“Didja nae bring ’em back with ya?” Gerard inquired as he came up from behind the kitchen to join the group. “I’ve a lot o’ fond memories o’ ’em growing up. They were a lively bunch.”
Ellora’s throat tightened up as she slowly shook her head. “They passed away a year ago,” she choked out, trying her hardest not to cry in front of all these strangers. She squeezed her eyes shut as fresh tears threatened to fall against her will. The effort it took to force them back stung. Even the mention of their untimely death ripped Ellora’s aching heart wide open, the agonizing pain still raw and never seeming to fully heal. No matter how many times she practiced or how hard she tried, Ellora would never ever get over their death.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” gasped Kristy, joining Gerard behind the bar. “May I ask how, sweeting?”
“Car crash,” was all Ellora managed to reply. She dipped her head low so that they couldn’t see the traitorous tears that snuck out against all her efforts to hold them back. After taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she looked up.
“I'm their only child. I never quite felt like I fit in there, so I thought I would make a new start here. My mother’s heart was in Portree, so I felt like she would be right here with me.” That was half true. The other half of the reason was that Ellora was on the run from a true monster.
The man to her right, who she barely noticed because of how quiet he'd been, suddenly let out a low grumbling huff. He put his hands on his temples and leaned on the bar with his elbows. His jaw muscles ticked in frustration. Slowly, he picked his head up and looked right at Ellora, studying her from head to toe. His eyebrows pinched together as he searched for something in her eyes. Ellora nervously fidgeted with her hands under the heavy weight of his intense scrutiny. His eyes seemed to penetrate through her bullshit story and see the truth. His attention made her extremely uncomfortable. After a few more breathless moments, a look of familiar grief showed in his haunting pale blue eyes. Relieved, Ellora convinced herself that she must’ve imagined the whole encounter.
“I'm truly sorry for the loss o’ your parents, and the grief it has caused you, love. That's a terrible thing...” He trailed off. His voice was so alarmingly deep it almost startled her. Finally, Ellora was able to take in the stranger next to her. She realized for the first time how huge this man was, easily reaching six and a half feet tall and at least two-hundred twenty pounds of powerful muscle. His physique proved that he was no stranger to manual labor. This man's powerful build was obviously the result of working very hard his whole life. He had broad defined shoulders and a wide sculpted chest that could be seen easily through the thin material of his long sleeved shirt. Ellora continued to stare as he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. She watched the movement, her gaze traveling up until she finally met his eyes. He stared unabashedly back at her, the intensity of his stare so powerful she had to look away. She could still feel him staring in her peripheral vision. Her face grew warm as a blush crept up her cheeks.
He turned away after a few tense moments ticked by and gazed off at nothing, a far-away look shadowing his eyes. Ellora took in the rest of him without the scrutiny of his stare. He was an extremely attractive man. His thick, dark brown hair was shorter than Gavin's spikes, which he wore lying down and brushed forward. His straight angled nose and square jaw, donning a bit of trimmed stubble, gave him a rugged yet clean-cut look. Unlike today's pretty-boy man-scapers of the world, this man was the ideal, all-powerful alpha male that women drooled over. But his eyes were what captured Ellora’s attention. They were pale and hauntingly light blue, made even more striking with the help of his thick, dark lashes. She could get lost in them.
She had to know his name. When she remembered that she could in fact talk, she stammered her question timidly. “Thank you for saying that, Mr…?” With eyebrows raised, she waited for him to tell her his name.
This magnificent looking man slowly turned his head, and the soft look he gave Ellora made her feel as if someone sucked the air out of her lungs. “M'name’s Behr, Behr Buchanan, Miss Sutherland.” When he smiled at her, the whole world seemed to stand still.
“Please, call me Ellora... Behr? Your name’s Behr?” Geez, with a name like that, he was destined to be big, she thought, inwardly giggling. Ellora was startled when the others started talking. She had completely forgotten anyone else was there.
“Aye, his mum could think nae better a name for a ten pound babe.” Gavin poked fun at Behr, reaching around her to jab his friend, laughing. Ellora smirked at the both of them as the room lightened up with an up roarish laugh. She was grateful for the change in subject. The conversation had been heading in a dark place she didn’t want to open up about. Any topic was better than her personal life.
“Well now, m’sweet, where’ll you be stayin'?” Kristy inquired with a kind motherly tone.
Ellora let out a frustrated sigh and broke the news. “I don't seem to have anywhere to stay. I've walked up and down the Pier, both Quay Street and Beaumont Crescent. I'm told that the spring season is when all the tourists flood the area, and most places are booked through summer. I guess I might check other lodges around town tomorrow, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do tonight.”
“You’re in luck, m’dear. All these row buildings ’ave three or four floors to ’em. This ’en ’ere your standing in has three floors. The second floor has two cozy flats, and the third is one large flat. They’re nae modern in their furnishings, but all's clean and well kept. Aye, and one o’ the best views in town, she has. It'll do just fine,” Kristy asserted, not bothering to ask Grady for permission.
Ellora looked over to Grady; she didn’t want to get too excited over the offer. What if Grady didn’t want any guests? She didn’t want to over-step her bounds. “I don't want to trouble you ...”
Kristy interrupted her and insisted sternly, “He willnae refuse you, sweeting. You're nae trouble to anyone here. Now, you are our guest, so relax yourself. How ’bout something hot to eat? You are soaked to the core, and I dinnae want you catching your death.” Ellora’s stomach picked that moment to growl so loudly that Kristy's eyebrows flew up in surprise. She shook her head and snickered. “Aye, that answered ma’ question sure enough. I'll ’ave some hot stew brought out for you, dear.”
“Gerard, you heard the woman. Best put that apron on an’ get to it, man,” Patrick shouted, egging him on.
She sat up straighter and called out after them, “No, please, you don't have to do this. I have no way of paying you for room and board, or the meal. I was hoping to find somewhere vacant to crash for tonight, and go into town in the morning to try to find myself a job.” There, she finally said it. Now, hopefully they wouldn't kick her out on her butt altogether. But just in case, Ellora gulped down the rest of her delicious brew.
“I'll nae ’ave BB's only borne soaked an’ starving under m’roof,” Kristy stated with her hands on her hips, like she was offended by Ellora’s statement in some way.
Grady moved around the bar and stood in front of Ellora. He gently grasped her hand in his and put his other hand on top. Patting it gently, he confessed in a warm fatherly voice, “I've got this big ol' place, ya see, and nae a soul to fill it. With your da and ma gone, God rest their souls, I would be proud to look after you for as long as you need. Joseph would do nae less for any o’ us, had we needed him to.”
Ellora thought of her father’s kind and generous nature at that moment. She could almost hear his voice whispering in her ear as she looked around the bar, noticing its sad state, and got an idea. She knew exactly what he’d do if he was in her shoes. “Thank you, Grady. I'm grateful to you, and touched to know my parents knew such great friends. But, I guess I'm too much like my father, because I cannot accept handouts. So, I was thinking we could work out a trade.”
Grady raised an eyebrow at her, so she took that as a sign to go on.
“My father was a wonderful handyman here, and when they moved to New York, he expanded that skill
into becoming a very knowledgeable and successful contractor. He renovated old warehouses and factories in downtown Syracuse into beautiful apartments and condos, and he always took me on site with him. When I was old enough, I worked side by side with my father on every project. I could fix this pub back up to how it ought to be in return for meals and a place to stay.”
The bar went quiet, and all the patrons looked at one another. Patrick and Gerard looked down at their hands or drink with disbelief in their eyes. Gavin, the man to Ellora’s left, just winked at her with a cocky grin on his face. Behr's eyes warmed over the broodiness he'd been sporting the whole night. He smiled appreciatively and nodded his head, as if he liked what he heard. Grady smiled a big toothy grin and opened his mouth to say something, when Patrick interrupted. “Grady disnae need his toes painted, lass,” he instigated, laughing gruffly. “He needs a renovation, an' I dinnae think your nail-file is up for the task.”
Gerard joined him in mocking laughter, but was just as quickly rebuffed when Kristy shot him a menacing scowl.
“Aye, and the next thing you’re gonna tell me is you ’ave a pretty pink tool belt,” Patrick ridiculed.
Ellora’s face reddened, in embarrassment and resentment. But she put on a smile, remembering her mother telling her stories about how Scots loved a good taunt and a challenge. Ha! Two can play at this game, she told herself.
“Actually,” she proclaimed, lifting her head high. “I do have a pink tool belt that my father gave me, but I was looking to get a different one. Pink is more your color than mine.” Ellora eyed him up and down in a calculated way, trying hard not to laugh. “I'll give it to you and teach you a thing or two about how to work power tools while I'm at it.” Stroking her chin with her thumb and forefinger, she made a point of staring at his mid-section. She pointed at his gut then and swirled her finger. “Looks like you could use the training exercises, too. And, no, liquid workouts don't count! That spare tire of yours will definitely get in the way of the truly magnificent belt. Let me know when you're ready to man up, and then I'll walk you through it.” Ellora winked at him teasingly.
Patrick threw his head back and roared out a hearty belly laugh, as did everyone else.
“Ah, Ellora, a smartass ye are. You'll fit in ’ere just fine.” With a crooked smile, Patrick nodded at Grady. “She's a wee feisty lass. She’ll fit in ’ere just fine. Patrick's m'name. I work at the Portree firehouse. Aye, I do know a thing or two o’ tools, but red is more m’color, lass.”
“If Miss Sutherland is anything like her father was, I'd wager a bet she could ’ave this place turned 'round in the blink o’ an eye. Aye, I bet she could do just that.”
Ellora turned her head in the direction the voice was coming from, to a neatly put together man in his mid-thirties. His dark chestnut hair was cut close to his head and smoothed down, not a hair out of place. He was clean shaven with an average height and thin build. His features were very classically handsome, she decided, as he strode toward her from the other end of the bar with a professional gait.
He reached out his hand. “I'm pleased to meet you. M’name is Lachlan Sinclair, miss, and I'm the head doctor over at the Portree Medical Practice. It's good to get a fresh new face to brighten the town o’ all these old buzzards here.” He smiled as he grasped hold of her hand, and in a professionally polite manner, he shook it.
“Thank you, Dr. Sinclair. Please, everyone, call me Ellora.”
“Aye, and you may call me Lachlan. Well, since you will be staying ’ere with us for a while, let me hang this damp coat up for ya. It's doing you nae good keeping your lap wet, an’ I willnae need any late night patients keeping me from ma’ bed tonight.”
He seized her coat, folded it over his arm neatly, and marched over to the front corner of the bar. Old rusty hooks hung precariously from the wall. Lachlan placed her coat on the middle one then turned and bowed his head. “Well, lads, I best be off. I've a busy day in the morn', but I'll see you all at dusk.
“G'night, doc,” Grady tossed at him, before he shuffled back behind the bar to start his cleaning-up routine.
Lachlan met Ellora’s eyes. “I know I'll be seeing you, too, Ellora. ’Ave a good night.” With that, he lifted the thick collar of his trench coat up around his neck and stepped out into the rain.
Ellora’s head was spinning from the long exhausting day and the overwhelming banter at this pub. She was relieved when Kristy snatched the bowl of stew from Gerard and set it down in front of her, and she was convinced that nothing in the world smelled as good as this stew did to her. Ellora was starving. She noticed, as she looked down, that her hands were shaking, having not eaten since late the night before. Rushing to get the first flight out of Syracuse was obviously more important at the time. But as of right now, she was ready to eat her own hand.
“Just look at her. ’Ave you not eaten today, m’sweet? GER!” she shouted before Ellora could answer her back. “Fetch her some o’ that fresh loaf you've got back there.”
Ellora wolfed down her meal, hardly tasting it in her hungry state. She just sat back and listened to the guys laugh and taunt each other. Their voices rose as they all relived the stories about the crazy things they used to do growing up. One story in particular had Ellora’s ears prick up and listen; she remembered her father telling all the same exact stories. But, this one in particular was one of his favorites.
Gerard looked over at Ellora, capturing her attention. “One long lazy summer night, we were all hangin’ about, bored and looking for trouble. Well, your mother,” Gerard pointed directly at Ellora, “as well as Catie and Kristy over there, all dared each other to break into the high school to go skinny dippin’ in the indoor pool. O’ course, they threatened us to stay put and keep our peeping eyes to ourselves or they’d cut off important parts o’ our anatomy.” He and the others laughed heartily as they recalled the memory.
“Well, in order to get there quicker, we had to cut through several backyards. The last house shared a fence with the school, and belonged to the crazy guy. We never knew his real name, but the whole town called him that. He was bat-shit crazy and used to talk to himself, yelling at people who weren't really there. When the girls tiptoed through his yard, the crazy guy came running out, shaking his fist at ’em and threatening to kill anyone who walked through his yard again.” Gerard mimicked the movements and shouted belligerently, making the story all the more entertaining.
“So, the girls made it over the fence and in the school, making good on their dare. O’ course, then we lads snuck in after ’em to enjoy the view, threats be damned! It was Patty’s idea here, to steal away their clothes and make a run for it.” Patrick lifted his head up high and raised his mug, obviously still proud of his idea. Gerard imitated the girls squealing their surprise. “They jumped out, wrapping towels around ’em as they went chasing after us. We raced back through the crazy guy’s yard, drawing his attention through the window. By the time the girls made their way through his yard, BB got her bare feet stuck in the mud. The crazy guy came bolting out after ’em, threatening to yank away their towels as punishment for ruining his grass.”
Ellora laughed so hard at Gerard’s very vivid account of the story that she spit some of her soup out of her mouth. She thought that was his goal all along.
“Well, there was no way on God’s green Earth that Joseph was ever going to tolerate anyone else seeing his girl’s naked body but him! Coming to her rescue, he scooped her up and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The crazy guy ran after ’em, hot on their heels and screaming like a lunatic. Joseph double-timed his efforts, running so hard he ran right out o’ his shoes!”
Ellora was laughing so hard her cheeks burned from smiling so much. Gerard told this story just like her father used to, with over-exaggerated details, sound effects, and lots of flailing hand gestures. After the laughter died down a little, Gerard concluded the story. “We got away, o’ course. But the next time we went by his house, the crazy guy made it a point
to march around the border o’ his yard wearing Joseph's shoes!”
Ellora took in the lively group belly laughing around her, finally feeling the first real sense of family since sitting at the dinner table with her parents. She decided to jump into the fun, especially since Gerard left out the funniest part of the story.
“Yes, my father told me this story many times. But I'm surprised that you left out the best part… when Kristy was left with only a hand towel to cover herself. It barely covered the front of her, and the rest of Skye saw her bare behind as she ran through the neighborhood.” Ellora laughed harder when Kristy snapped her head so quickly in her direction, she thought for sure it'd snap right off.
Kristy gasped in an exaggerated high-pitched tone, blood colored her neck and cheeks. “Oh no, she dinnae tell you that? She swore she wouldnae tell a soul. Aye, my bum was much better to look at back then.”
“I certainly didn’t mind the view!” Gerard bravely confessed, dodging Kristy as she tried to slap him.
They all resumed their taunts and teasing for the remainder of the evening. A few insults were hurled at Ellora as she scarfed down her food in a very unlady-like fashion. She barely heard a “don't mistake your fingers for chips, love” or something along those lines. All she could hear was the loud crunching and slurping noise in her ears as she chewed. She should’ve felt embarrassed, because she probably looked like a hobo, scarfing down her food like she was.
In that moment, she thought of how her mom would’ve slapped her on the side of the head and tsk’d at her for not being lady-like. One of the only arguments they’d ever had was of her tom-boy ways. She would’ve rather been in the garage with her father than playing Barbies and dress-up with her mother. God, she missed her mom terribly. Once again, she felt a devastating emptiness inside of her. She would never get over their loss. She felt truly alone in this world. She had no one.
Forever Marked (Marked Series Book 1) Page 2
