A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (7 page)

“That in yer heart I’ll always be yer wee sweet bairn, no matter how old I get.” She favored him with a broad smile.

With a nod he stepped toward the head of the table and sipped from his mug before he set it down. “That’s right, lassie.” He turned toward the antique breakfront behind him and reached for an empty plate. The chrome lid of a chafing dish clattered when he removed it. “Yer uncle Creigh will always be here for ye.” He spooned a pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate along with two chunks of salmon.

A slow smile bloomed along with the twinkle in Colleen’s eyes. “Even when I need a new dolly? ’Cause I saw one I need really, really bad.”

Creighton stilled and slowly turned to her, his dark eyebrows furrowed. “Are ye playing yer uncle?”

Colleen’s smile broadened even more and her eyes sparkled. “Like a fiddle.”

Gram exploded with laughter. “I think I know who runs this lodge, Mr. Matheson. Oh, she’s a girl after my heart.”

He finished filling his plate and took his seat. His expression was unguarded and full of warmth, a broad smile relaxing his normally unyielding features. “Please, ma’am, call me Creighton. I’m also inclined to agree with ye about this cheeky charmer here.”

His large hand took Colleen’s. “Forget the dolls. Uncle Creigh has a surprise fer ye. Actually, it’s our American guest, Paisley, who gave ye this surprise.”

“What is it?” The child’s face became animated with excitement.

Creighton sipped his coffee, forked salmon into his mouth and chewed before shaking his fork at her. “Two of the prettiest foals ye’ve ever seen. One colt and one filly.”

Colleen gasped. “Really? Heather Mist had her babies?”

“Aye, she did, and Paisley took care of her. She kept her safe.” His warm gaze swept over Paisley, causing all her feminine parts to sit up and take notice. Her nipples noticed him more than necessary, and her toes curled with the effect he had on her.

“When can I see them, Uncle Creigh?”

“I’ll take ye out to the stable after breakfast if yer da says ’tis okay.” He forked in more salmon and eggs.

Bryce pointed to her plate. “Sounds like ye better eat up, luv.”

“Did Ronan eat already?” Creighton reached for a slice of toast.

“Aye. Cook has a leaky faucet in the kitchen, so he’s fixing it.” Bryce stood and went to the warmers for seconds. “Paisley, I didna ken ye were knowledgeable with animals.”

Creighton looked at her again and smiled. “Aye. She’s a veterinary’s assistant. Diploma and everything. Ye should see how she handles animals. ’Tis a wonderment.”

“Uncle Creigh, do I get to name them?”

He tilted his dark head. “Aye, the colt, ye may. The filly’s already been named. I filled the registration papers out early this morning after we came in from the stables, shortly before dawn kissed the Scottish Highlands.”

Colleen crawled from her seat onto Creighton’s lap, her eyes wide with excitement. “What did ye name her?”

Another kiss was pressed to the child’s curls as Creighton’s gaze locked on Paisley. “I gave her a verra special name … Paisley Dawn.”

For a few moments they stared at each other. For her, the background noises in the dining room and kitchen faded to a dull buzz. He’d named the filly in her honor. The foal he’d claimed was the color of her blonde hair. Golden, he’d called it. His tender act touched her soul and brought forth both joyful and heartrending emotions. After all, she’d only be here a few days. Her life and her fiancé were back in Virginia.

Gram’s hand covered hers. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing, sweet pea? Now when we go home, a piece of you will stay here.”

Creighton’s open expression morphed into a scowl. His dark eyebrows formed a deep V and his full lips tightened into a thin line of displeasure. What had caused the change? Gram’s remark about their going home? Why would their leaving matter?

“Creighton?” She pushed his name from her lips.

He shook his head once, sat Colleen back in her seat, and turned his attentions on the other guests.

“Well, well.” Gram inclined her head and whispered. “Suddenly his aura turned a swirling purple and black. Poor soul must be upset.” Gram pursed her lips and winked like the conniver she was. The truth was she was more than an eccentric old woman for she possessed powers they never talked about, powers Paisley accepted as part of her undisclosed Wiccan nature.

After breakfast, Gram returned to her room to lie down with a book. Paisley doubted her grandmother read one page before she fell asleep. After Paisley checked her email and posted to her blog, she put on her coat and headed outside for some exercise. She was eager to check on the horse and foals.

The sun shone brightly and the world seemed calm after the wrath of the storm during the night. She breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of cold, crisp air filling her lungs. Scotland. She was in Scotland, in the Scottish Highlands. How marvelous. She did a slow turn on the gravel driveway to take in her surroundings. There was such beauty here.

The lodge was described on the Internet as an ancient castle overlooking the cliffs of Mathe Bay. It was situated within a medieval hunting park with many streams and hills. The four-storied stone structure boasted turrets and windows of many sizes and shapes. Memories of years gone by floated over her like a warm breath, and she cursed herself for her fancifulness. Her imagination had always been whimsical, too otherworldly. Every time she thought she had
control of her daydreaming nature, something beautiful like this castle stirred it up again.

Determined to put all that aside, she strode to the stables. After all, wasn’t it bad enough she could talk to animals? Did she also have to believe she could sense the past?

She yanked open the barn door Creighton had used last night and came face-to-face with the sexy Scot. “Oh!” She shoved her glasses to the bridge of her nose. He was so darn handsome. Why couldn’t she ignore that fact?

“I thought ye were Colleen. I heard someone coming.”

“I wanted to check on Heather Mist and the foals.” Shyness suddenly crept into her soul.

He stepped back and waved his hand for her to enter. “By all means. They seem well after yer expert care.”

The mare raised her head.
You came back
.

Yes, I wanted to see how you are doing. Are you feeling okay? Are the foals nursing?

The mare nodded her head and blew from her nose.

Creighton’s dark eyes watched her, and Paisley tried not to react to his close scrutiny. She examined the animals while the feminine parts of her dwelt on the massive man in the kilt. Colleen and Bryce entered the stable, bringing a different kind of excitement. While Creighton introduced the foals to the exuberant child, Paisley stepped outside to walk to the moat.

She’d only made it a few steps when her name being called raised goose bumps. Oh, that man’s deep voice.

She turned and her heart stuttered at the sight of him. “Y … yes?”

Creighton leaned a broad shoulder against the open doorway. His arms were crossed, emphasizing his large biceps. “I was wondering, do ye ride? I could saddle two horses and show ye some of the countryside.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “Scots are partial to their land.”

What a sight he made in his kilt. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Minutes later, they rode through the woods behind the lodge, the coldness of bare trees interspersed with the continual warm protection of various pines. Rabbits hopped out of the horses’ way and squirrels chattered over their intrusion.

“Thank you for asking me to go for a ride. This is glorious. I love the wildness of the land. You’re showing me a part of Scotland I’d never get to see otherwise.”

Creighton rode his horse as if he were a part of the animal. His wide smile glinted in the sunlight. “Ye are most welcome. One day, we’ll ride farther into the Highlands. I’ll show ye a
waterfall and the location of an ancient witches’ coven.”

She squinted into the sunlight when she glanced at him. “Do you believe in witches?”

“Aye. Spirits are everywhere. If ye are still, and empty yer mind, ye might feel them. If yer lucky enough, ye might hear them whisper or warn ye.” His dark eyes bore into hers as if she were the only other person in the world. As if she really mattered. As if he had all the time in the world to spend with her and valued every moment of it.

A shudder skittered through her. What was she to make of a man like this? They rode over hills, around large rock formations and through stony streams, while he told her stories of his clan and his future plans for the lodge. Creighton was a very confident person, devoted to his family and ambitious with his strategies for making their family business more profitable. More important, he asked her thoughts. It was a heady experience.

After their ride, both rubbed down their mounts, talking as they groomed the animals. The ride had obviously relaxed Creighton. He seemed in good spirits, warm and open. When they walked back to the house, his hand went to the small of her back and she enjoyed his touch.

“I have work to do this afternoon. If ye need me, I’ll be in me office across the hall from the stairway. What will ye do, lassie?”

She palmed a yawn. “I might take a nap or read.”

“Ye are more than welcome to any books I have in me office.”

“Thanks. You enjoy reading? What kind of books do you like? Thrillers? Political intrigue?” She pushed her glasses farther up her nose.

“I’m more of a romantic. I prefer poetry and history.” He opened the door for her to pass through. At the bottom of the stairway, he stopped and cupped her cheek. “Enjoy yer nap, Paisley. I fear ye suffer from jet lag. Maybe the ride was too much for ye.”

“No. Not at all. Have a good afternoon working.”

His thumb slowly stroked the corner of her mouth, his gaze focused on her, the golden flecks in his eyes growing more pronounced. Time seemed to stand still, even as the large grandfather clock in the hallway ticked away every second. She had the greatest urge to move her head slightly so he’d touch her lips. Which, of course, was the silliest thing. She turned and hurried up the steps.

* * *

Although Gram was somewhat perkier the next morning, she was still pale. “That little Colleen’s a pistol, isn’t she? The child snuggled up to me to watch movies last night as if we’d known each other forever.” She glanced at Paisley. “Gave me an idea of how wonderful it’ll be when you have a baby.”

Paisley slipped on her navy suit jacket and shrugged until the shoulders felt right. “Alex doesn’t want children. He feels they’ll interfere with my career.”

Gram stood in front of her and pinned the piece of tartan, from the wreath to the breast pocket of Paisley’s jacket. “How do you feel about that? You’ve always talked about having babies.”

“I figure once we’re married, I’ll change his mind.”

Her grandmother’s wrinkled hand patted Paisley’s cheek. “Oh sweet pea, what kind of father will he make if he doesn’t want the child? I wish you’d reconsider this marriage of convenience because, believe you me, every part of this union will be at
his
convenience. Never yours.” She picked up Paisley’s hairbrush and made a motion for her to sit on the chair. Gram’s brushing her hair while they talked was an old ritual. “Now Creighton, he’s a different kind of man altogether.”

“We’ll only be here a short while, Gram. Don’t go wild with your imaginings.”

“One never knows. Did I tell you I love his aura?”

Paisley rolled her eyes.

“Last night while we watched old cowboy movies, he observed you. Couldn’t you feel his heated gaze? He looked at you like you were the last drumstick in the box and he was a starving man.” She sighed in that dreamy way she had. “Oh, sweet pea, if I could handpick a man for you—”

“Stop. These are wasted thoughts. Besides, Alex knows what I am. Creighton doesn’t. While Alex took the news of my gift with grace, this man you think is so perfect might not. He might reject me.” She blinked away the stinging of tears as she pushed away the agony of her parents’ rejection and the humiliation of the taunts of her school classmates.

* * *

In the Land Rover on the way to the funeral, Paisley watched Gram out of the corner of her eye.
Even with a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, she seemed tired and pale. Perhaps it was the black suit she wore for the memorial service; Gram usually wore bright colors. Once the services were over, she’d suggest her grandmother take a nap before her meeting with Angus Iverson’s attorney and the reading of the will.

Ronan drove the SUV to the church with Bryce in the front and Fiona in the back, with Gram and Paisley. “Creighton drove our cousins to the kirk, or church, earlier.” Ronan glanced over his shoulder at Gram. “Mrs. Munro, are ye warm enough? If ye aren’t, you know Bryce could cover ye with his plaid. But then ye’d be his. Legends have it that once a Scot covers a lass with his plaid, his intentions are spoken.”

Paisley recalled the enveloping warmth of Creighton’s plaid when he wrapped it around her the other night. Surely he hadn’t meant … She shifted her shoulders. Really, how silly was
that
. Her and Creighton. Why, they’d just met. Sure, he was handsome and virile and a host of other things she didn’t want to think about, but he was also Scottish and she American. Her time here would be too short to really get acquainted with the man … although, during their time in the stables with Heather Mist, they’d talked and laughed and shared a deep connection as they watched the miracle of birth.

Naming the filly for her had to be the greatest gift she’d ever received from a man. Alex didn’t believe in gifts. She rubbed her hand across her forehead, willing away the headache that pounded behind her eyes whenever she compared Alex to Creighton. For each time she indulged in that mental evaluation, Creighton rose head and shoulders above her fiancé.

“I’m plenty warm enough, Ronan.” Humor tinged her grandmother’s voice. “Besides, if Bryce were to claim me as his woman, it would be his funeral you’d be attending next. And it would take the undertaker three days to wipe the smile from your brother’s face.”

The two men laughed and shook their heads, no doubt enjoying Gram’s bawdy sense of humor. Seeing Gram’s familiar spark pleased Paisley; she’d been lethargic most of the morning.