Page 51 of Refuge for Ailsa

There was a commotion in the next room and into view came a shorter, wider version of Ailsa. The woman’s blazing red hair was probably four feet long, and she’d braided it and pulled the braid over her shoulder to run down her left side. She was beaming, but there they were?Ailsa’s eyes. That told him exactly where they’d come from. “Oh, ye must be Tavish! Come here, laddie, and let me hug ye.” Tavish wasn’t accustomed to being hugged by people he didn’t know, and yet when she wrapped her arms around him, it felt just like he was being hugged by Ailsa. “Come in, come in! Welcome to our home. Magnus, our guest is here.”

Instead of a man, the first person to bound through the doorway was Maureen, and she practically leaped into Tavish’s arms, then planted a big kiss on his cheek. “Hi, big brother!”

“Hi, sugar.” Tavish squeezed her tightly. One thing was certain?Maureen had always been there for him, even when she was little. “Where’s Donovan?”

“Right here. Hey, man, how are ya?” The younger MacDougal man gave Tavish a firm handshake. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too. You guys doin’ okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Your sister is a dream come true.”

Tavish snickered. “If she’s not, you let me know and I’ll straighten her out.”

“And I bet you could too,” Ailsa’s brother said with a wink.

A large older man stepped into view and reached for the younger one’s hand. “Welcome, Tavish! I heard you were coming. Come on out here in the den and have a seat. Want something to drink?”

“Yes, sir. That would be great. Just a soda.”

“Sure you don’t want a beer?”

Donovan leaned toward Tavish. “Say yes to beer.”

“Uh, okay, yes to beer.”

“I make my own. Hope you enjoy it. It’s kind of a little hobby of mine.”

Tavish was surprised. Ailsa hadn’t shared that little bit of info with him. “No kidding? That sounds like fun. Never thought about it before.”

“I started researching Scottish beers and came up with a few that are pretty authentic.” Tavish followed Magnus and Donovan, never looking back at Ailsa. He had a feeling she wouldn’t mind.

By the time dinner was served, Tavish had spent thirty minutes with Donovan and Magnus in the den, and they’d laughed and swapped fishing stories. Tavish was pleasantly surprised?Magnus’ beer was very good, and he decided if the man offered him a bottle or two, he’d gladly take it.

“Let’s all have a seat,” Maeve instructed. Based on the chair Donovan took, it was obvious which one was supposed to be for Tavish. “There ye go, young man,” she said as he sat down. When everyone was seated, Maeve said, “Welcome to the MacDougal table. Better food and ale ye’ll find nowhere else. And now, it’s time to be thankful for what we’re about to receive. The hands that cook will ask for blessing.” Tavish could feel Ailsa’s hand reaching for his, and when he took it, she squeezed?hard.I think that’s supposed to mean something, he told himself.

It didn’t take long to find out what it was. “Oh, gracious, loving, and heavenly Lord of all, our Father and protector, provider and defender, and master of the holy Catholic church, we praise and thank ye today for the bounty set before us. Let us not…” What commenced from that point was a prayer that lasted for a full five minutes. The back of Tavish’s neck started to ache, and he wanted to sneak a peek at Ailsa, but he didn’t dare. If he got caught, that would seem disrespectful, and that was something he couldn’t risk, so he just sat there, terrified he’d fall asleep and land face-first in the mashed potato bowl. When she said something about “the nourishment from the bosom of the land given by ye,” Tavish thought about the night before and how he and Ailsa had wrapped themselves up in each other, joining in physical bliss over and over. And those tits…Jesus, Stewart, could you be any more disrespectful? Sitting here thinking about Ailsa’s tits while her mother is praying. But they are amazing tits. Amazing. Stop it. Right now.

It seemed like forever before Maeve finally said, “And all God’s people said?”

“Amen!” rang from around the table. It was an enthusiastic amen, and Tavish figured it was more relief than agreement.

“That was lovely, Mrs.MacDougal,” Tavish thought to say.

“Ah, but I heared ye stomach grumblin’, laddie. No blowin’ smoke up me skirts now.”

“I’m not, Mrs.MacDougal. It really was nice.”

“Ah, well, thanks. And I’m not Mrs.MacDougal. I’m just plain ol’ Maeve to ye.”

“Then it really was nice, plain old Maeve,” Tavish said with a chuckle.

“This one is funny,” Maeve said with a chortle. “I like the funny ones. So, Tavish, do ye have a place here in town?”

“Well, yes and no. I have an apartment here in Danville, but I also have a house out in the country between here and the lake.”

“A house! Oh, my. What kinna house would it be?”

“It’s an old farmhouse. Kinda big. Wraparound porch on one end, big double doors on the front, beautiful staircase. It’ll be nice when I get it finished.” Tavish waited. Somebody was sure to tell him how stupid his purchase had been.

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