Page 9 of An Allusive Love
It was a fast-paced dance, and he and Mairi were breathing hard by the end. “Shall I get ye something to drink?” he asked politely. Her freckles blended into her red cheeks as her fingers smoothed her frazzled curls.
“Aye, I’ll wait for ye away from the fire.” She nodded toward a long tree trunk laid out as a bench. It was shadowed by a small group of pines.
Brodie was pouring a sweet watered wine for Mairi and had just added a portion of whisky to his own when Kirstine approached.
“I see Mairi found ye,” she said. “She certainly has the energy for a reel.”
“And ye have the grace for it,” he answered with a smile. “I was looking for ye when she surprised me from behind. I hoped it was ye.”
“Every time I try to find ye, someone else stops me. Either a parent thanks me or Ma for help, or needs advice on a medicinal herb, or someone wants to dance.” Kirstine accepted the cup he offered. “But I’m here now.”
“And I must deliver this to Mairi.” He thought disappointment darkened her eyes, but her lips turned up when he said, “Ye’re lovely tonight.”
Her flaming hair was pulled up with a ribbon, and her lustrous red waves spilled down her back. The bonfire highlighted the streaks of gold in the long curls and the flush of her cheeks. She wore another stylish, high-waisted gown that drew his gaze to her full breasts.
“That color blue looks bonny on ye.” He wished he didn’t have to bring any refreshment to Mairi. “Is it new?”
“Aye, I made it myself from a sketch I saw in a London fashion magazine. The color matched your eyes.”
“So ye were thinking of my eyes when ye made it?” He wondered why that pleased him. “Or do ye say that all to the lads?”
“Ye ken I’m no’ a flirt like that Brodie MacNaughton. He teases all the lasses and skips away just as they hand him their heart.”
He leaned close, his nose brushing her cheek. “Perhaps one of them should chase me.”
“Och, ye’re too fast for me. Maybe Mairi could catch ye.” She gave him a wink and sauntered away.
He scowled at her retreating back as heat washed over him. Was she playing the coquette? Where was his Kirstine, and who was this new woman he’d come home to? He walked back to Mairi. She reached for the mug and pulled him down beside her.
“Thank ye, Brodie,” she gushed with a flutter of her lashes. “I’m parched.”
Sparks shot out, one close to their feet, as a log collapsed into the embers. Orange flicked and trailed into the black night sky. The crackle and pop of charred wood added to the din of voices and boisterous singing. Long shadows pirouetted against the curtain of darkened woods, like a dark puppet show lit by the moon. When Mairi broke the silence to regale him with village news, he focused on the glowing flames and let his mind wander.
On the other side of the bonfire, he watched Kirstine. She smiled at the widower, her face turned up to him. He studied her profile and realized she had an adorable nose. The man returned her smile, and Brodie’s stomach tensed. An unfamiliar feeling dropped in his chest, and his hand went there as if to wipe it away. But the little, tight ball grew.
“Are ye all right, Brodie? Do ye have a pain?” asked Mairi, concern in her eyes.
“Aye, er, I’m fine. Too much meat, I fear.” He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet. “I need to check on my grandfather. Thank ye for the dance.”
*
“I want yeto meet someone,” Brigid said, pulling Kirstine by the hand. “His family was removed when the lords closed the open pastures for their sheep. He’s back from the coast with his son.”
Kirstine laughed but resisted. Brigid was a close friend and knew her feelings about Brodie. Perhaps she’d seen her brother with another and had the same idea about competition that her own mother had. “What are ye up to? Does he need help or are ye trying to marry me off?”
“Both,” Brigid said with a grin. She waved at the tall, handsome man as he approached.
Liam MacDougal had dark red hair, light green eyes, and a sense of humor. As old as her mother, she guessed. When he smiled and asked her to dance, her reserve fell away. She liked him instantly. He was graceful for his height, and Kirstine enjoyed his company.
“I understand ye’re knowledgeable with plants and herbs. Are ye one I could call when my son gets into mischief?” Liam escorted her away from the dancers as another tune began. He towered over her, but his demeanor was mild. “While I envy his energy, the lad isna the most graceful. He’s already been stitched up more times than I have myself.”
“Aye, myself or my mother. We’re always happy to help.” Then he asked her what she enjoyed most about doctoring.
His expression of sincere interest soon had her chatting easily, and she shared the story of her first patient, a kid goat who’d cut himself on wire. She barely noticed he’d place a refreshment in her hand.
“So you stopped the bleeding, and it adopted ye?” He chuckled and refilled her cup.
“Its mother had died, so I became a surrogate.” Kirstine tried to remember the last time she’d talked about herself at such length.
