Page 19 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

“Good. Now that we all know each other well enough, we best be on with it.” Sarinda beamed at Joanna while nodding at Miss Lydia. “Miss Lydia and I have a full day planned for your group of ladies. Don’t we, Miss Lydia?”

“Absolutely!” Miss Lydia took Joanna’s hand, pumped it up and down briefly, then held on tight, patting the back of it as though consoling an ailing friend. “Wool cardin’. Spinnin’. Batchin’ up the dye out of local plants. Weavin’ the material in a particular pattern. Just about every step they’d be interested in except for shearin’ the sheep.” Miss Lydia glanced over at Grant and smiled while still patting Joanna’s hand. “And Grant’s going to see to it that you have a fine day at Highland Life and Legends while we’re making expert cloth makers out of your ladies. He tells us the only time you’ve really been here at the park is when you’re working. High time you discovered the more relaxing side to the sights we have here.”

Joanna extricated her hand from Miss Lydia’s grasp and folded her arms across her waist, her coffee cup hugged against her middle. She faced Grant, aiming her sunglasses at him again with disturbing accuracy as though centering him in her sights.

“Really,” she said in a cold, deadly tone.

I wish she’d remove those damn glasses. ’Tis like looking down the barrel of a gun.Grant nodded, bracing himself for the backlash that Joanna’s tone warned was imminent. “Aye. ’Twas quite the surprise t’myself as well.Máthairand Mistress Lydia took it upon themselves t’plan this fine day.” It might be cowardly, but at least now Joanna would ken that he had nothin’ at all to do with whatever the women had planned. He’d choose cowardice every time when it came to the plottin’ of women who knew him entirely too well.

Joanna didn’t acknowledge Grant’s confession or if she did, her reaction was hidden by the impenetrable black plastic of her huge sunglasses. She turned back to Sarinda. “I really can’t let you accept full responsibility for this bunch, Mrs. MacDara. Not for an entire day of their tour.” She jerked her head toward the chattering seniors, who were gradually inching closer so they wouldn’t miss a single tidbit of the conversation. “I know you handled them yesterday, but I don’t think you realize what you’re getting into, taking them today. They’re a real…handful.”

“Call me Sarinda, child,” Grant’s mother insisted while sparing a knowing glance first at Miss Lydia and then at Grant. “And I’ve put the fear o’ the gods and the sting of m’switch into four boys that I raised to men and one girl child that I’m still molding into a strong young woman. I think I can handle seven mature ladies hell-bent on havin’ a fine time afore they go to their graves.”

Grant inwardly groaned, but bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent. ’Twas too damn dangerous to speak with this many women about. He’d ne’er survive it.

Sarinda grinned. “ ’Tis all settled then. Off wi’ ye now.” She stepped forward and poked a finger into the center of Grant’s chest. “Take yer lady o’er to a fine breakfast at the inn. Mabel’s got a fresh batch ofparritchmade and some hot bannocks just waitin’ to be buttered and smothered with Master Ted’s fresh clover honey. He had an early batch this spring and saw fit t’give it to us.”

“Aye,Máthair.” Grant nodded obediently and held out his hand to Joanna. “Come, lass. Let us be about the day.”And escape afore these plotting females think of any other ways to torment us,he added to himself.

Joanna turned without a word, ignored Grant’s hand, and took off at a brisk pace across the round cobblestoned meeting area that served as the hub for all the streets and avenues at the front gates of the park.

“Ye best hurry and catch her, boy. Appears she’s as sweet as yerself when she’s no’ had enough sleep.” Sarinda shooed her son away with both hands as she joined Miss Lydia and the other ladies.

Aye, we’re a match all right.A few broad strides easily brought Grant to Joanna’s side. As they walked, the silence between them grew heavy, taking on a life all its own. Grant rolled his shoulders against the prickling sense of doom settling all around them.

“Are ye vexed wi’ me for some reason?” He didna wish t’ask the question, but battles were easier when faced head on—even so, he swallowed hard and braced himself for whatever she answered. He couldna imagine what he’d done wrong, but ye ne’er knew for certain with women—or at least that’s what his newly married brother Alec had told him.

Joanna remained silent. She picked up her pace and turned up the short brick-covered street housing all the food and concession establishments at the park.

“So yer just tired then?” Grant forced himself to keep his voice calm, frustration building as Joanna continued to ignore him. Why the hell was she no’ talkin’ to him? “Are ye a wee bit hungry? Is that the problem, or have ye merely not had enough of that godforsaken muckwater ye fancy so much?” He hadna been around the woman first thing in the mornin’ that much. Usually, their paths didna cross until well into Joanna’s day. She’d seemed fine yesterday morning, but mayhap today was different since she’d had no sleep. Or maybe she was a wee beastie at the start of the day and yesterday morning’s decent mood had been a strange rarity. He could live with that. His little sister, Esme, was just the same.

“It’s coffee. Remember? Not godforsaken muckwater just because you don’t like it.”

Thank the gods. The woman speaks!“Aye, I remember.” Grant held open the heavy oak door to the inn. “And ye’ve got the right of it. I canna stomach the stuff, but Alec’s wife calls coffee the black nectar of the gods.”

“I’m definitely on the black nectar of the gods’ team.” Joanna yawned and selected a corner booth. She slid into the seat, swooped her sunglasses off, and tossed them to the table. She covered her face with both hands and massaged the inner corners of her eyes with her fingertips.

Ahh…his sweet lady was bone-tired. That was it. The poor lass’s red-rimmed eyes with bluish shadows smudged beneath gave testament to her lack of sleep. No wonder she’d worn the dark glasses. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I apologize for yer weariness, but…” He paused and lightly traced slow, lazy circles across the silky back of her hand. “In my mind, ’twas well worth it.”

Joanna managed a faint smile. “Itwasworth being a bit drag-assy for a day.” Her gaze dropped to the table, but not before Grant spotted something quite troubling in her eyes. “I’m just not so sure it was worth all the other repercussions.” She gently eased her hand out from under his, then leaned back on the bench and stared down at her lap.

“What other ‘repercussions’?”

“I shouldn’t have let it happen. None of it. Not the woods and definitely not my room. There’s too much at stake here.” Joanna waved down the girl prepping the heavy wooden tables of the dining room with roughly woven napkins, wooden platters, and heavy rustic silverware. She held up her travel mug. “Could I have a refill on coffee, please? Black. Strongest you’ve got.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The waitress, dressed as a Highland bar wench, hurried back to the kitchen.

“What the hell are ye sayin’?” Grant cleared his throat and lowered his voice as a small group of early-morning tourists filed into the restaurant. “What repercussions?”

“Personal and professional repercussions,” Joanna said in a whispered hiss as the waitress appeared out of nowhere with her coffee.

“Can I bring you a scone, someparritch,or something else for your breakfast?” The young waitress smiled at Joanna but her gaze kept darting over to Grant as she preened closer to him, arching her back and flaunting the low, rounded neckline of her long dress. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Grant?”

“Nothing for me, lass, thank ye.” Grant restrained himself from shooing the girl away. It wasn’t the waitress’s fault that Joanna had just as good as told him t’go straight t’hell.

“Just coffee for now, thanks,” Joanna added.

“Tell me what you mean.” Grant grit his teeth. When he’d left Joanna’s bed that morning, he’d felt more alive than he had since before the damned goddesses destroyed all his hopes and dreams. He’d felt lighter and filled with anticipation. Like a weight had been lifted and he’d been made whole again. Now the weight was back, bearing down and threatening to crush him.

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