“Was this Daddy Beau her father?” Rosalyn asked.
Duncan snorted. “Hell, no. Yankees had burned her home, killing her parents, and somehow Daddy Beau found her. She was every bit a prisoner as I was. She tended to my wounded shoulder and made sure I had nourishment, all the while trying to stay out of Daddy Beau’s way.”
He glanced at Isobel, noting the fear and confusion registered on her face.
“As it turned out, Kitten was as anxious to get away as I was, so together we planned our escape. Since she had no family, I thought I’d take her to the ranch, leave her with people I trusted, then decide what to do after the war was over.” Once again he looked at Isobel. “She saved my life, Izzy. But,” he added, remembering it all, “even though I had promised to take her with me, the Indian guide who led us out of the swamps pleaded with her to stay with him. She stayed. I didn’t know what would become of her. I couldn’t save her.”
He paused and dabbed gently at his nose. “I felt like a coward for not going after her; maybe we both would have been dead, I don’t know. After the war I did return to the bayou, but it’s impossible to find anyone if you’re not acquainted with the swamps. So I gave up trying, all the while wondering if she was dead and knowing that, if she was, it was my fault. I’ve never felt such guilt in my life.”
Duncan sat down beside Isobel. He wanted to take her hand but she had both of them balled into fists in her lap. No one spoke for a long time. Finally, Rosalyn asked, “So, after she and her Indian friend got you to safety, he kidnapped her?”
“Well, I suppose, but she did go willingly. As I watched them slink back into the bayous, all I could think of was the look on her face, like she knew her fate. Yet she urged me to leave her; I shouldn’t have, but I did. Now, as we spoke on the docks, she assured me Kye had planned to take her away from Daddy Beau himself. We had given him the perfect opportunity. Kitten was grateful and grew to care for him. Eventually, she had his baby. A little girl, Dannie. Or Danielle.” He let out a short laugh. “She named her after me, or the name I’d given her in the beginning.”
“Why did you do that?” Fletcher asked.
“At first I didn’t trust either of them to know who I really was, and that I was going to inherit a ranch in Texas. Daniel was the first name that popped into my head.”
“And she named her child after you, and not this other fellow?” Rosalyn’s voice was quiet and sympathetic.
“That’s right.”
Isobel studied him and slowly reached up, gently touching his nose. He tried not to wince. “What happened? And why are you so wet?”
Duncan and Fletcher exchanged guilty glances. It was Hamish who spoke.
He pushed his bulk away from the mantle and crossed his arms over his chest. “One punched the other because he thought his brother was going to be unfaithful to his wife, and the other punched his brother because he learned his wife had overheard the other brother’s assumption about the entire situation, y’see.”
It was a roundabout answer, but they understood. Rosalyn asked, “And they’re wet because…?”
Hamish shrugged his huge shoulders. “I tossed ’em both in the drink.”
Fletcher pulled at his wet shirt. “I apologize for assuming the worst of you, Duncan. But, with only the past to go on…” He left the insinuation hanging.
Duncan glanced away. “I will admit there were a few moments of temptation—after all, it’s what I would have done in a heartbeat any other time.” He gave Isobel a shameful look. “But, beauty that she was, she felt more like a sister to me. And I thought of Kerry, and what I would do if someone abused her like Kitten had been abused by Daddy Beau, and I just couldn’t.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I just couldn’t.”
Isobel was quiet, still trying to piece everything together.
“Then,” Rosalyn asked, “how did she end up here, on Hedabarr?”
Gathering his composure, Duncan answered, “She married one of the young missionaries who freed her from the tribe. The reason she and Dannie are alone at the moment is because her husband is meeting with Church officials and Reverend Fleming. Apparently he’s to be our new minister here on Hedabarr.”
“Well,” said Rosalyn. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“At least I know she’s safe,” Duncan said. “And she seems very happy.”
There was total silence in the room. Hamish, who had returned to the mantle, chewed on his pipe. Rosalyn sat beside Fletcher on the settee. Duncan wondered how Isobel would take the story, hoping she hadn’t actually thought the worst of him.
“I think it’s time for us to leave the two of them alone, don’t you? And you, dear husband,” she said, tugging on Fletcher’s arm, “need to get into some dry clothes.” She motioned to Hamish and Fletcher, and the three of them left the library, closing the door softly behind them.
Isobel waited for Duncan to speak. He turned her face toward him. His nose was a mess and had begun to swell.
He wiped away tears from her cheeks and ran his hand over her chin and down her neck. “We look a lot alike right now, all puffy and red.”
Isobel tried to smile, but her lips trembled instead.
Duncan stroked her cheek. “What you must have thought of me.”
“I expected something to happen, you know.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I was so happy, and I just knew it wouldn’t last. I didn’t know what it would be, but I didn’t think I was lucky enough to live happily ever after.”
Duncan frowned. “What makes you think you won’t live happily ever after?”
Tears leaked again. “Because you love fun and you love sex and I can’t always be there to enjoy it with you, especially when I’m big as a cow with another bairn. I—”
“You’re having my baby?”
“Aye, and when I look like a cow, where will you go?”
Duncan hugged her and tried not to laugh, but failed. “Why would I go anywhere else?”
She tried to push him away, but he held her tightly. “Oh, Duncan, of course you’ll want to find your pleasure elsewhere. Who’d want to have sex with a cow when there are fresh young lassies all about?”
Duncan’s face fell. “You think so little of me?”
She gazed at him, knowing that everything she felt for him was in her eyes. “No, it’s just that you married me to make Ian legal and I’ll always be grateful for that. And I—” She clamped her lips together as if to prevent herself from saying more.
“You, what?”
She shook her head and looked away, unable to say the words out loud. “I can’t tell you.”
He turned her toward him. “Izzy? What is it?” His forehead was creased with concern. He gently shook her shoulders. “Tell me and maybe I can help. Maybe I can do something about it.”
She actually laughed. “Aye, if you can do something about the fact that I’m in love with you, I’ll be eternally grateful.” She didn’t want to look at him, but couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, and her stomach twisted.
“Izzy, Izzy.” He pulled her up and brought her close to his chest. She noted the dampness of his clothing and the faint fishy smell.
He cupped her face. “I think I fell in love with you when you wanted the roof to collapse on my bed with me in it.”
“Not when you saw me naked in the tub?”
“I think I was already pretty far gone by then,” he admitted.
She started to cry; she couldn’t stop herself. “I canna believe that.”
He hugged her close. “You canna?” he mimicked gently then held her away from him. “Well, believe it. We are going to be a loving family, the four of us,” he said, rubbing his hand over her stomach.
“And ye won’t mind if I get as big as a cow by the time the bairn is born?”
He waved the question away. “I’ve always been known to be a rutting bull.”
“And ye don’t mind if I’m not thin and w
illowy like Rosalyn and Kerry and Lily?”
He gave her a look of disbelief. “I love your curves, Izzy. I loved them ten years ago, I loved them when I found you in the tub the day I discovered I was a father, and I will love them always.”
She stepped into his arm again, closing her eyes and inhaling all of the myriad smells he was today, finding, if she concentrated, that she could smell just him. “How can I be this lucky?”
He chuckled close to her ear. “You might change your mind, love. I’m not exactly easy to live with.”
She pulled back, surprised. “And I am?”
He laughed again. “I will love you forever.”
• • •
That evening, Kitten, Dannie, and Kitten’s husband, the Reverend Lawrence Samson, dined with the MacNeils.
Isobel watched the pretty, animated woman, completely comfortable in the company of strangers, tell them her story. She described how her friend, Kye, had taken her back to his tribe, explained that he’d been preparing this for a while and helping Duncan escape fit right into his plans.
Fletcher said, “I heard you call him Daniel, and it added to the puzzle.”
“That’s what he said his name was.” She gave Duncan a scolding look. “I guess he didn’t trust us enough to tell us who he really was. Now that I understand things, it was probably because if Daddy Beau had learned that Duncan would eventually inherit a large ranch in Texas, he would have found some way to get his hands on it.”
“So,” Isobel asked, “whatever happened to him?”
“Oh, I heard tell he was so angry that we both got away that he eventually had a stroke and keeled right over dead on top of his dog, Titan.” She shook her head. “Poor Titan; we both suffered from Daddy Beau’s abuse.”
Ian leaned toward his father. “I like the way she talks. It’s sort of like singing.”
Duncan ruffled his son’s hair.
“How did you finally get rescued?” Rosalyn asked.
Kitten shot her husband a shy, warm glance. “I guess it was a rescue, but I was treated well by the tribe. Shortly after Dannie was born, Kye got the blood fever and died.” She lifted one slender shoulder. “I had no place to go, so I just stayed with them.” She looked at her young husband again. “Until the missionaries came and with them the handsomest man I’d ever seen in my entire life. His eyes were warm and his face held no judgment when I introduced him to my daughter, Danielle. I was drawn to him immediately.”
“And now you will make your home on Hedabarr.” Fletcher raised his glass. “To the Reverend and Mrs. Samson and Danielle. Welcome.”
Glasses were raised all around, and a kind of peace settled over the families at the table.
• • •
After they were alone and curled together under the covers in their big bed, Isobel said, “I’m glad she came, Duncan. I’m happy that circumstances brought her here.”
“You don’t feel insecure?”
Isobel smiled in the dark. “No. Aye, she’s a beauty, she is, but when I saw the way she looked at her husband—the way I look at you—I was just grateful that she had been there to save you.”
“As am I,” he answered. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, ever again but you.”
He pulled her against the hammock of his body, curled his arm around her, and they slept.
Epilogue
1873
Big as the cow she had promised to be, a very pregnant Isobel carefully made her way around the kitchen table, looking at the great mounds of food she and Delilah had prepared for the celebration to formally bring the new reverend and his family into the community.
Kerry and Evan were considering going to America to manage the family ranch. Isobel recalled the relief her husband had shown when they agreed to think about it. He was seriously concerned of late, because word of what was happening there had stopped arriving.
Lily didn’t get the teaching job for the very reason Rosalyn was worried she wouldn’t. The church hired a tall, thin young man with a spare beard and lank hair. In spite of his looks he was a good teacher, and even asked Lily for help from time to time.
Fletcher had asked Stefan to stay and learn to manage the grounds, since Evan would probably be leaving sometime soon. Stefan and Lily could often be seen off together, their heads close, talking and laughing. Isobel was sure that Rosalyn was happy Lily chose to stay, but wondered if they would, indeed, become a couple. Isobel reminded her that love wasn’t always sensible. Time would tell.
Delilah was still as peppery as usual, but they all noticed that she napped more frequently than she used to. She did a lot of knitting, which she still did better and faster than anyone Isobel had ever known, and Isobel thought that maybe this time she was actually making something for the bairn. But she continued to lose weight, for she had no appetite. It broke Isobel’s heart to see Delilah’s health failing; she couldn’t imagine life without her.
The cannery was open and fully staffed with island men, all of whom were grateful they didn’t have to leave the island to make a decent living. With that and the scotch distillery, Hedabarr’s popularity was growing.
Isobel felt a kick and brought her hand to her stomach. “Aye, little one, I will have you to care for then, won’t I?”
Duncan came into the kitchen and hugged her from behind. His hand, too, went to her stomach, and he was also blessed with a good, strong kick.
Isobel leaned into him.
“Are you tired, my sweet?” he whispered into her ear. His voice and his touch still sent chills down her arms.
She shook her head. “I’m fine, but I don’t know how much longer I can carry this bairn around without the use of a wheelbarrow.” She felt him shake with laughter.
“Do you know what I think?”
“Rarely do I know what you think, my husband.”
“I think there’s more than one in there.”
The thought startled Isobel. “Nae, how could that be?”
“How, indeed,” Duncan mused. “Look at Fletcher and Rosalyn. It could happen to us, you know.”
Isobel turned in his arms and looked up into his handsome face. All those years ago, she thought she could look into his face and never tire of it. She was right. She was more in love with him now than she had been when they married. To think she could have two bairns…The thought made her almost giddy.
“And guess what?” he asked.
“What?”
“I overheard Ian talking to one of the twins. His exact words were, ‘my da said when I’m older I can have his bow and arrow.’”
“He called you his da?”
“It’s a start. Are we lucky, or what?”
“Aye,” she answered, putting her arms around his neck. “We are lucky.” And she finally believed it.
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The Scoundrel's Pleasure Page 22
