Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) (14 page)

Elena was alone at breakfast the next morning. The coffee and teakettle were both hot, and there was fresh bread on the table, but the house was deserted. She steeped a cup of green tea and cut a thick slice of bread, contemplating her plan for the day. She was dressed for industry, not romance, in jeans and a blue sweater, her hair hanging down her back in a long plait.

Faolan needed to find information that would help him break the curse, so she planned to try to organize the books in the library to make it easier for him to look through them. She could also do research on the Internet, if she could only figure out what to look for. That would be her first avenue of attack: identifying search terms, either digital or paper-based.

She carried her breakfast into the library and started to Google. She would need to ask Faolan if his father was a Druid, since much of his story seemed to coincide with what little she knew about the ancient practice. As long as she was online, she ordered a couple of Gaelic, Celtic, and Scots reference books to help with the search.

She took all the English language books to one wall of shelves and began the slow process of sorting them according to topic. There were hundreds of books to sort through. She picked up one book after the other, trying to give it a one or two word subject and then placed it in the corresponding stack. She had loosely arranged all of the books by lunchtime. After lunch, she would see what she could do with the ones she couldn’t read.

When she turned from the shelves, she was surprised to find Faolan standing in the doorway watching her. Her focus had been so intense that she had no idea how long he had been there.

“Good morning,” she smiled.

He seemed surprised by her pleasant tone but smiled and returned her greeting. “Good morrow, lass.”

“I was just going to have some lunch. Will you join me?” she asked.

“May I take you to lunch instead?” he replied rather formally.

That surprised her. “Why? Shouldn’t we be looking for answers?”

“Aye, lass, we will be looking for different answers.”

Elena agreed to go, curious as to what they might be seeking outside these walls. She begged a few minutes to change her clothes, but Faolan again surprised her.

“Nay, lass, wear what you have on. ‘Tis how I first saw you.”

He remembered this blue sweater? She didn’t know he’d paid such close attention. The thought pleased her more than it should have. She realized her days with Faolan were numbered. Unlike most budding relationships, this one had a definite expiration date and strict parameters. She knew his code of honor would not allow him to commit to her. And without a commitment, he was unwilling to take their relationship any further.

With a heavy heart, she acknowledged, if only to herself, that he was her one true love. She couldn’t say which exact moment she became sure of her feelings, but she was. She could choose to protect her heart and leave today, but she would stay for the six months. If all he had to give
was friendship, then she would be his friend.

Elena had thought a lot about the situation last night and again this morning while she was sorting books. Sometimes in practicing law, you faced impossible situations with two divergent solutions. Following one path would lead to a legal solution, and it was the solution that almost always applied. Unfortunately, though, the legal solution didn’t always equate to an ethical solution. An ethical solution required the courage to do what was morally right. At the conclusion of the six-month provision, Worthington would no longer have any claim to this land; it would legally belong to Elena.

There was only one moral solution to her dilemma. In six months, she would return the land to Faolan. She’d already called Mr. Burns and given instructions to draw up her will. Mr. Burns was also researching the best ways to protect this land under Scottish land laws and restore the rights to Faolan and his future family.

****

They had lunch at a small café in Fairth where they drew many speculative glances and became the subject of much gossip, no doubt. There was nothing to indicate they were a couple, just a man and a woman sharing a meal. Yet, she was sure anyone who knew human nature would take one look at her face and know she was in love.

Elena had a large salad, and Faolan opted for a bowl of thick chowder. They kept the talk casual since anything they said might be overheard. They spoke of repairs to the house and plans for a garden. Faolan asked if she would raise farm animals, but Elena demurred. She was hesitant to agree to anything that would require a long-term commitment. She asked about places to purchase drapes and rugs, and he promised to take her there after their errand. Overall, a completely normal and casual lunch between friends, and Elena treasured every minute of it.

It turned out their errand was just on the outskirts of Fairth, or rather around Fairth. Faolan believed he had located and removed another tracking device on her Rover and wanted to take a ride to see if anyone followed them. As they drove around, he told her stories of the area, how it had changed over time, and more importantly how it had stayed the same.

Their last stop was at a small sandstone building near the town square. There were no signs, save a small note taped to the door that invited them to enter. They did, and a little bell announced their arrival. The shop’s watchdog raced out, barking ferociously, letting them know this store was hers.

“Ooh, hi, beautiful,” Elena said as she squatted down to pay homage to the Yorkshire Terrier, who was not much bigger than a tea pot. The little dog sniffed regally and was mollified since Elena obviously recognized who was in charge. She then pranced over to Faolan, clearly swooning and rolled over onto her back, paws in the air, baring her chest for him to pet.
I know how she feels
, Elena thought
.

“Hello, Hussy,” Faolan said, laughing.

“Faolan—” Elena gasped “—that’s not nice!”

“Aye, lass, that’s her nature, and that’s her name,” said a soft burr from the doorway leading to the back of the shop. Elena smiled at the tiny, wizened woman who continued, “Faolan knows her nature, just as she knows his.”

Faolan picked the old woman up in a bear hug. “Brigid, it’s good to see you! Still as ornery as the divil, I see!”

“Aye, and I see you finally found your light,” she replied completely apropos of nothing.

She looked like a child’s toy in his arms, and Elena was afraid Faolan might break her.

Setting the old woman carefully on her feet, Faolan bowed grandly, and said, “Let me introduce you to your new neighbor. This is Miss Elena MacFarland, recently of America, and now Mistress of the Gailtry Farm.

“Elena, this is Brigid. She will provide you with the rugs you need and window coverings too, if you still desire.”

“Come, dear. We will have tea,” Brigid declared, grabbing Elena’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip and ushering them into a sitting room filled with wool rugs. She seated them in large wing backed chairs covered in tweed and set about making tea. Hussy followed and splayed herself across Faolan’s foot, content to be touching him.
Lucky dog.

When the tea was ready, Brigid handed Elena the cup and directed her to twirl the contents three times in a clockwise direction before drinking, “And mind you drink it all, lass,” she admonished.

Faolan started to say something, but Brigid cut across him, using words Elena couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, it caused him to look at Elena thoughtfully, before shaking his head and answering Brigid in the same language. They argued back and forth for a while, switching interchangeably between what she assumed was Scots and Gaelic. She could understand neither.

Elena diligently drank her tea while she looked around the overcrowded shop. The assortment of rugs displayed around the room was impressive. There were hundreds
from which to choose. Some were simple throw rugs while others were enormous and suitable for an entire room. Tapestries hung from the walls and rafters, in case your castle was drafty. Since she didn’t own a castle, Elena narrowed her choices to the smaller rugs and hurried to finish her tea so she could start looking through the shop.

Faolan was listening intently to whatever it was Brigid was telling him, but he didn’t seem to share her opinion; his scowl deepened. As Elena took her final swallow, Brigid snatched the cup from her hands before she even lowered it from her lips. She stared into it, moving her lips, tilting her head like a bird, contemplating her worm.

Then Brigid’s nimble face stretched into a grin. She stood, thanked them for coming, and walked briskly toward the front door. Belatedly, Faolan and Elena jumped to their feet and followed. Elena looked a question at Faolan, but he just shrugged and hurried to catch up.

At the open door, Brigid grabbed Faolan’s arm and whispered something Elena couldn’t understand. Then speaking slowly, and with far less of a brogue than she’d previously used, said to him, “You will pick me up two mornings hence. Bring Lilly’s truck. Faolan, hear me now, and do not stray from my direction. Follow your light.” Then she stepped back and closed the door on their startled faces.

Back in the Rover, Elena looked at Faolan and asked, “What was that all about?”

Faolan didn’t answer her; he seemed lost in thought. Elena kept the rest of her questions to herself, and they drove home in a companionable silence. The house was dark and the yard empty when they arrived, and Faolan swore lightly under his breath.

“Och, lass, I am sorry, I was supposed to bring home something for your dinner tonight; Red and Lilly will be out for the evening. Let me take you back to town.”

“Nay, lad,” Elena said seriously in her best imitation of a Scottish brogue. “I’ll be
makin’ us omelets and such for dinner then.” Her attempt was so poor that Faolan just looked at her for a second before he roared with laughter, his eyes sparkling. Elena started laughing too, and they just barely contained themselves, avoiding breaking into that near hysteria that had consumed them previously.

As Elena thought of that night, she thought about what had followed their laughter. She turned away, simultaneously embarrassed by her behavior and saddened at her loss. Faolan seemed to know what she was thinking. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head and then stepped away, saying, “I’ll get the fires going.”

Elena wasn’t offended when he stepped away so quickly. She’d felt his reaction to her as he’d held her close. After dinner, they started on the books together, and he’d shown her how to distinguish between the different languages. Once she’d looked at a few examples, she was accurate with her sorting. The evening passed companionably, if quietly; they were both preoccupied. He’d been distracted ever since their visit to Brigid. Elena was thinking about his reaction to her, knowing that no matter what he said to her, he wasn’t indifferent. She worried about the complicated situation.

Elena yawned and stretched. It was time for bed, but she hesitated, knowing that as soon as she left the room, Faolan would go into the night. He stood with her.

“Elena, let me hold you,” he asked in a pleading voice. His face was bleak, as if there was no hope left in the world.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close, savoring his spicy male scent, yearning to feel his skin against hers.

“You know I canna be with you the way you want, but ‘tis not in my power to be away from you. You have captured my heart. You are the keeper of my soul. Whatever is mine is yours, but for the one thing for which you have asked. I canna live with myself and I canna live without you.” He reached for her plait of hair and loosened it, letting cascades of black curls spill over his hands and her shoulders.

Elena looked up into his eyes and saw a tormented man. “Come lay with me, Faolan. I won’t ask for more. Come lay beside me and hold me. Let me fall asleep in your arms.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her to her room. Elena laughed and told him she needed a few personal moments, and suggested he pour drinks and
stir the fire.

She went into the bathroom and prepared for bed as usual. She wore her soft flannel drawstring pajama bottoms and a loose sleep t-shirt. She was determined she would not try to tempt him in any way tonight. He truly was a man torn between desire and duty. She would not torment him further.

Once she was washed and pajama’d, she came back out with her brush. She always brushed her hair each night before bed or else she would never get it untangled in the morning. She sat on the bed and began brushing while Faolan stared into the fire. He came to sit beside her and took the brush from her hand. Lifting her heavy hair in his hand, he brushed back from her face, and then he swept it up from underneath. She let him brush far longer than she would have herself, just to enjoy the intimacy.
Heavenly.

When he finished, he kissed her softly on the top of her head. She got under the covers and slid over to the opposite side of the big bed, giving him all the space he needed. Elena longed to hold him, kiss him, and tell him everything was going to be all right. Instead, she curled onto her side, facing away from him, and waited to follow his lead. Faolan sighed deeply and lay down beside her, on top of the covers. He buried his face in her hair, his hand rested lightly on her hip, and he whispered, “Sleep well, my love.”