Hell Transporter (Between) (13 page)

Sarah came up behind me and handed me my iced tea, which turned out to be very sweet and thick with lemon. She smiled at my puckered face when I took a sip.

“Ah, I should have warned you, honey. In the south, iced tea is sweet tea made with lemon simple syrup. Do you like it?”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s good. I just wasn’t ready for it.” I gestured to the photo of the boy in the uniform. “Is this your son? Or your grandson? He’s very handsome.”

She smiled softly, but her eyes held a distant sadness. I instantly wished I had kept my mouth shut. She laid her hand on my arm as she looked at the picture.

“That’s our son, Johnny. He died when he was eighteen. He was our only child.” Her voice made it clear she was not upset that I’d asked, but I felt awful anyway.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well…” A shadow of long-endured pain passed over her face, but then she purposefully straightened and her lips spread into a bright smile. “Do you like chicken fried steak, my dear? I’m afraid I’d already started cooking supper before Ian told me we’d have the pleasure of your company, so I didn’t get a chance to ask what you’d like to eat. I do hope that’s all right.” My stomach growled in response, which made her chuckle, and the awkward moment passed as Ian and Aiden joined us with their glasses of whisky.

Aiden put an arm around me as his eyes moved over the photographs. When he saw the picture of Johnny, he became very still. The smile slid from his face. Before I had the chance to ask him about it, Sarah called us over to sit down.

She set out plates heaped with food as we settled into our seats at the large dining table in the middle of the great room, the ceiling fan circling lazily overhead. The chicken fried steak was covered with a generous amount of brown gravy, which also topped a healthy dollop of mashed potatoes. A pile of collard greens and a steaming buttermilk biscuit completed the meal. Ian and Sarah bowed their heads to say grace and we followed suit.

I took a bite of steak and closed my eyes in bliss. “Wow, Sarah, this is incredible. You’re an amazing cook,” I said in awe. She smiled sweetly at me and Ian patted her hand, nodding in agreement.

“Aye, she knows the way to a man’s heart, that’s for sure. I never stood a chance.” He winked at her and slathered a biscuit with butter and honey.

“Yeah, she had you at that first forkful, I’ll bet,” I said.

He laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound that echoed off the walls. “That she did, indeed. In fact, I remember that first bite like it was yesterday. I was going to university in Atlanta and her fried chicken won a blue ribbon at the county fair. I watched the judges’ faces as they tried her dish, and there was no question hers was the best. A pretty girl in a blue dress stood off to the side, her long brown hair pulled back with a shiny ribbon. I prayed that she was the one who’d made that fried chicken dish, because if she was, I’d marry her on the spot. Well, God answered my prayer and we’ve been married for 43 years now. Her hair’s gone white, but she’s still the bonniest lass I’ve ever seen.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Why, Ian MacKinnon, you’re about as sugary sweet as my tea, you old romantic, you.” She waved a hand at him as if to brush him away, but no one was fooled.

I found myself drawn to the two of them, like I’d known them for years instead of just an hour. Sarah asked questions about how we met, and Aiden held my hand as he recounted the same story he told my father. Sarah clearly had a romantic streak to match her husband’s and her eyes twinkled as she listened.

“And Ian tells me you’re engaged to be married. Congratulations! When is the big day?”

To my surprise, Aiden answered “in December” without hesitation.

“Oh, a Christmas bride,” she said with a contented sigh. “How lovely.”

I smiled back at her and sent a message to Aiden in my mind.
Why December? Where did that come from?

He finished his meal and offered to help clean up, but Sarah waved him away, admonishing him to sit and relax.

You remember that handfasting lasts for a year and a day? Well, you told Ranger Jim we’d wed in December last so that means we need to marry by this December, no? If you’d like to do it sooner, just say the word and I’ll find us a priest, my love.

Sarah agreed to let me help clear the table and I talked with her while we cleaned up, thinking about what Aiden had said.

The day had slipped away and the sunset painted the sky in a magnificent display of pink and purple streaks. When we walked onto their back patio, the cool, fresh air bit my cheeks. Ian made a fire in the fire pit and we settled into cushioned chairs to enjoy the view. Dahlias, foxglove and hydrangeas ringed a koi pond with a burst of color, scenting the air with their sweet perfume. A wooden bridge spanned the water, ending in a footpath of granite pavers through lush gardens. Beyond the grass, dense woods surrounded the house, with no neighbors in sight. Crickets chirping in the distance accompanied the relaxed flow of conversation as we sipped our drinks.

“I noticed you have a beautiful piano, Sarah. Do you play?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“No, Ian is the musical one in the family. He can play piano and guitar. You should play them a tune from your home country, sug.”

He grinned and jumped up, returning shortly with a guitar in hand. His voice was deep and clear as he sang:

It fell on a day, on a bonnie summer’s day,

When the sun shone bright and clearly,

That there fell oot a great dispute

Atween Argyll and Airlie.

Argyll he has mustered a thousand o’ his men,

He has marched them oot richt early;

He has marched them in by the back o’ Dunkeld,

To plunder the bonnie hoose o’ Airlie.

Lady Ogilvie she looked frae her window sae high,

And O but she grat sairly,

To see Argyll and a’ his men

Come to plunder the bonnie hoose o’ Airlie.

Sitting next to me, Aiden sang along softly. Firelight danced off the moisture in his eyes. When Ian finished the song, we all clapped and he made an elaborate bow. He started into another that he called “Scotland the Brave” and Aiden smiled, listening, but didn’t sing along.

“Come on, lad, you know this one well, I’m sure,” Ian urged, but then stopped mid-strum as Aiden gave him something of a blank look. Ian cocked his head to one side, frowning. My heart caught in my throat. “You don’t mean to tell me that you don’t know Scotland the Brave.” Ian’s voice had a slight warning to it, like he wouldn’t put up with being made fun of.

Aiden was quick to apologize. “I’m right sorry, Ian. I’d a terrible blow to the head a while back and I’ve had problems with my memory ever since, so oft times common things that I knew well before don’t come so easy to me anymore.”

Sarah made sad, fussing noises over the thought of Aiden’s injury and the toll it had taken. Ian put down the guitar, the mood lost.

I could tell Aiden felt bad, but I was surprised when he reached over and picked up the guitar, with a questioning look to Ian, who nodded his approval. Aiden settled the instrument on his lap.

“Most of the songs I remember are in Gaelic, but my Mam used to sing this one to me when I was a wean.”

Katie Beardie had a coo

Black and white aboot the mou’

Wasnae that a dainty coo?

Dance, Katie Beardie.

Katie Beardie had a wean

Widnae play oot in the rain.

Wasnae that a dainty wean?

Dance, Katie Beardie.

Katie Beardie had a cat,

Sleek and sly and unco fat.

Wasnae that a dainty cat?

Dance, Katie Beardie.

Ian laughed out loud, slapping his hand on his knee, then took the guitar from Aiden and did his own rendition of a song called “Donald, Where’s Your Troosers?” about a Scot’s preference for a kilt over pants. Ian’s eyes twinkled with merriment at the last verse:

Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw

I had no handkerchief at all

So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow

Now you can’t do that with troosers

I laughed so hard that tears ran down my cheeks by the time Ian finished, a look of pure joy and satisfaction on his face.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve sung a Scottish song for such a great audience. You make me want to play all night long.”

Sarah laid a hand gently on his arm, her head turned up slightly to the sky, which had grown thick with stars. Sparks from the fire pit flew into the air between us like dancing fireflies, bright against the night sky.

“Maybe another night, hon. I haven’t heard so much Scots tongue since we went to the MacKinnon clan gathering near on twenty years ago. But it’s getting pretty late, don’t you think? These two lovebirds probably need to get going.” She winked at me but Ian stopped, his face suddenly serious. He pinned Aiden with a look.

“Aye, you’d best get your bonnie lassie back to the school before it gets much later, lad.”

I groaned inwardly at this not-so-subtle hint that I wasn’t to be staying the night, my earlier visions of curling up next to Aiden in his bed disappearing like smoke from the fire.

Aiden met his eyes and smiled with a nod, straightening in his seat. “Aye, sir. I will.”

A connection between the two of them seemed to strengthen and I breathed a sigh of resignation. I hugged Ian and Sarah before we left, surprised at how quickly they’d become dear to me. They insisted I come back soon and I assured them I would. Aiden’s warm fingers intertwined with mine as we walked back to the cottage to retrieve my car.

“You never told me you could play the guitar,” I said.

“You never asked.”

I raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “What else haven’t you told me?”

He smirked and replied, “What else haven’t you asked?”

I smacked him on the arm and mumbled “smartass,” pulling ahead of him on the path. He increased his stride and easily caught up, grabbing my hand and pulling me around to face him.

“Such foul language shouldn’t come from a lovely mouth like yours.” He drew me close and I could feel his warm breath against my face in the cool night air.

Give me that lovely wee mouth.

His lips toyed with mine, nibbling, tasting, teasing. I pressed against him, wanting more. Needing more. Waves of longing ran down the length of my back and curled between my legs, twisting into a tight knot. Knowing he’d received clear instructions to take me home, I broke away from him, panting, and resumed walking toward the car.

“I don’t know how we’re going to plan a wedding by December,” I said, the desire to rip his clothes off nearly eating me alive. “I wish everyone knew that we’re already married. I don’t want to have to pretend and I don’t want to have to go back to the dorm. I hate leaving you.” He offered once again to find a priest to take care of it.

I stopped in the middle of the path, thunderstruck.

“What is it, lass?”

“Ranger Jim’s not the only person in the world who knows we’re married. There’s one more. Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.” I grabbed his hand and practically ran the rest of the way, trying to think of what I’d say to him once we got there.

Chapter 16

Stay here and don’t say anything until I tell you, okay? We don’t want to give him a heart attack, at least not here in the waiting room.

Aiden’s eyes told me he’d understood. He sat down and began thumbing through a magazine, though I could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders that he was nervous about this meeting. He’d asked if I thought this was a good idea on the drive over, but I told him Father O’Malley was the one person I trusted to keep our secret.

I walked up to the counter and asked the nurse if the hospital chaplain was in. She made a phone call and then nodded, her face a practiced mask of compassion and calm.

“Yes, he is available. He’ll be down in a few minutes.” She started to pull out some paperwork for me to fill out, but I assured her it was just a social call. She looked at me doubtfully, her eyes flickering over to Aiden, who looked like he was going to be sick. She shrugged and set the paperwork aside, no longer interested.

I paced nervously in the waiting room until an eyebrow from Aiden made me drop into a chair, fidgeting.

Are you sure you want to do this?
he asked and I gave him a barely perceptible nod, hoping no one would see. He sighed and turned back to his magazine, though I knew he wasn’t reading it. I vividly remembered sitting in this very room waiting for the priest on that awful night when I’d kissed Ravi and felt like the world was falling apart around me. The memory made my stomach turn over.

“Lindsey?” Father O’Malley’s voice made me jump in my seat, since I hadn’t seen him come in. A flood of emotions poured over me at the sight of his kind smile. He held out both hands to me in greeting. “It’s wonderful to see you again. How are you doing?”