a fool would walk away from it.”

  Her heartbreak kicked into a faster gear. “But what if… what if this ‘best thing’ doesn’t feel the same way?” she asked, unable to keep the quaver from her voice, stupidly hanging on his answer.

  McGill tore his gaze away from the test field. “He might never be yores the way he’s Dev’s, I’ll no say he will. But treat him fair and challenge his talents, and he’ll be content.”

  Dear God, he thought she was talking about Blackie! She felt the heat race up her cheek and turned away, so that he could not read her embarrassment. At least she could give one thing to Dev that would assure he’d remember her.

  She pulled the contract out of her pocket and ripped it in two. McGill whistled softly, his eyes round. “Ye’ll let Blackie stay with Dev?”

  “He belongs to Dev, anyone can see that.”

  McGill shook his head, staring at her in bemusement. “Yer a marvelous lass,” he said wonderingly, “for an American.”

  She couldn’t help a broken chuckle. “We try. Just don’t sell the man’s dog out from under his nose again. Your next American might not be such a… a bampot”

  “Not I!” McGill swore solemnly as Toni turned. “Where are tha going, lass? Ye best have a care, or ye’ll miss the final test, and Blackie’s slated to be first dog out.”

  She smiled wryly. “I wish I could stay. But there’s a bus leaving for the ferry in fifteen minutes, and I need to be on it to catch the bus to Glasgow.”

  McGill cocked his head.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t make you drive me. You stay and watch Blackie win. Just do me a favor, will you, McGill. Tell Dev—” she stopped, ambushed by sudden tears. She closed her eyes, willing them away, biting hard on her lip. She took a deep, steadying breath and opened them. “Tell Dev… I said good-bye.”

  Dev was waiting to be called near the pen at the top of the hill. Far away, at the opposite end of the field, a new flock of sheep milled uncertainly at the gate. Blackie had already spotted them. He crouched at Dev’s feet, his wiry body vibrating with tension, licking his lips nervously as he waited.

  One more test and, barring some unseen disaster, Blackie would win his last sanctioned trial in Great Britain. He hoped Toni would run Blackie in an occasional trial in the States. The dog loved it, and Toni would, too. He didn’t have a doubt about it. He didn’t have a doubt about her, come to that.

  He looked around for her, the desire to preen—just a dram—for her irresistible. Instead of Toni, he saw McGill. The old man’s face was creased with concentration, and his step was hesitant. If he had some bit of advice, some mistake he’d seen the other handlers make in reading the terrain, Dev hoped he had the good sense to clue him in on it. Quickly. The sheep were almost in, and they’d be calling him to enter the field.

  “I have to go in soon, McGill,” Dev called, “so if you have some wisdom to impart, make it quick.”

  The old man looked up at him. “She’s going.”

  He knew at once who McGill meant. The world dropped out from under him; his heart beat in a crazed, thickened rhythm. He’d known this was taking too long, but somewhere in the back of his mind he’d hoped she’d become so involved in the trial she’d forget about the time, miss her train, and be forced to stay with him. But it hadn’t worked out that way.

  “Now, then, don’t look so peculiar, Dev,” McGill said. “Aye, I know you liked her, and it’s too bad she lives across the sodding ocean, but here’s a bit of somethin’ that’ll make you happy.” The manager leaned closer. “She
tore up the contract.”

  Dev stared at him mutely.

  “Do you not hear me, Dev?” McGill insisted. “She’s left you Blackie. Isna that wonderful?”

  “Grand.”

  “Well,” the manager said peevishly, “ye have a nice way of showin’ yer elation.”

  It was too much. Dev stood stiffly, as if he feared releasing the tension in his body. “How am I to be elated, McGill? I’d give a hundred Blackies if she’d stay.” His eyes were stricken, his voice hollow.

  McGill drew back. “So that’s the way of it?” he asked quietly.

  “Aye. I love her.”

  “Then why don’t you tell her, ye great grand fool?” the old man erupted, taking off his cloth hat and swatting Dev across the chest.

  “She’d think I was daft!” Dev defended himself. “I only met her three days ago. If I went and declared my undying love she’d probably have me up on stalking charges, and I wouldn’t blame her.”

  “Not if she felt the same way,” McGill returned loudly.

  Dev stilled. “What?”

  “Mr. Devlin Montgomery to the line.” A voice called over the loudspeaker system. Automatically McGill lifted the rope and shoved Dev under. Dev, still absorbing what McGill had said, allowed himself to be pushed, and Blackie slunk in behind him in a low, swift rush.

  “How do you know?” Dev demanded.

  “The last thing she asked me before she tore up the contract was if I believed in love at first sight.”

  “She did?” Dev straightened, swinging about, his eyes scouring the gallery. “Where is she? When did she go?”

  McGill threw up his hands in distress. “About ten minutes ago. She was heading for the buses.…There she is!” With a cry of triumph he pointed down past the far end of the field. Over two hundred yards away, Dev could see a tall, leggy blonde heading for a thick flange of exhaust-spewing buses.

  There was no way he was going to be able to get to her before she made it to them. And once she disappeared into that mess, he’d lose her for good. She was too far away to call, and…