Men of Midnight Complete Collection

by Emilie Richards

  “What are you doing? The sun’s hardly had time to rise.”

  She turned to find Duncan right behind her. She put her arms around his neck for a good morning kiss, savoring the taste of his sun-warmed lips. His hair was endearingly tumbled and the shadow of a beard adorned his jaw. He had never looked sexier. “I had to get the sheep to pasture.”

  “Do you rise this early every morning?”

  “Earlier when the cows are home.”

  “And in winter?”

  She made a face. “It’s harder.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and stood with her at the fence. She didn’t know what she had expected to see this morning when they were face-to-face. Regret, perhaps. Astonishment. Distress. But she had seen none of it. Duncan simply looked like a satisfied man.

  “I’ve liked the sameness of all this,” she said, sweeping her hand in an arc. “I’ve liked the chores and the primitive conditions, working with the animals, even sometimes, the bleakness of the weather.”

  “You’ve been testing yourself.”

  She was pleased he understood. “I needed to begin at the most elemental level. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “Yes.”

  She was pleased again. “We have a saying here, to ‘dree yer ain wierd.’ Do you know it?”

  “It means to face up to whatever’s ahead of you. My father used it often.”

  “I suppose I’ve thought this croft was my way of doing just that. I thought to make a life for myself, to face up to who I was and learn to accept solitude as my lot.”

  “And now?”

  “You were right when you told me I had to spend more time with people. After I divorced Robbie I was convinced the only thing left to me was retreat. Now I’m no’ so certain.”

  “You’ve got a fan club at the hotel. They’re a hard bunch to win over, but they’ve already formed ranks around you.”

  “They’re a dear group of people.”

  “So, what will you do?”

  “Simplify a bit, I think.”

  “Sell this place and move into the hotel with me?”

  She turned to him and smiled. He had said the words lightly, but she suspected there was something more than humor behind his request. “I’m going to sell the cows and some of the sheep. Downscale instead of grow. I dinna like raising lambs for meat, so I’ll stop that first. I’ll only breed the ewes whose lambs I’ll likely want to keep. And I’ll keep all I can for shearing. Without so many lambs, my work will be easier, and I can spend more time with my plants and my dyeing and spinning.”

  “Aren’t the lambs an important source of income?”

  “I’m fortunate. I’ve no real need for the money. But I think I’ve more need for time…and freedom.”

  “Freedom?”

  “There’s a wee shop on High Street that needs a tenant. The stone house that’s part of the old mill?”

  “I know it.”

  “I’ve a mind to lease it myself and run it as a gift shop. I could sell my wool and my herbs and lease space to others to sell their handicrafts. There’s no place in Druidheachd to feature the work of local craftsmen or artists, and we have enough tourists to support one.”

  “There’s a capitalist under this beautiful hair.” He wound a long lock around his finger. “But it’s not money that’s driving you, is it?”

  “No. I need to spend more time off the mountain.”

  “You need to spend more time with me.”

  “Aye. I do.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed him and desire heated her blood. When she had come to Druidheachd she had locked away desire, along with every other emotional need except survival. Now, after one night together, Duncan seemed as important to that survival as the air she breathed.

  His arms closed around her. “What do you have in mind for the day?”

  “Do you have to go right back to the hotel?”

  “No. April’s not due back until this evening, and the hotel can run itself. I don’t care.”

  “Stay with me, then. Have a look at the way I live. Gather herbs, mend fences, perhaps even go with me to collect peats if the good weather holds.”

  “Mara, you’re just getting over a nasty fall. You shouldn’t overdo.”

  “Oh, I will no’ overdo. It’s supervising I plan. Have you ever used a toirbhsgir to cut peats yourself? It’s a nasty, sharp blade, but it gets the job done. You should have the experience, you know, if you’re going to live in the Highlands even a little while.”

  “Have you ever read Tom Sawyer?”

  “Aye, and I’ve no’ a fence in sight that needs whitewashing. Just a bothy that’ll need a good peat fire come autumn.”

  “I’ll donate a whole truckload of coal if it means I don’t have to cut or haul peat today. Besides, I’ve got another idea for keeping you warm this winter.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Have you now?”

  “Come back to the bothy, and let me teach you a new strategy.”

  She knew her eyes were dancing. She couldn’t remember ever being happier. It didn’t take second sight to envision the future only minutes away when she would be in Duncan’s arms again. “I’ve always believed in education and progress. Can I refuse?”

  “Not if I have my way.”

  “And do you always get your way, Duncan?”

  “Never as gloriously as last night. Do you suppose my luck has changed?”

  “I’d have no way of knowing that. But I do know something.”

  He lifted a brow in question.

  “My luck changed one cold night in a meadow just across the ridge, and I’ve Geordie Smith to thank for it.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “My beautiful Lady Greensleeves.”

  She pulled his face down to hers and brushed her lips across his. “Your lady, Duncan. Your lady for as long as you’re here.”

  CHAPTER 13

  There were half a dozen crows perched on the stone fence that surrounded Mara’s garden, eyeing her cornstalks with undisguised ardor. They ignored Guiser’s barking and Mara jabbing at them with her hoe and politely waited for her to depart. As soon as she left the garden and closed the gate behind her, they would take her place.

  “My old auntie could make a tattie bogle that scared away every crow for a hundred miles,” Mara told Duncan as she stopped to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Yours is smiling. Everybody knows a scarecrow is supposed to look fierce.” Duncan made a terrible face. “Like this.”

  She pressed her hand to her heart. “That would certainly do it.”

  “I could be persuaded to improve on yours.”

  She smiled. “Oh? And what would I need to do to persuade you.”

  “I could think of a thing or two.”

  Her smile widened. “Oh, could you now? And what if I reminded you that I’ve a million and one things to do today and dinna have time for your foolishness?”

  “Foolishness? I could swear that’s not what you were calling it last night.”

  Her cheeks grew pink, and not because the sun was shining on them. “You’re a scunner, Duncan Sinclair. You’ve no right to come here today and tempt me away from my work.”

  “Now I’m a temptation?”

  “You’re a trial.”

  “Put up your hoe and come with me. It’s a gorgeous afternoon and we’re going to Iain’s this evening, anyway. Spend the rest of the day with me.”

  “But I’ve two months’ work to do in one, and the first frosts will be coming soon. I can no’ spend such a braw afternoon trauchling after you when I’ve my own work to do.”

  He crooked his finger. “Come over here and let me persuade you.”

  More than two months had passed since Mara and Duncan had become lovers. The heather had bloomed; the largest part of a small tourist population had come and gone; the creature said to live in Loch Ceo hadn’t shown itself for yet another summer.

  Mara had sold her cows and the lambs she
couldn’t keep; she had spun her fleeces and dyed her yarn in hues as variegated as the gorse and bracken of the hillsides and the unpredictable blues of a Scottish summer sky. Duncan had seen his own changes. The repairs to the hotel were nearly finished and with Mara’s help and only a small outlay of cash, he had remodeled and brightened the lobby and dining room. Best of all, surrounded by love and security, April had bloomed into the child he’d been afraid he would never see. She had regular conversations with her mother now, and spoke more openly about her. He was comfortable with neither, but he had seen the improvement in April, and he was willing to do what he had to just to keep the smile in her eyes.

  He’d had no hopes for his months in Druidheachd except the most basic. He had wanted to escape from Lisa. He had wanted to refurbish and sell the hotel. He had wanted to rebuild his relationship with his daughter.

  Instead, he’d gotten so much more.

  “If I come over there, I’ll no’ be going back, will I?” Mara asked.

  “That’s a distinct possibility.”

  “You’ll steal me away, like a fairy king. And when you return me, I’ll be old and withered and good for nowt.”

  “Now, that part I doubt very much.”

  She came within kissing distance. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “April’s at a birthday party until six, then Sally’s agreed to watch her at the hotel until Frances can take her home. I’ve got my jacket and tie and a clean shirt in my car.”

  “And?”

  “And I thought you might like to spend some time together. Your choice.”

  She leaned over the fence and planted a kiss on his lips. “My choice? Really?”

  “Anything you want to do.”

  “You’d pull weeds if I asked?”

  “Along with perfectly healthy plants, I imagine.”

  She put a finger to her nose and wrinkled her forehead. “You’d dip sheep or help me breed the black face ewes to Roger’s prize tup?”

  “If you think I could stand the excitement.”

  “I know just the thing.”

  “If it’s along those same lines, you need some help in the imagination area.”

  “I have some seeds to gather before the frosts come. You could help.”

  “Where?”

  “No’ here. I’ll show you.” She kissed him again, then followed the fence to the gate and let herself out. The crows cawed in anticipation. “About that tattie bogle,” she said.

  “I’ll put the plans on the drawing board.”

  He escorted her to the door, and then he began to wander. When he visited Mara he never asked her permission to do chores around the croft. He knew if he asked she would say no, so instead he worked on the sly. It had become a game to find places where his labor wouldn’t be noticed right away. She was so fiercely and rightfully proud of all she’d accomplished. He was sure she didn’t want to give up even a shred of her independence.

  While she changed her shoes for hiking and packed a snack for tea, he walked down to the spring behind the house. It gushed from the earth to form a small, crystal clear basin, and Mara had hauled stones to line it. He had noticed the first time that he’d gone for water that stones were needed at the source of the spring, too, to keep silt from washing into the basin.

  He crouched beside the spring and began to feed stones into the places where they were missing. When he had used up the ones within easy reach, he stood and ranged farther, hauling them back and setting them in place. He became so involved in his project that he forgot to watch out for Mara.

  “Now that’s something I’ve had on my mind to do for months,” she said.

  He stood and faced her, chagrined. “I was just killing time.”

  “And why should anyone want to? We’ve so little of it as it is.”

  “You’ve done such a good job with the spring. I was just playing with it a bit.”

  “You were helping, and you’ve been helping for months. Did you think I would no’ see?”

  He smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re beginning to like this place, Duncan. It’s weaving its spell around you.”

  “You’ve got a better imagination than I was giving you credit for.”

  “You like my croft, and you like the village, and you’re beginning to grow fond of some of the people here, even though you find it hard to admit.” She walked toward him and stopped. She stroked her palms up his chest.

  “I am definitely fond of certain people.” He put his arms around her and drew her closer.

  “You still have Scotland in your blood.”

  He was beginning to believe he had a certain woman in his blood. Every day since they had become lovers he warned himself to be careful. He would not be staying in Druidheachd, and Mara would not be leaving. All they could ever hope to have was a brief, passionate love affair. But no matter how many times he told himself to slow down and step back, he couldn’t stay away from her.

  “You know, it wouldn’t be hard to channel this water into your house,” he said. “With a pump and some pipe you could have running water.”

  “Aye. I’ve thought of it more than once.”

  “And there are ways of running electricity in from the road that wouldn’t ruin your views.”

  “And telephone, too?”

  “Sure, and we could hook you up to a computer network and buy you a fax machine and a satellite dish and get you on the information superhighway in a jiffy.” He snapped his fingers.

  She laughed and reached up to kiss his nose. “I want to keep the cottage just the way it is. But I’ve other plans for this property. Shall I show you?”

  He clasped her hand in his. “You have my undivided attention.”

  He learned soon enough that her plans were extensive. The cottage that she lived in now was someday to be a dormitory for schoolchildren who would come to learn the ways of their ancestors and the history of the Highlands. She wanted to build more cottages like it, to have the older children do it themselves as part of their learning experience. With the right kind of help and supervision they could learn to construct walls and thatch roofs. She believed it would give them the same sense of pride and accomplishment that building the cottage had given her.

  “But I dinna need to live this way forever,” she said, swinging Duncan’s hand in hers. “I’m going to build a bigger, more modern house for myself. One with water and electricity and proper plumbing.”

  “I definitely vote for the plumbing.”

  She stopped and pointed to a place just beyond them. “There.”

  He could imagine a house on the spot she had chosen. It was a wide, level site with a view that on a clear day like this one probably couldn’t be topped. He whistled softly and his imagination took flight.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s outstanding.”

  “I knew when I saw it that I wanted this property. That’s why I bought it. I started small so that I could learn what I needed to. Now I think I’m ready for this.”

  “You’re not saying that you’re going to do the work yourself?”

  “No. Some, perhaps. But I’ll be well prepared to supervise.”

  He wondered if he would ever see the finished product. He could imagine the house, nothing large or ostentatious, but small enough to be cozy and roomy enough not to feel cramped. There would be wide windows on every side, double paned and tightly sealed against the wind. And Mara, with an artist’s sensitivity, would design a flawlessly simple floor plan with an eye for the best of traditional and contemporary.

  “It’ll be wonderful,” he assured her.

  “Do you think so? I’ll show you my plans someday. You might have suggestions you’ll want to make.”

  He didn’t know how to remind her that he wouldn’t be in Druidheachd much longer. His suggestions would be worth nothing because he wouldn’t be here to see them implemented. He had always been honest about his plans to sell the hotel an
d leave Scotland, but now he felt reluctant to mention them again.

  She led him across the site and down a path where he had never been. The path narrowed at the edge of a sheer drop of fifty feet or more, then it seemed to stop. She stood beside a large boulder, a chunk of mountain that probably had fallen from some higher peak hundreds of years before. The boulder was covered with a fine, lacy moss, some of which was in flower. Brambles grew in a thicket just beyond them and vines twined and slithered along the ground. “You must swear never to tell any secrets you might learn here,” she said. “You must promise.”

  “This is where you keep all the men who’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you, isn’t it? I’ve wondered where you put them.”

  “Duncan,” she said severely. “You must promise.”

  “On my honor.”

  “Hold up your hand.”

  He did.

  “I suppose you can follow, then.” She turned and with her back to the boulder, she slid along beside it, carefully watching every step. When she was halfway around she beckoned. “Just watch your feet, and you’ll be safe.”

  “Dipping the sheep is beginning to sound more and more appealing.”

  “Are you afraid of heights, Duncan?”

  “No. Just of breaking my neck.”

  “You will no’ fall if you pay attention. And if you do fall, I have a sturdy rope. Somewhere.” She smiled. “I think.”

  He followed her and discovered that the ground at the base of the boulder was solid rock and wider than it had looked. Mara took his hand on the other side. “Welcome to Lon an Sith.”

  “Lon an Sith?”

  “Fairy’s burn. Look below you. What is it you see?”

  The path dropped sharply for a hundred yards or more, then widened. Beyond that he glimpsed paradise. He didn’t know what to say. The area was completely unspoiled, as if no one had ever stepped foot there before. A variety of foliage covered what was probably a three-acre glen. A brook bubbled over stones to one side and pooled between two large rocks, then narrowed once more and flowed out of sight.

  “It’s magnificent.”