Hot for the Scot

by Janice Maynard

  Now, everything became clear. Angus’s grace and strength. The ease with which he had plucked me from the loch. The power in his arms when he carried me to the cottage. The man was a world-class athlete.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t heard of him. I don’t really follow sports.” More likely, I could be found watching something on PBS when everyone else was glued to a championship game. I did occasionally see the Atlanta Braves play when they were in town, but that was more for the hot dogs and the spectacle of the crowd than any particular love of baseball.

  I sensed that I had blotted my copybook with Annis. I’d had the apparent great good fortune to run into the biggest celebrity of Drumnadrochit, and I hadn’t even recognized him.

  “But why is he living in a tiny crofter’s cottage?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t live there,” Annis said, shaking her head as if I were indeed daft. “The cottage is historic. He’s preserved it on his property.”

  “I see.” But I didn’t, not really. The man had made me soup.

  My hostess glanced up at a clock on the wall. “I’d best be getting a chicken in the pot. You’re welcome to eat with me tonight, lass. I doubt ye’ll be wanting to go out after the day you’ve had.”

  “That would be very nice,” I said. “What can I do to help you?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “The day I can’t throw together a simple supper they should put me away in a home. Sit there. Get yer feet back under you. I’ll tend to our meal.”

  Left to my own thoughts, I came very close to breaking my vow to Willow and McKenzie. More than anything in the world, I wanted to Google Angus Munro and see what I could learn about the man. Why was he skulking about in a crofter’s cottage? Where did he really live?

  No wonder he had looked at me strangely when he gave me his name. He’d expected me to recognize him.

  Fortunately, Annis didn’t have Wi-Fi. But there were nearby businesses that did. All I had to do was dress and head out to find a spot to connect.

  Chapter 8

  Unfortunately, I fell asleep again before I could further my plot to investigate the wildly handsome and wickedly sexy Angus Munro. By the time Annis roused me to come to the table, an hour had passed. I changed clothes rapidly and brushed my hair, securing it in a ponytail. Then I washed my face and applied a little lip gloss. Now, when I chanced a look in the mirror, I recognized the woman staring back at me.

  My fair skin and dark red hair actually made me resemble a native. But as soon as I opened my mouth, my accent gave me away. It’s possible I possessed Highland blood in my veins from centuries ago, and I might even feel as if I belonged here. But I would never have the same wonderful speech patterns, unless of course I stayed far longer than a month.

  Over our simple meal, Annis continued to sing Angus’s praises. Knowing who he really was should have dampened my fascination. All during high school and college, I’d never had any interest in the athletic type. I was more into scholars and studious boys who were headed for post-graduate work.

  From what Annis told me, Angus had begun to play professional soccer when he was only seventeen. Apparently, he never went to college. Why would he? The man probably made more money before he was twenty-five than I had made in several years. Private schools don’t pay very well, in general, but I decided long ago that having a reduced class size and fewer administrative headaches was worth the smaller salary.

  Annis served up store-bought biscuits with a dollop of cream and fresh tea. With one ear, I listened to her chatter. Internally, I focused on my growing pique that Angus had intentionally misled me. He’d let me think he was a simple laborer. Why hadn’t he volunteered who he was?

  According to the social etiquette my mother had taught me as a girl/woman of the South, I owed Angus a thank-you for rescuing and feeding me. Would a traditional note written with pen and paper suffice? Or did I need to do something more?

  I was angry. Angry at myself for being susceptible to his blatant masculinity and angry with him for pretending to be something he was not. Maybe he’d had issues with women pursuing him. Perhaps he’d wanted to avoid the possibility that I might latch onto him and misread his kindness for an invitation.

  Ha! I wallowed in my righteous indignation.

  At last, I helped Annis clear the table. Though I had tried to guess her age, it could be anywhere from seventy to ninety. She was thin and wiry, but I suspected she was stronger than she looked.

  “I think I’ll go for a walk,” I said impulsively. My nap had revived me. I knew that Annis liked to prepare for bed early and watch television until she was ready to sleep. She’d been gracious enough to share her recliner, but I didn’t want to upset her routine any more than necessary.

  The streets were practically deserted when I ventured out. The little town rolled up the sidewalks about dinnertime. Now that the sun was low in the sky, I felt a slight chill in the air. Back home everything would be sweltering. Yet here in the Highlands, summer was a welcome friend.

  I wandered the streets undisturbed, waving now and again at a shopkeeper sweeping the walk or a resident out watering a small flower garden. Everything was on a smaller scale than I was accustomed to. Atlanta was big and bold and brash…always something under construction…a city continually changing and growing.

  Here in the Scottish Highlands, I felt much closer to the past. Daily life offered a sense of peace and tranquility, along with the conviction that the natural world was far more connected to its human inhabitants than anything I had experienced back in the States.

  I did miss a few things. For one, despite my enthusiastic embrace of the idea to go off the grid for a month, I felt bereft without my electronic lifelines. I had no clue what my parents were up to, no idea if my teacher friends were preparing for a new academic year or maybe had squeezed in a last vacation.

  I couldn’t run to the mall for a new pair of shoes or catch the latest summer blockbuster on the 3D movie screen at my local cinema. No Starbucks. No big-box stores to grab essentials. All in all, I was totally out of my element. In truth, I loved it.

  I was beginning to see the value in vacationing alone. Not that I would want to do it always. Willow and McKenzie were both entertaining travel companions. They made me laugh, and their friendship was very important to me. Without them, though, I felt more of my true self coming out to play.

  Quiet was something I embraced. Having the luxury of spending time with my own thoughts, I found my brain growing less muddled. Though I didn’t know what each new day would bring, I welcomed the variety and the anticipation.

  As I headed back to Annis’s house, the light of day was almost gone. Melancholy settled over me, though the feeling was as much a surrender to the moment as it was sadness. I was alone in this place, free to go anywhere and to do anything I liked. With that freedom, however, came the realization that I wanted to make something special of my life.

  Teaching children was a noble task. It was not vanity to say I did it well. I was kind and patient and conscientious with my students. But what if I was destined for more? What if other paths beckoned? I was not half-bad as a painter. Perhaps before the month was out, I could do a watercolor for Annis. And maybe even a few smaller ones to take to friends and family back home.

  Painting was a hobby, though. I wasn’t good enough to stand out in that realm.

  I had a decent singing voice. But again, only average.

  I was still young enough to rewrite the rest of my life’s story, but the problem was, I didn’t know where I wanted to plot to take me. I resolved to wake up each remaining day in my vacation and search for excitement and fulfillment. I would challenge myself and do things that stimulated me even if they were also a bit scary.

  My high-minded resolve lasted from that moment all the way to the front stoop of my landlady’s house, where I found a large man sitting patiently in the gloom.

  “Angus,” I said, startled. “What are you doin
g here?”

  He patted the step beside me. “Annis wouldn’t let me in. She’s already in her nightdress, and she said you weren’t home anyway.”

  I remained standing. “Why did you come?”

  He shrugged, a masculine movement that translated in any language. “Wanted to make sure you were okay…that you didn’t have any lasting harm from your unfortunate experience.”

  “No,” I said slowly. “I’m fine. But thanks for checking on me.”

  He patted the step again. “Sit down, Hayley. I won’t bite.”

  Was that another of glimmer of humor? It was difficult to tell now that it was nearly dark. Annis had a light beside her door, but the bulb was burned out. Reluctantly, I sat beside my visitor. The step was narrow. Our hips and thighs inevitably touched.

  “I need to apologize to you,” I said, my voice stiff. I couldn’t help it. I was mortified and confused and I had no clue why Angus was really here.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know you were famous.”

  Chapter 9

  Angus said a word in Gaelic that I didn’t understand. But by the tone of it, I was pretty sure it would have cost him a quarter in the swear jar if my mother had been around. He ran a hand through his hair and huffed, his disgruntlement impossible to miss.

  “I’m no’ famous,” he growled. “No reason for you to know me.”

  “That’s not exactly true. Annis told me all about it.”

  “Annis is a nosy, gossipy, old—”

  I reached out and put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t,” I hissed. “She’ll hear you.” I had a healthy fear of my landlady. She might seem harmless, but then again, this was the land of witches and Beltane and peculiar standing stones, so I wasn’t taking any chances.

  When I felt his teeth rake lightly over my fingers, I snatched my hand away. “I have to go in,” I croaked. “My curfew is ten.”

  He turned his head to look at me, surprise in every line of his body. “Ye’re a grown woman. She’s taking your money. No reason you should have to jump to her bidding.”

  “That’s what you think. If I cross her, I might end up on the streets. A month is a long time. I can’t afford to stay anywhere else.”

  “Ye’re here for a whole month?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “And you came alone?”

  “I traveled with two friends. McKenzie went to Skye, and Willow is somewhere outside of Inverness.”

  “Why?”

  It was a fair question, and one we had asked ourselves many times. I knew the answer deep in my heart, but I wasn’t at all sure I could articulate it. “Well…” I paused, not wanting him to poke fun at something that seemed vitally important to me. “When you travel with people you know,” I said slowly, “you have a safety net. Which is both good and bad. My friends and I decided we wanted to immerse ourselves in places on the map that spoke to us.”

  “You have a talking map?” He chuckled to let me know he was joking. But it was kind laughter, and I didn’t feel judged…at least not so far.

  “You know what I mean. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, because you live here, but to me, the Scottish Highlands are a magical place. It’s almost as if the hills and valleys are singing a song that only those of us who pay attention can hear.”

  He gave me a sideways grin. “Are you going to start spinning around like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music?”

  “That was Austria,” I said, unperturbed by his gentle teasing. “And no. I can’t even sing in the shower.”

  In the wake of my impassioned explanation about why I had come to Scotland, the silence was deep but not awkward. I sensed he was processing my explanation.

  He shifted, his leg bumping mine. “You’re an interesting woman, Hayley from Atlanta.”

  No man had ever called me interesting. Capable, maybe. And sensible. On a good day, even dependable. But interesting? Never.

  I considered it an auspicious compliment, coming on the heels of my resolve to carpe diem and grab life by the horns. “You can drop the Atlanta part,” I teased. “My friends just call me Hayley.”

  “And are we friends?”

  Ah, there it was. He had cast a lure into the water, a bright, shiny, tempting flash of color and movement. Impossible for a little fish like me to resist. But I should at least put up a token protest.

  “I only met you today. Even with Annis’s testimonial, I’d have to know more about you before I consider you a friend.”

  “Ye’re a sharp woman. And a good judge of character. If I were you, I’d send me packing.”

  I laughed, my melancholy completely erased by the novel experience of flirting with an appealing man on a pleasant summer evening. “I was going to bake you a pie,” I said abruptly. “To say thank you.”

  “I like pie.” The words were solemn. But if there had been enough light for me to see his face properly, I was convinced I would see a twinkle in his eyes, the twinkle I was coming to recognize.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Thirty-four.”

  “Two years older than me. How long have you played professional soccer?”

  “Half my life.” This time the words were flat. And flavored with something that was not entirely positive. He went on without prompting. “I retired a year ago.”

  “Does that mean you’re past your prime?”

  He vibrated with something that was either fury or laughter. I was hoping for the latter.

  When he didn’t answer, I patted his knee. “None of my business,” I said. I stood up and brushed my hands down my denim-clad legs, hoping to remove any spiders or other bugs I didn’t want following me to my bedroom. “Goodnight, Angus.”

  Before I could sidle past him and enter the house, he grabbed one of my wrists. His hand was big and warm.

  “Have you been to the castle yet?” he asked.

  “Which one?” I said tartly. “This place is crawling with them.” I knew the one to which he referred, but I didn’t want to appear too easy. My heartbeat accelerated.

  “Urquhart. It’s in walking distance. Tomorrow is supposed to be a bonny day. Would you like a tour guide? I’ll even bring lunch.”

  Clearly there was a dearth of available female company in Drumnadrochit. Why else would a world-famous athlete be scrambling for a date? Whenever something seemed to be too good to be true, it usually was. I found myself suspicious of the invitation. “Why?”

  My question seemed to flummox him. “Why, what?” he asked, his brows drawn together.

  “Why are you inviting me on a date when we’ve just met? Don’t you famous people run around together with full social calendars?”

  He stood up as well, his expression obscured by shadows. “You’ve a chip on your shoulder, Hayley. And it’s not very becoming. Haven’t you ever heard of physical attraction and spontaneity? You’re here. I’m here. A man and a woman. Why not?”

  I could argue with myself. But I had neither the will nor the inclination to argue with both of us.

  I gave in obliquely. “I’ll expect you to expound on the history and all the gory details.”

  Still, he held my wrist. Unless I was imagining it, his fingertips stroked over my pulse.

  “Fair warned,” he said.

  “But one addendum…” My request seemed reasonable. “I was planning to go by boat…the one up the highway near the Clansman Hotel. I’m told I’ll get the best views and photographs from the water.”

  Finally he stood as well, towering over me, at least half a foot difference in our height. “Very well. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  There it was again. “You’re a mite on the bossy side.”

  “Is nine not good for you?”

  Actually, it was perfect. But I didn’t want him to get the idea he could direct every minute of our interaction. “Nine is fine,” I said calmly, trying not to notice that he st
ill held my wrist.

  “Dress warmly,” he cautioned. “Out on the water, you’ll be surprised how cold it is.”

  “I will.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I’m looking forward to our day together, Hayley.”

  “Me, too.” I hesitated. Part of me knew I should go inside, but the Hayley who had declared her personal independence day demanded to be heard. “How many tourists have you rescued in the past year?”

  “Only you.” He lifted me by the waist and set me on the step so that we were more of a match, height wise.

  “And your tour guide services?”

  He curled a hand into my ponytail, tugging gently. “I’ve never offered them before. You’re my first.”

  I was not naïve. A man with Angus’s experience and sexual charisma surely had left a string of broken hearts from continent to continent. But now he was home. And I was in his backyard.

  “Good,” I said firmly. “A woman likes to feel special. Goodnight, Angus. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter 10

  I couldn’t sleep. My two brief naps in Annis’s recliner had upended my body’s natural clock, sending it haywire. Just as I was finally getting used to the time change, suddenly I was back at square one.

  The room seemed hot, so I cast off my T-shirt. Wearing only my undies, I crawled back under the simple cotton sheet. Each evening I had been here, I had powered on my phone at exactly nine o’clock to check for messages. So far, all was well. But I suddenly realized that I had been out walking at nine tonight.

  Again, I got out of bed. When I picked up my phone and turned it on, it seemed to pulse with life. The urge to call McKenzie and Willow and tell them about Angus was almost irresistible. I couldn’t do it though. Even if I caved, my friends were strong. No one would answer. We had agreed to send a text with the numerals 9-1-1 if we needed help.

  Other than that, the phone was off-limits.