Between (14 page)

“
What? Tell me!”

“
It’s fair embarrassing. I cannot tell you.”

“
Please?” I asked in my sweetest tone.

He laughed and shook his head like I was mad. “I don’t know what it is about you but you always surprise me. You seem to get pleasure from the oddest things. First my kissing the bird woman at the palace and now this. I’m not sure you’re well.”

I smacked him on the arm, my face set and determined. “Quit stalling. Come on, out with it.”

“
All right, all right. I was going to say that we had such a bad brawl one time that I broke his nose.” My eyes grew wide but I kept quiet, waiting for him to elaborate. “I was… well… how do I say it?” He coughed, steeling himself, and the words tumbled out of him in a confession.

“
I was thirteen years old, out in the field tending the horses. Eachann, our brown stallion was mating with the grey mare Arabella. She had her tail in the air and he was pulled up behind her, his front legs pressed against her sides as he took her, and I stood there watching them. And to be quite honest, I was very excited by it. Duncan saw me watching the horses and said something that I will not repeat to you.” He frowned at me in warning to not push him on it. “I was so embarrassed that I went after him in a wild rage and didn’t stop until I’d broken his nose and he apologized.”

I stifled a giggle, not wanting to hurt his feelings but he could see the mirth in my eyes. He shook his head, laughing. “Uncle William took the strap to me awful fierce for what I’d done. Twenty lashes and my arse was so blistered that I couldn’t ride a horse for a week!” He winced and dramatically rubbed his backside. “But it was completely worth it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. He so deserved it, the auld bugger.”

My giggles broke loose and he joined in, relieved to have gotten through his story. “Well, I’m glad your uncle didn’t do any lasting damage to your arse,” I said, “since I happen to be rather fond of it.” I reached out and pinched him in demonstration.

“
Are ye now?” he asked, laying on the accent thick. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he leaned me back against the couch and I promptly forgot what we were talking about.

In the morning, I sang along with the stereo while making huckleberry pancakes. Aiden came up behind me as I ladled batter into the skillet and put his arms around my waist. We swayed back and forth to the music.

“
You’ve a beautiful voice,
mo chridhe
. I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”

“
Thanks,” I said. He spun me around and we danced around the kitchen. “Did you know that you sing in your sleep? I’ve spent a fair amount of time watching you sleep and you’ll often hum a song in your dreams.”

“
No, no one’s ever told me that before.” I giggled as he twirled me around, then dipped me dramatically at the end of the song. He gestured to a small, framed picture on the wall, one of me when I was about five years old.

“
I like that painting of you as a lassie with the pig tails in your hair, holding up the wee fish that you caught, looking so proud. How did the artist make it so clear?”

“
It’s not a painting, actually. It’s called a picture,” I said, setting a plate in front of him as he sat at the card table. “It’s made with a little square box called a camera. Come to think of it…” I rustled through the drawers in the kitchen. “Aha!” I exclaimed, digging the digital camera out from under a stack of cloth napkins. I sat down on his lap, my cheek pressed close to his and, holding the camera out in front of us, snapped our picture. I switched it to playback mode and handed it to him. “See?”

“
That’s incredible. How do you get it out of the box, then?” He shook the camera up and down.

“
No, you have to have it printed on paper. Would you like to see some more?” He nodded, taking a bite of breakfast, and I fetched the old photo album from the living room. He thumbed through it as we ate, then pointed out a photo of me at age two in a pink polka dotted bikini making a sandcastle, my toddler belly sticking out like a round melon.

“
My goodness, you were a cute wee bairn with your curly hair short and tight on your head like a bonnet.” He turned the page. “Ah, here’s one of your parents back when they were younger,” he said. Mom and Dad were gazing into each other’s eyes, sharing a private smile, obviously unaware that someone was taking their photograph. “Perhaps they weren’t always so unhappy together, eh?” I pulled the album around so I could see it better and studied the picture with a frown.

“
You’re right. They look like they’re in love to me,” I said and pushed the album away, not willing to examine the feelings that stirred up in me.

“
What about your parents?” I asked. “What were they like? I remember your mother from the painting at the château, but I don’t know what your father looked like. Do you remember him much at all?”

“
Aye, I have a few memories of him before he died.” He smiled in remembrance, his eyes far away as he ate, quietly thinking. I was eager to ask him more but decided to wait until he was ready to continue. He took a sip of coffee and then leaned back in the chair with a deep breath, his hands behind his head. “My Da… he was… how do I describe him? Larger than life, I suppose, though I don’t know if he really was, or if that’s just how I remember him because I was so young when he died. He was tall and strong, but agile like a man half his size. He loved to joke around and people would cross a room to be near him.

“
My mam, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She was gentle and motherly, but easily overwhelmed by us lads. Da kept us in line, but she had a very hard time with us after he died.” He grew silent, swept up in thoughts of his family lost long ago. He shrugged, trying to shake it off. “They loved each other something fierce, though. That I knew fine, even as a wee lad. And though I was only six when he died, I learned what it means to love a woman from my Da.” He reached out and took my hand, looking down at my wedding band as he rolled it back and forth with his fingers.

“
Do you suppose I could meet them?” I asked, knowing it would be difficult for him to see them again, but really wanting to share in his past. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if he’d never thought of casting the memory for me.

“
Hmph. Aye, I suppose I could take you there to see them. It’s a pity they cannot meet you. I think they’d like you very much.”

When I leaned across the table to kiss him, his lips were sweet with maple syrup.

“
I would love for you to meet them. Still, I must warn you that I don’t have many memories to choose from. They may not be so… delicate.” His eyes twinkled and I cocked one eyebrow at him, intrigued. He broke into a full belly laugh and set me on my feet, taking my hand as he cast the memory before us.

The warm kitchen melted away in waves and the cold, damp air of Scotland wrapped its fingers around me, making me shiver in my long skirts and heavy woolen cloak. Our breath created translucent puffs in the wintry air and I huddled close to Aiden. He seemed perfectly comfortable in his linen shirt and kilt even though a light dusting of snow covered the ground. His mother stood next to us outside the front of the castle, trying to contain two fidgeting little boys.

“
Shhh, lads, they’ll be at the gate soon enough,” she said. Her plain skirts and overcoat hung on thin shoulders, though she stood a head taller than me. Curly strands of blonde hair snuck out of her bonnet, trickling down over her shoulders. Anxiety lined her face as she attempted to keep the boys in line. Aiden and Duncan pushed and shoved one another, completely undeterred by their mother’s admonitions to be quiet. I smiled at their miniature kilts and wavy blond hair, flowing loose over their shoulders.

The sound of horses reached us and I could just make out a small band of men at the far end of the bridge. Aiden’s mother released her hold on the boys’ shoulders and they took off running across the bridge. Duncan reached the men first and cried out to the big, red-haired man at the head of the group. His father’s face broke into a wide smile. He reached down a calloused hand and pulled the boy onto the horse in front of him in one easy motion. He ruffled Duncan’s hair and squeezed him with a large forearm until the boy gasped for air. Aiden finally made it to the horses, wheezing out a “Da!,” his face filled with pure joy at the arrival of his father.

“
Aiden, my boy!” his father called out in a deep, booming voice. He expertly shifted his weight on the horse to reach low enough to pull him up. Aiden crawled over his brother, purposefully stepping on Duncan’s hand, I was pretty sure, and latched himself onto his father’s back like a monkey.

“
Hugh, them’s a couple o’ wee devils you’ve got there,” said a dark-haired and heavily bearded man in the party.

“
Aye, but if they’ve horns and a tail, they come by it honestly, as I’ve never been much of an angel myself,” Aiden’s father responded. “Come to think of it, neither have you, Rory,” he continued. “So ’tis a good thing they look like me or I might have cause to wonder, eh?” Hugh raised an eyebrow and grinned at the man, who responded with a good-natured laugh.

Aiden’s dad had passed on his wide forehead and defined cheekbones to his sons, though he had a mass of red-gold hair that reminded me of the sun setting over the loch. A green and red kilt hung loose over his legs, the plaid swung up over his shoulder and pinned with a simple gold brooch.

He was heavily armed, carrying a broadsword, dirk, and two pistols, which made me wonder what his expedition had been about. He looked as though he’d been riding for days without rest, but the joy in his eyes at being home with his family was clear. As they drew nearer the castle, I could see the silhouette of Aiden’s mother, waiting anxiously for their arrival.

“
Ah, Leah,” Hugh said under his breath in tones of adoration and desire, as he stared at her thin frame, backlit by the setting sun. Rory brought his horse up alongside him and gestured to Leah with his chin.

“
I’ll take the horses to the stable. Go on and give my best to your wife.”

Hugh thanked him and slid off the horse, pulling Duncan and Aiden with him. He held the boys’ hands as they walked the rest of the way to the castle entrance. Leah stood, quivering as she waited, then broke into a run as they drew near. He let go of the boys and scooped her up in a bear hug, kissing her and spinning her around. When he set her down, he pulled the bonnet off and combed his hands through her long blonde curls. “Gracious, I missed you, my bride. I told you not to get more beautiful while I was away, but you didn’t listen.”

She beamed up at him in delight. “I’m glad you’re home, Hugh.” He put his arm around her and they walked slowly back to the castle, the two boys running circles around them. When they reached the entrance, she started to open the door, but Hugh shook his head.

“
No, love, I think I’ll take the wee rascals and go for a dip to wash up before supper.”

She protested with a hand on his arm. “I’d be happy to draw you a hot bath. I’ll even wash and brush your hair for you, if you like. Shave you, too.” She ran her fingertips over the wiry red whiskers on his cheeks. He made a low humming noise in his throat as he pulled her towards him.

“
If that’s not the most tempting offer I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is. But I fear I will not stay awake long enough to eat my supper, let alone be any use to you later tonight if I don’t take a wee dip now.” He waggled his eyebrows and she looked away with a shy smile.

Then, to my surprise, she peeked up at him through her lashes and said, “Aye, then. I’ve plans for you later, so you’d best keep up your strength.” Laughter bubbled up from him, loud and infectious, and he swatted her playfully on the rump as she headed into the castle.

“
I’ve never let you down before, lassie. I don’t think I’ll start now,” he called to her retreating form, then turned his attention to the two young boys at his heels. “All right, lads, let’s have a bit of a swim, shall we?”

Duncan and Aiden shrieked with excitement and took off running down the hill to the loch, stripping their clothes off as they went. Hugh laughed heartily as he walked behind them, watching the boys’ shirts, kilts and shoes sail through the air. He certainly was larger than life and built like a brick wall: thick barrel chest, timber-like legs and massive arms, with not an ounce of fat anywhere on him.

The two pink, naked boys ran the length of the dock and flew off the end in a joyous splash, though the water must have been freezing. I turned my eyes away while Hugh undressed. Aiden tucked me close against him, his chest shaking with quiet laughter. Hugh’s footsteps were barely audible as he ran down the dock, and I looked up just in time to see him cannonball into the lake, sending the boys careening with a giant splash.

“
Da! Toss me like a caber!” Duncan shouted.

“
Aye, lad, but I’d best start with wee Aiden here, since he’s more of a tree branch than a caber. I need to work up to tossing you, since you’ve grown to be such a man.” His eyes crinkled with amusement at Duncan, who swelled with pride at the compliment.

“
That’s a good idea. Go ahead and toss Aiden first, then.”

Little Aiden—apparently not put out by being called the Scottish equivalent of scrawny—eagerly swam over to his father who held out his hands, fingers locked. Aiden scrambled up his body to stand on them, his face aglow with anticipation. He stiffened, arms pinned to his sides and Hugh flung him into the air with a quick thrust, sending Aiden flipping end over end across the lake.