The Highlander's Bargain

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The Highlander's Bargain Page 9

by Barbara Longley


  “I’ve been working at Fairview Riverside Hospital since I graduated from nursing school. I’ll be able to stay on there as a midwife. It’s my dream.” Glancing his way, she tried hard to ignore his hopeful expression. Surely he didn’t expect her to return with him.

  “Your century lacks the technology for one lone practitioner to make a dent. If you want, I can send you back with some books on the subject of childbirth if you think that’ll help.”

  “My thanks. Any knowledge you’re willing to share would be greatly appreciated.” His brow lowered, he went back to eating. “Mark wanted me to ask you if you’re interested in ‘going out’ with him. I assume that means he wishes to court you.”

  She nearly choked on the soup she’d just put into her mouth. Clearing her throat, she reached for her napkin and wiped her mouth. Finally composed, she answered, “I’m not interested in going out with Mark. I’m not interested in going out with anybody.”

  “Why is that, lass?” Rob fixed his blue eyes on her. They were filled with puzzlement. “You’re young and beautiful beyond compare. If Mark is any indication, the men of your time find you extremely desirable. Indeed, in any era men would find you irresistible, as do I. Do you no’ wish to someday have a husband and bairns of your own?”

  “No.” She swallowed against the sudden constriction blocking her throat and kept her eyes on the egg noodles floating around in her bowl.

  “Tell me why no’.”

  She shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. My mother has had five husbands. I kind of think she’s used up her quota and mine. I don’t want to go through what she’s gone through. Scratch that.” She lifted her chin. “I won’t put myself through that kind of misery.”

  “To have buried so many husbands surely caused immeasurable grief, but—”

  “Buried?” She huffed out a laugh. “None of them are under the ground, sir knight. My mom divorces them, or they divorce her. I’ve had so many stepdads, I can’t keep them straight.”

  “All divorced?”

  “All but her current, and it’s looking like another split is imminent.” His shocked expression went straight through her, and embarrassment churned the soup and sandwich combo in her belly into an uncomfortable glop. Yep. That’s the kind of background every woman wants to share with a hunkmeister like Robley.

  “Ah.”

  “Exactly. Ah.” She played with her spoon and glanced at him through her lashes. “So you see why there won’t be anything between us other than friendship.”

  “Humph.”

  A dimple appeared, and something indefinable put a glint in his eyes, setting all kinds of warning bells chiming in her head—and in her heart.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Robley sat on the couch reading the book in his lap, while darting glances at the clock upon the kitchen wall. Erin would be home soon, and tonight they were going to dinner at the McGladreys’.

  “Hello!” Erin burst through the door, a brown sack clutched to her chest and her heavy pack hanging from one shoulder.

  Placing his book facedown, Robley rose to meet her. “Good day to you. Here, let me take these for you.” He removed her pack from her shoulder and placed it on a chair. “What have you here?” he asked, taking the sack and peeking inside.

  “White chocolate chips and macadamia nuts.” She took the bag back and set it on the kitchen counter. “Once I wash off the hospital smell, I’m going to make cookies for tonight.”

  “Cookies?”

  “Small, round, sweet treats.” She patted his face, stopping his heart. “You’re going to love them.”

  “Might I help with this endeavor?”

  “Sure.” She glanced at the table by the couch. “Go back to your book while I shower and change.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You aren’t still reading that same book, are you?”

  “Nay. You’ve quite a collection by some fellow named Louis L’Amour, and I’m reading one of his tomes now. ’Tis quite informative and entertaining. I can hardly credit that a man could write so many books in one lifetime. It takes our monks at least a full year to copy but one.”

  She’d started down the hall, and he followed. “How was your day at school, lass?”

  “Wonderful. I’ll tell you all about it after I shower. Would you mind making a pot of coffee?”

  “’Twould be my pleasure.” He bowed and made his way back to the kitchen to do as his lady bid him, marveling at the sweetness of having Erin walk through the door to greet him. Grinning like a besotted fool, he readied the coffeemaker as she’d taught him and then pushed the brew button. Too restless to read, he wiped the kitchen counter down and wondered what he might do to prepare for the cookie making.

  He’d oft spent hours in the kitchen at Loch Moigh and Meikle Geddes. Especially during the long winter months. For certes it was the warmest place to be found in both keeps. The cooks used bowls and wooden paddles to mix their pastries. Mayhap Erin had the like hidden away somewhere in her tiny kitchen.

  Opening a cabinet door, he crouched to investigate the contents. He found a set of stacked earthenware bowls and drew them out. She kept another earthenware container next to the oven, and there he found two wooden spoons to his liking. By the time he had assembled everything, she was back.

  She wore a pair of jeans and a soft-looking garment that clung to her shapely form. The midnight blue accentuated the color of her hair just so. She pushed up the sleeves and smiled at him. His mouth went dry, and he gestured to the pile of things he’d put together. “I hope these might be of use in this cookie-baking business.”

  “Perfect.” Erin placed her hands on his shoulders and moved him out of her way.

  He caught a whiff of her fresh, clean scent and drew her in for a quick embrace. “You smell so good; I vow there can be no treat as sweet as you.”

  She laughed and set him at arm’s length. “You are so full of it.”

  “Full of what, lass?” He put his hands in his pockets and moved aside as she gathered the foodstuffs she required.

  “Never mind. Get the bag I brought in with me.” She pointed to the kitchen table. “Do you know anything about halves and quarters?”

  “Aye. I ken that when I cleave my enemy in half, he will fall to the ground in two equal pieces, and if a man be drawn and quartered, he will die in—”

  “Eww. That’s gross!” She smacked his shoulder lightly with the wooden spoon. “I meant measuring cups and spoons. Here’s what I’m talking about,” she said, pointing to a set of cups, nestled one inside the other, and varying sizes of spoons. “They are labeled. All you have to do is match up the label with what the recipe calls for. Use the straight edge of a knife to skim the top to remove excess.”

  She thrust one of the bowls at him. “Here. You can put the dry ingredients together, and I’ll cream the butter, sugar and eggs.” She shot him a wry look. “Do you think a bloodthirsty knight such as yourself might be able to handle such a tame task?”

  “Aye, though I might need fortification first. Coffee?”

  “I’d love some.”

  He poured two mugs of the fresh brew and fixed Erin’s just the way she liked it, sweet and full of cream. “My lady,” he said, handing her the first mug.

  She sipped, made appreciative noises and set it down on the counter. “Thank you, Rob. I have trained you well.”

  “That you have.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. She didn’t back away, and his heart soared. He moved to the area where she’d set the dry ingredients and went about measuring, dumping and mixing. “This cooking business is no’ so complicated.”

  Erin turned on the oven and put on an apron that had been hanging on a hook. “Nope. Not at all complicated.” She cracked an egg on the edge of her bowl and reached for another. “Do you want to hear what happened today?” She glanced at him, her eyes alight and a shy smil
e gracing her lovely mouth.

  “Absolutely.” He nudged her with his hip. “I live to hear of your adventures during clinicals.”

  “I got to deliver a baby girl today,” she said, her tone hushed and awe-filled. “It was so amazing. She didn’t even cry when she came out. She was so alert, looking at everything and taking it all in.” She sighed. “Everything went perfect, and I’m the one who got to place that baby on her mother’s tummy the moment she slid out.”

  “You truly love what you do, don’t you, lass?”

  “I do. I’m a very lucky woman to have a vocation I’m passionate about.”

  “You could do it anywhere, aye?” Like, in his century, serving his clan.

  “I suppose I could.” She glanced into his bowl. “We’re ready to put these together. Look in that far cabinet underneath the silverware drawer. There are a couple of flat cookie sheets. Let’s bake these cookies, and then we’ll have a little while to relax before we leave.” She sipped her coffee again and watched as he combined the dry ingredients with her mixture.

  “Thanks for helping, sir knight.” She added the white chips and nuts and folded them into the mixture.

  “’Twas my pleasure, my lady.”

  Erin taught him how to drop spoonfuls of the batter onto the flat pans to bake, and the rest of the afternoon they spent baking and cooling the delicious cookies.

  She brought out a large plastic container with a lid. “If you keep eating those, you’re not going to want dinner,” she admonished, loading the cooled treats into the plastic bowl.

  “Mmm.” He swallowed the sixth or seventh sample and washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “I’ve no’ had the like. I swear, they are bewitched, for I canna seem to stop myself from going for more.”

  Erin moved the rack of cooling cookies out of his reach and transferred them into her container. “At this rate, we won’t have any left to bring to the McGladreys.” He reached for another, and she sheltered the bowl against her midriff and turned away. “Stop!”

  “I dinna wish to stop.” He reached around her with both arms, drew her back against his chest and dropped his chin to her shoulder. “One more. Please?” Truth be told, nothing compared with the sweetness of having Erin in his arms. Laughing, she twisted and turned as he tried to pilfer another cookie. “One more, and I swear ’twill be the last.”

  “OK. One more, but that’s it.” She handed him a cookie and looked at the clock. “Shoot. We have to get going. Baking the cookies took longer than I thought.”

  They hurried to clean up, gathered coats and shoes and got ready to depart. Erin made one more round to ensure that she’d turned off the oven and coffeemaker, and then he escorted her out of the building to her small car.

  “Did I tell you about the baby I got to deliver this morning during my clinicals?” Erin’s voice practically trilled with excitement.

  Robley opened her car door for her before circling the front and climbing into the passenger side himself. “Aye, lass, you did, but I’d love to hear the tale again.” He grinned at her as he buckled his seat belt. “Tell me.” He took the container of cookies they’d baked and set it on his lap.

  She’d been rattling on about her experience all afternoon, and he loved seeing her so happy. He loved that he was the one with whom she shared the events of her day. Warmth spread through his chest, and he reached for her hand to give it a squeeze.

  She squeezed back. “I should take you to see the hospital where I work. You could meet some of the midwives I’m training with and see firsthand some of the modern-day medical technologies.”

  “I’d very much enjoy seeing that.”

  She pulled onto the roadway and headed for Connor’s dwelling. “Don’t you think it’s kind of spooky how your life, mine and the McGladreys’ lives have all kind of intersected? What are the odds that you’d fall into me the way you did, and that I’d be so closely associated with another time traveler?”

  “’Tis the way of the faeries, lass. I dinna believe for a moment that any of our meetings could be termed ‘coincidental.’”

  She sighed. “That makes it all the more spooky.”

  “Nay. ’Twas meant to be is all. My thanks, by the way, for the lesson in cookie baking earlier.” A soft smile lit her face, and he lost his breath.

  “Thanks for the help. It was fun.”

  “I agree. Will you teach me how to cook other things as well? Mayhap once I’m more skilled, you’d let me cook you dinner.”

  “Oh, I’d love that. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to come home after a long day of school and work to find dinner ready and waiting.” She glanced at him. “I’d feel so spoiled.”

  “I’d love to spoil you a bit if you’d let me.”

  He heard her breath catch, and she turned her concentration back to the road ahead. The rest of their journey, he was able to settle back and stare at her unimpaired. She truly was a delight to look upon, especially so when lit from within with happiness. Would that he could endeavor to keep her thus for all time.

  Soon she pulled to the curb in front of the McGladreys’ home. Robley surveyed the dwelling and the surrounding toft. About the size of a wealthy merchant’s two-storied manor, their home was grand enough he supposed, but hardly comparable to Moigh Hall, Castle Inverness or even Meikle Geddes. He couldn’t imagine five or more people living in such close proximity. On the other hand, he quite liked Erin’s cozy apartment, which to his thinking was more akin to one grand chamber for a couple who were wed. Mostly he found it adequate because she was there. He’d enjoy it even more if they shared one bed.

  He jumped out of the car and raced around to the driver’s side to help her out. He handed her the container of cookies and placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the McGladreys’ front door.

  “Wow. They have a nice house,” Erin whispered. She shifted the container of cookies to one hand and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “I’ve met Connor’s wife. She’s a pediatrician.”

  “I dinna ken what that means.”

  “She’s a doctor who works with children.”

  The word doctor was not familiar either, but he let it go. “You smell good, lass.”

  “Like the white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies we spent all afternoon baking?” She shot him a wry grin.

  “Mmm. Mayhap a taste before we go inside?” He drew her close, and barely brushing her skin, he nuzzled her neck and inhaled. Heaven. Her sweet, fresh scent filled him, and the velvety soft warmth of her skin heated his blood. She raised her shoulder and shivered, proving he affected her the way she did him.

  “You’ve already eaten a half dozen of these cookies,” she said. “I think you’ve tasted enough.”

  “I was no’ referring to the cookies, love.”

  “Robley . . .”

  “Aye?”

  “We talked about this.”

  “Did we? I recall a conversation regarding your mother, lass, but you are no’ your mother.” He gazed into her eyes, gauging just how much he could say before she hid behind the wall she’d built around her heart. “I recall hearing about your misguided notion that because of the many stepfathers passing through your life that you and I canna be together. I didna agree with you then, and I dinna agree with you now.”

  Did she not realize she never pulled away when he touched her? Though she feared getting close, they were becoming so anyway. He understood her fears, but it only made him more determined to prove to her that she could trust him with her heart.

  Madame Giselle had sent him to Erin. Of this he was certain. With her skills and knowledge as a midwife, she’d be a treasure to his clan. They were meant for each other, and his determination to win her strengthened tenfold. The task of convincing her to return with him to his century presented a challenge—but MacKintosh men thrived on challenges.
/>   Surely it would take more than a month’s time to make her his, and this era held so much to discover and enjoy. Perhaps a year would suffice. After all, when they returned, he could focus upon the very date he’d left, and it would be like no time at all had passed. A full year’s time would also provide him with the opportunity to own a Harley, at least for a short while. Aye, he’d stay as long as it took to achieve his goals: win his lady’s heart and trust, convince her to return with him to the fifteenth century and own a Harley Davidson.

  Grinning, he reached out and used the knocker on the McGladreys’ door. A young girl with a smartphone in hand answered. Mayhap she was ten and five or six years old, and she had her father’s reddish-gold hair and freckles, but where Connor’s eyes were blue, his daughter’s eyes were a dark brown. Robley bowed. “You must be Meghan.”

  “That’s right, and you must be the fifteenth-century knight my dad told us about.”

  “I am. Robley of clan MacKintosh at your service, lass.” He gestured toward Erin. “This is my lady, Erin of clan Durie. Our thanks for your hospitality.”

  Meghan rolled her eyes and opened the door wider, ushering them inside. “My parents are in the kitchen. This way.” She led them toward the back of the house.

  “Smells good in here,” Erin said.

  “Mom made her famous pot roast. It’s Dad’s favorite.”

  They entered a large, bright kitchen. Connor stood at the counter, knife in hand and a pile of vegetables before him. “Robley, Erin, welcome. This is my wife, Katherine.”

  “Call me Kathy.” A tall, fair lass glanced at them from her place by the stove. “It’s good to see you again, Erin, and it’s amazing to meet another man from the Middle Ages.” She cast him a welcoming smile. “I’m sure this has been quite an adjustment for you. Meghan, take over making the salad for your dad. Connor, would you get our guests something to drink?”

  “Of course.” Connor handed the knife to his daughter and moved out of the way. “Ale or wine?”

  “Ale, if you please.” Robley took off his hooded sweatshirt and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

 

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