Not Quite a Scot

by Janice Maynard

  “And you?”

  “Oh, you know,” I said with a convincing laugh. “A busy social calendar. Fall in Atlanta is a wonderful time of year.”

  “You love it there, don’t you…?”

  “I do. You’d think New York would be a huge draw, and it is. I do enjoy heading north several times a year for Broadway shows and shopping. In the end, though, Atlanta feels like home.”

  The subject ground to a stilted halt. I imagine both of us were thinking of all those huge photographs in Finley’s workshop. Even if he made peace with his father and started going to North Carolina occasionally for visits, he’d built a reputation here in Portree. And a life. I couldn’t see him ever going back for good. It wasn’t as if he had any interest in running the furniture business when his father was gone. I wondered what would happen to the family company since Bella clearly had carved her own path in the world.

  I leaned my head against Finley’s shoulder and stared out at the water. If I stayed another month or two, I could make it to all the Outer Hebrides. To tick those islands off the list required plenty of days and planning and adjusting for weather delays. Maybe I could return in the spring.

  Somehow, I was going to find the strength to say goodbye without a messy, emotional scene. It wasn’t Finley’s fault I’d fallen in love. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me. That would be the final blow.

  When the time came, I would thank him for his hospitality and ride off into the stunning Scottish sunset, metaphorically speaking.

  I should probably go sooner than later, but cheating myself out of the last days I had left was unthinkable. Either way, I was going to grieve.

  Either way, I went home without Finley.

  Chapter 28

  I was yawning when we climbed into bed. Finley was equally subdued. He spooned my back and buried his nose in my hair. “I’m sorry I flipped out today,” he muttered. “If I go see him tomorrow. Will you come with me?”

  “Yes. If that’s what you want.” I was surprised he didn’t feel the need for privacy. Maybe the thought of facing his father and Vanessa at the same time was too much.

  For a long time, we laid there in silence. I thought he had fallen asleep, though I couldn’t be sure. I wanted to memorize this moment…crystallize it in some corner of my brain, so I could pull it out on the bad, lonely days and remember what it felt like to be truly happy.

  In years to come, I would find another man to love. Finley had restored my faith in that possibility, at least. The idea of children and a home littered with evidence of family life gave my heart a squeeze.

  Despite wanting Finley to be the man in the picture, I was under no illusions.

  In the midst of my turmoil, I came to a few realizations of my own. I needed and wanted more of a relationship with my parents than I’d had with them thus far. It would require some work on my part. I couldn’t expect them to be more than they were. Still, they were blood. One day they would likely be grandparents. In the end, that counted for more than I had ever understood in my selfish youth.

  Sighing, I wrestled my pillow into submission and rested my cheek on my hand. Despite the heavy things that had transpired today, I was in the mood for more than snoozing.

  “Finley,” I whispered, “are you awake?”

  Long silence. “Who wants to know?”

  His answering whisper made me smile. I wiggled around in his embrace until our noses were practically touching. “I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day,” I said softly. “If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could have sex with me? I know it’s an imposition. I can’t sleep, and you’re better than a tranquilizer.”

  He huffed. “You’re so demanding, Duchess. Don’t think I can’t hear when I’ve been insulted. Just for that, I ought to keep you awake all night.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  He slid his hands inside my cotton undies and cupped my butt. “The things I do for you,” he groaned.

  I snuggled closer, feeling his erection nudge my belly. The man might have had a rotten day, but he wasn’t dead. I wanted to tell him I loved him. It didn’t seem fair to burden him with that. Not now. Maybe not ever. I had let him know where I was headed emotionally. It was up to him to decide what he wanted.

  This coming together was different. The same heat was there, though the fire was banked. He wrapped me in tenderness. Every touch of his hands told me he cared about me. Caring and loving were two different animals. I needed to accept what he could give and not beg for more.

  I kissed his throat and cupped his sex, inhaling his scent. He was warm and real and so very dear to me already. The few relationships I’d had in the past were pale imitations of this. Scotland had given me my own special man, even if only for a brief moment in time.

  “Tell me, McKenzie. Tell me you want this.” The words were hoarse.

  Couldn’t he see the truth? “I want you,” I said.

  He entered me slowly, a firm, steady push. I closed my eyes as little flashes of light spangled the darkness behind my eyelids. Already, my body recognized his. We strained together, him claiming me…me claiming him.

  “Ah, God, Duchess.” I thought I heard despair in his voice. It wounded me. I didn’t want to be another regret in his life. Shoving away the dark thought, I canted my hips and forced him deeper.

  We fought each other…ravenous…desperate. I came so hard my head hit the top of the bed. Finley started to laugh. Then he lost control and pistoned his hips. A pained groan ripped from his chest when he found the peace he’d been looking for.

  I stroked his back as he fell into the deep, drugged sleep of complete emotional exhaustion. Today had been hard. Tomorrow would be worse.

  I lay awake in the dark knowing my decision about the future had changed. I would stay long enough to see Finley through this crisis. Then I would head back to Inverness. Earlier than planned. I’d foolishly thought I could enjoy the time we had left. That was a lie. In the last few minutes, my brain had finally understood what my gut already knew.

  Finley was breaking my heart one beat at a time. To stay until the bitter end would be unbearable.

  * * * *

  In the morning, he was gone…at least from my bed. But this time, there was a note, short and sweet:

  I’m going to see him at ten. Meet you in the kitchen. Finley

  I waited for the rush of excitement. This was a positive step. Unfortunately, the only emotion I felt at the moment was sadness.

  Thinking of Vanessa galvanized me into action. I hadn’t worn my white pantsuit since those first three days of the trip. I’d been careful to hang it up, and it was wrinkle free, thank goodness. All I had to do was spot clean a couple of little places on the pants. I chose a lavender silk shell to go underneath and topped it with a white silk Hermes scarf patterned with deep purple irises.

  Bringing out the big guns, I clipped platinum hoops in my ears and fastened a matching bangle at my wrist. High heels added the finishing touch. I’d spent so many days lately in casual clothes the shoes felt foreign.

  If I were going to be support for Finley, I was going to look the part.

  * * * *

  None of the hotels in Portree were fancy. Also, none of them were far away. Finley took one look at me, raised an appreciative eyebrow, and picked up the keys to the Jeep. “Clearly we’re not walking anywhere with you in those shoes.”

  I smiled at him and nodded, a little punchy at the effect of seeing him dressed so nicely in khaki slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a tweed blazer. His gaze was clearer this morning. He carried an air of gravity.

  The trip took all of ten minutes. We found a parking spot on the street and headed for the hotel lobby. After speaking with the clerk, Finley picked up the house phone and dialed the room.

  It must have been Vanessa who answered, judging from what Finley said on his end. When he hung up, he bobbled the receiver of the old-fashioned landline and nearly dropped it. “I g
uess we’ll head upstairs.”

  I gripped his hand in mine, trying to communicate my concern.

  The hotel had a tiny elevator. It was currently in use by a family of four trying to get all of their belongings upstairs in one trip.

  “I’ll be fine taking the stairs,” I said.

  We climbed three floors up and stopped in the hallway. Finley’s hand was like ice. I leaned into him. “Pretend he’s not your dad and that we’re just visiting an acquaintance.”

  His half smile reassured me. “Is that how you get through your bad days, Duchess?”

  I squeezed his fingers. “Whatever works.”

  Finley knocked at the appropriate door. Even though we weren’t meeting with my family, my stomach was in knots. Vanessa let us in. The two-room suite included a modest sitting area. An old man half-reclined in one chair. I felt Finley stiffen in shock.

  His father was sallow, his eye sockets sunken. I don’t know if he had been bald before. He was now. His age-spotted hand trembled when he lifted it in greeting. “Hello, son.”

  Finley exhaled. “Hello, Dad.”

  There was no place for Vanessa and me to go, not that I wanted to abandon Finley anyway. So the four of us sat in an uncomfortable tableau. Vanessa had said her piece up at Finley’s house. Now she was mute, her brown eyes worried. She kept looking at Mr. Craig as if afraid he might collapse.

  I’m not sure who was expected to break the ice. Finally, thank God, Finley’s father jumped in with both feet. “I’ve come to apologize, son.”

  “Because you’re dying.” It wasn’t a question.

  The old man’s shrug was eerily similar to Finley’s. “That’s one reason. I should have done this ten years ago before you left. But you pissed me off. And it hurt me that you didn’t want to take the reins of the company.”

  Finley leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “It had nothing to do with you in the beginning. I wasn’t cut out to be a nine-to-five businessman. I needed more. The kicker was when you sicced Vanessa here on me.” He paused and gave both of them a glare. “And when you paid her to seduce me.”

  The other two people in the room went still. It was clear that everyone except me remembered what had happened in painful detail.

  Vanessa finally found her voice. “I should have told him no.”

  “But there was the fifty grand. Hard to say no to that.” Finley’s sarcasm made me wince.

  His father didn’t answer. Vanessa, however, carried the flag. “I admired your father. He was trying to strengthen both companies. The money was an incentive, yes. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing he was asking in the beginning. All I had to do was go out on a few dates with you and coax you into seeing the benefits of sticking around.”

  “And if I had never found out about the money?”

  His ex-girlfriend blanched. “Honestly, I felt wrong about what I was doing even in the beginning, but I knew joining the companies was really important. It wasn’t like you were in love with me. You were practically still a kid.”

  “I was twenty-five.”

  “And I was twenty-nine,” Vanessa said. “I should have known better.”

  Mr. Craig spoke up. “Enough of that. The point is that I hurt you and dragged Vanessa into my mess, too. I want to tell you, Finley, that I’m damn sorry. I’ve been sorry for a long, long time. I’d like to think you could forgive me, but the important thing is that you know I love you.”

  Finley’s expression was stunned. Had he ever heard that from his father? He was literally speechless.

  No one said a word. Finally, sheer nerves made me rush into the breach. “Your son has built an amazing business here in Portree. The town appreciates his contributions and embraces him as one of their own.”

  Mr. Craig frowned. “And who might you be, young lady?”

  Hadn’t Vanessa told him about me? Maybe not. Maybe I wasn’t worth mentioning. “I’m a friend, sir. Just visiting for a couple of weeks. I came along today for moral support.”

  Finley stood up suddenly. “This is a lot to take in. I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you. Come along, McKenzie. I have work to do.”

  Before I knew it, we were back outside standing in the sunlight.

  Finley’s eyes were dazed. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t look like the same man. He must have lost fifty or sixty pounds. And she’s still with him.”

  “Maybe she was telling us the truth. Maybe she really loves him.”

  I could see on his face that was a hard pill to swallow. Having to re-haul his opinions of Vanessa and his father in one fell swoop was a lot to ask.

  We drove back to the house in silence. When we arrived, Finley excused himself to go to his workshop. Apparently, someone big and important was due next week to pick up a motorcycle, and Finley was scrambling to finish the order.

  I couldn’t decide what to do. Most of me wanted to run before I got in any deeper. Still, the thought of abandoning Finley in his time of crisis seemed cold in the extreme.

  It looked as if I’d be staying around for at least a short while. I knew it was going to cost me.

  Chapter 29

  The week following that first painful encounter at the hotel fell into a pattern of sorts. Finley worked in his shop every day until three or so. I spent the same hours playing tourist, searching out little gems I hadn’t yet explored, both in town and on the island.

  After we cleaned up, we both met in the kitchen around four thirty each afternoon. Most days we walked to the hotel. If the weather was bad, we took the Jeep. We visited with Vanessa and Mr. Craig for an hour or so, shared dinner with them in their suite, and eventually made our way back to Finley’s house.

  During those visits I learned a great deal about my host. He’d been a daredevil as a kid. Somehow that didn’t surprise me. He’d loved sports of all kinds and had broken three bones before finishing middle school.

  He and Bella had grieved deeply for their mom when she died. Mr. Craig grieved also, but apparently he’d been unable to let his children see that deep emotion, so they thought he didn’t care.

  Vanessa and I were mostly spectators. Occasionally she weighed in on subjects concerning Mr. Craig’s health crisis and what lay ahead. The specter of death sat in the room with us. Finley’s father appeared to have made peace with what was to come.

  On what turned out to be our last night with them, Finley squatted beside his father’s chair so he could look the older man in the eye. “You need to go home, Dad. Back to your doctors. I’m very glad you came. We’ll let the past stay in the past.” He paused, and I saw his throat work. “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son.”

  Vanessa cried openly now. Tears stung my eyes, as well. It was hard to watch the sick old man stroke his grown son’s hair. Finley’s eyes were closed, a look of pained emotion on his face.

  Finally, Finley stood. “I’m serious,” he said. “You need to go back to North Carolina.”

  “And will you come to see me?” Mr. Craig straightened, his gnarled hands gripping the arms of the chair.

  I think we all knew that making plans like those was an exercise in wishful thinking. I worried that Finley’s father might not even survive the trip home.

  “Yes,” Finley said simply. “Bella and I will make plans. When you get back, you need to tell her the whole truth. You owe her that.”

  * * * *

  That night Finley made love to me only once. It was intense and satisfying, but bittersweet. I sensed the confusion in his soul. There was no way for me to help him. This thing with his father was a road he had to walk on his own.

  I lay awake for several hours listening to him breathe. This man. This house. This town. This alluring Isle of Skye. They had conspired against me to steal my soul…my heart…my dreams.

  When morning came, I must have been sleeping deeply. Finley was gone… off to work, most likely. Breakfast was out of the questi
on. My stomach churned with nausea.

  Carefully, I packed my bags. My rental car had long since been returned to me. It sat outside in the shade, ready for me to load my things. When that task was done, I looked around my bedroom.

  Hayley and Willow would ask me about my romantic exploits…or if there had been any. It would hurt too much to open up about this precious time with Finley. Instead, I would be forced to talk mostly about the island itself. That wouldn’t be so bad. I had photos and memories aplenty to share with my friends.

  At last I was satisfied that I had remembered everything I needed to take with me. I’d spent some time the day before photographing Cinnamon in all her moods. I think I would miss my canine friend almost as much as her master.

  Feeling foolish and desperate, I sneaked into Finley’s bedroom and looked around for something to put in my silver snuffbox, some memento. On his dresser sat a small wooden bowl, the kind men used for loose change and ticket stubs. I picked up a button that had fallen off one of his shirts. Shoving it deep into my pocket, I scanned the room one last time and shut the door.

  I couldn’t postpone the confrontation any longer. Wearing my white pantsuit and a smile that was suspect at best, I went to Finley’s workshop. When I knocked and entered, he didn’t look up. He had grease all over his hands and was finessing something in an engine.

  “Hey, Duchess,” he said, still concentrating. “It’s hot as hell in here today. Would you mind to bring me a beer?”

  My throat tightened. “I’ll do that before I go.”

  His hands stilled. Finally, he looked up, and his eyes flashed. Clearly, I wasn’t dressed for a day of tromping around the island. “Go where?”

  I shrugged. Maybe I had learned that move from him. “It’s time for me to go home, Finley.”

  “I thought you had nine or ten more days.”

  “Yes. I’m going to spend those in Inverness. It will be fun to explore the town.” I didn’t tell him I’d already done that once. “Hayley and Willow are going to rendezvous with me a week from Saturday at a little tea shop on Academy Street. I can’t believe the days have gone by so quickly.”