Sadie's Highlander Page 7

  “Alec Danann MacDara!” Entering the kitchen just in time to hear Alec’s question, Sarinda cuffed her son across the back of the head. “That’s no’ a question a gentleman asks a lady.” Sarinda seated herself opposite Sadie, shot a dirty look in her son’s direction, and then leaned across the table with an apologetic smile and an extended hand. “Please dinna hold my son’s words against him. He oft forgets to think his words through afore he opens his mouth and spews them out. I’m Sarinda, the silly boy’s mother, and ’tis my pleasure t’meet ye.”

  Sadie stole a glance at Alec, pressing her lips tightly together, but not before a soft, snorting chuckle escaped. She lightly cleared her throat as she took Sarinda’s hand with a smile. “I’m Sadie, and it’s good to meet you too.”

  Embarrassment flushed hot through him. What the hell had he been thinkin’ when he’d proposed their first meal together should be with his family?

  “Forgive me.” He dipped his chin at Sadie. “I meant no insult or disrespect.” But dammit t’hell, I have good reason to ask. Filling his own bowl, he avoided Sadie’s gaze. “It just seems that every damn woman in this century is no’ happy unless she looks like a starved waif just off the ships after the Highland clearances. I fail to understand why they wish to look like nothin’ more than skin-covered bones.”

  Sadie frowned as she scooped up a spoonful of the steaming creaminess, pursed her lips, and blew on it. She stared at the fluffy dumpling balanced in her spoon, then shifted her attention to Alec, bitterness reflecting in the depths of her dark eyes. “It’s the curse of society’s idea of the ‘beautiful’ woman. Everywhere you look—magazines, television, movies, internet—females are blasted with unrealistic images that are labeled as perfection and we’re bullied and shamed if we don’t mimic—or at least attempt to look like—all that photoshopped bullshit.”

  She popped the dumpling in her mouth and licked her spoon clean with a shrug of one shoulder. “I’ve never fit that bill and I gave up trying a long time ago.” She patted her curvy hip. “I like to eat. I know I’m a big girl and extra curvy, but I’m healthy, and I’ll be damned if I make myself miserable by living on celery, carrot sticks, and distilled water.”

  “Well stated, m’dear!” Sarinda raised her glass with a pleased nod.

  “Yer a lovely woman and there’s no’ a thing about ye that should be changed.” Alec reached across the table and rested his fingertips lightly on the back of Sadie’s hand. The soft silkiness of her skin didna escape him. He spread his hand across hers, glorying in the inviting warmth of her as he finished the awkward apology. “Forgive me if m’words offended or made ye feel ill at ease. Please ken that I meant ye no harm or disrespect.”

  His heart fell as Sadie slid her hand out from under his. Dammit. This was no’ going well at all. Me and my ill-chosen words. But then Sadie placed her hand atop his and squeezed. “You didn’t offend me. You’ve been nothing but kind.”

  Alec flipped his hand before she could move, laced his fingers with hers, and returned the squeeze.

  Miss Lydia placed a platter of sliced barbecued brisket, still steaming and smothered in what smelled to be her homemade spicy sauce, on the far side of the soup tureen. She plopped a basket of sliced hard rolls down beside the brisket, then stepped back and examined the spread. “That should hold y’all ’til suppertime.” She pursed her lips and turned her attention to Alec, the focus of her glare targeting his hand that still held tight to Sadie’s. “Are you gonna let loose of her hand so she can eat while the food’s hot or are you just gonna sit there like a bump on a log and make moon eyes at her?”

  “I advise ye t’leave off, Mistress Lydia.” Hell’s demons and dragon scat! Why in blazes was the old woman bent on shaming him worse than usual today? Alec reluctantly released Sadie’s hand after one last squeeze. “My apologies. Again.”

  Sadie quietly chuckled as she returned her attention to the still steaming bowl of dumplings. Between spoonfuls, her gaze flitted about the table. “Are your brothers and father not joining us? Ramsay…or maybe it was Ross—sorry, I’m terrible with names. Anyway, one of your brothers brought me as far as the staircase but then hurried off in the other direction.”

  “Emrys isna feelin’ well. He’s retired to his quarters for the remainder of the day,” Dwyn said as he reached for a roll, slid a slice of brisket into the bun, then placed it on the plate in front of him with an elaborate flourish of his long, thin fingers. He added sliced tomatoes, bread-and-butter pickles, and spicy slaw to his plate, then rubbed his hands together with the excited look of an artist about to build a masterpiece. “The lads decided to eat in town. They thought it might be best if ye got to know the MacDara clan in small doses.”

  Alec heartily agreed with that line of thinkin’. ’Twas difficult enough to get to know Sadie better with Mistress Lydia and Máthair peckin’ at him like a pair of starving hens. If his brothers were here, they’d no’ offer him any easier a time of it.

  “I’m sorry to hear Mr. MacDara isn’t doing well.” Sadie helped herself to the brisket and rolls, then dipped the sandwich in the creamy broth of the chicken and dumplings and took a bite. She hurried to dab the drippings from her chin with the cloth napkin. Tucking the cloth back into her lap, she shrugged a slightly embarrassed smile at Alec.

  As far as he was concerned, the fine lass had nothin’ t’be embarrassed about. It did his heart good t’see a woman enjoy her food rather than sit staring at her empty plate like an underfed dog whilst everyone else ate their meal. Perhaps Mistress Sadie could bring about a change in Esme’s way of thinkin’.

  Lightly clearing her throat as she nervously dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, Sadie turned to Dwyn. “I hope Mr. MacDara’s condition isn’t serious. My stay here and the projected filming hasn’t overly upset him, has it?”

  “Emrys will be just fine, dear,” Sarinda said. “As he grows older, he’s havin’ more trouble keeping the events of the past back where they belong. My poor Emrys has no’ had an easy life. When he grows o’erly upset these days, he tends t’relive his battles from long ago.” Sarinda drew in a deep breath and sadly shook her head. “He’s witnessed many a harshness o’er his lifetime and now canna seem to escape the dreadful memories.”

  “PTSD,” Sadie said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Beg pardon?” Alec asked. “What is this PTSD?” He wasna familiar with that term, even though he prided himself on having acclimated to this time—well, acclimated to the oddities as much as was possible—over the past fifteen years.

  Dwyn had done his best to guide and teach the MacDaras all they needed to know to not only survive in the twenty-first century but also to thrive. The demigod had accomplished the task well, but Alec still never felt as though he really belonged here. At least not until now.

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Sadie said. “It sometimes happens to those who’ve experienced more than any human should have to endure. Their past haunts them—reaches into their present and torments them as though everything is happening all over again.”

  Every fiber in Alec’s being relaxed. She understood. Even without knowing the extent of the MacDara family history, Sadie understood—and didna appear to damn them for it. She’s a fine woman, she is. And she fits in well here. The strangest warm feeling blossomed in the center of his chest—a not unpleasant feeling, but one Alec had never felt before. The day suddenly brimmed with possibilities.

  “Aye. PTSD troubles Athair. But dinna fash, after a night of rest assisted by Mistress Lydia’s tonic, he’ll be right as rain by the morrow.” Alec set his silverware aside. He didna want food. He wanted time with Sadie. Private time. The memory of the almost kiss made him wish he’d worn his kilt rather than the heavily seamed work jeans. He shifted in the chair. Damn these trews. They had a stranglehold on his man parts.

  Sadie perked with interest. “What kind of tonic? An old herbal remedy maybe? I read where the shops here at the park are well stocked with quite the
selection of homeopathic herbs and oils. I’ve always been interested in the old remedies.”

  Miss Lydia waved away her words. “Nothin’ as fancy as all that.” She toddled over to the kitchen cabinet and drew down a sealed canning jar over half full of an almost clear liquid. “My brother’s best batch this year.” She smiled and winked. “Nothin’ cures what ails you better than a healthy snort of white lightnin’ laced with honey and lemon.”

  “Moonshine?” Sadie’s eyes rounded and she slowly lowered her spoon to her plate. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  With a disinterested shrug, Miss Lydia slid the jar back up onto the top shelf of the cabinet and tightly closed the door. “Only if you sell it—or get caught.”

  May the gods have mercy on my soul. Alec closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose whilst praying for divine guidance. He pulled in a deep breath, scooted back from the table, and stood. “If ye’ve had yer fill, we’ve plenty of time to stroll through the main area of the park this afternoon. Tomorrow, I’ll take ye to the outer borders, where ye will be better able t’see the entirety of our land and where the filming may and may not be permitted.”

  A promising idea came to mind as he noticed the amount of brisket left on the platter still sitting in the center of the dinner table. ’Twas the perfect amount for a packed lunch for two.

  “Mistress Lydia, would ye please prepare a food basket for m’self and Mistress Sadie and have it waiting in the walk-in larder in the mornin’? According to the weather forecasters, tomorrow looks t’be a fine day for a picnic on the bluff overlooking the river.” He turned to Sadie. “We’ll leave first thing after breakfast. Aye? I assume ye do ride?”

  Sadie blinked up at him as though she hadn’t quite kept up with the conversation. “Horses?”

  “Aye…horses.” What the hell else would the woman ride? They allowed none of those noisy motorized bicycles in the park.

  “Uhm. Sure.” Sadie glanced first over at Miss Lydia, then across to Sarinda, then back up to Alec. “It’s been a while, but I know how to ride.”

  Miss Lydia smiled and winked, then hurried over to the open double doors of the huge pantry adjoining the kitchen. Huffing and muttering under her breath, she bobbed up and down, then swayed from side to side, pawing through the crowded shelves like a squirrel checking its winter hoard.

  “There it is!” she crowed, yanking free a neatly collapsed picnic basket and an assortment of other items off the shelf with it. She turned and winked again at Alec. Her knowing look sent a chill up his spine. “Just you leave everything to me. I’ll pack everything you’ll need for the perfect picnic.”

  Miss Lydia’s tone filled Alec with suspicion and no small amount of dread. The old woman had gone into plotting mode. He’d bet a keg of whisky on it. What the hell is she up to this time?

  Sadie tugged on his arm, pulling him from the Miss Lydia–induced sense of impending doom. “Let’s go. I’ve got a tank full of dumplings and brisket and shoes made for walking.” With a bouncing step that jiggled her full bosoms in the most delightful way, Sadie displayed her hot pink tennis shoes laced up tight with bright purple laces. She paused at the top of the staircase leading down to the foyer and looked back at him. Her wondrous cleavage stretched her sweatshirt tighter, daring Alec to try and look away.

  God a’mighty. Alec shifted in place, wishing Sadie would go ahead and start down the stairs so he could shift his stubbornly rising member away from the wicked bite of the denim seams. No such luck. She stood there waiting, looking up at him with an expectant smile.

  Alec waved her forward. “Ladies first. Lead the way.” He swallowed a strained groan as her curvy hips tortured his hardening cock even further with a delicious bounce and wiggle with every step she took. Gods be with me. Get me through this day. I canna have her today. Too soon. But hope for the future quickened his step as he hurried down the stairs behind her. Mayhap tomorrow, if all goes as planned.

  Waiting on the outer landing, leaning over the black wrought-iron railing surrounding the stone porch, Sadie glanced back at him as he pulled the door shut behind him. “Which way?”

  Alec blinked, struck mute by the sight of Sadie bent over the iron railing to examine the surrounding area below. Lore a’mighty. What a fine arse. He scrubbed his palms against the rough fabric of his jeans. Damn, but he wished he could fill his hands with that delightful fullness.

  “Alec?” Sadie straightened and turned to face him. “Which way? Over that gated overpass to the main keep or down the steps to that brick path leading into the woods?”

  At this time of day, the main keep adjoining the park would be full of afternoon tourists. People. Crowds of them, since this week was when most of the area schools scheduled fall break for their students. He didna want people. He wanted alone time with Sadie—even if they just talked, he wanted her all to himself. Aye and for certain—I’m t’be a greedy bastard where this sweet lass is concerned. “Down the steps. Ye saw a bit of the keep the day of the meeting and ye’ll see more whene’er ye have yer meetings with the other writers that Dwyn said ye’d be workin’ with in the evenings.”

  He hadna much cared for that particular condition she’d requested in her response to his terms. But Dwyn had assured him that she’d only done so to test his intentions, so he’d had no choice but to agree. He motioned to the path disappearing into the trees. “The path there will take us ’round to the main market area of the park. I’ll show ye the shops and the smithy.”

  “I definitely want a look at the herbal shop. Like I said earlier, I’ve dabbled a bit in aromatherapy—studied some herbs and oils and their history.” Sadie shrugged as they followed the moss-covered bricks into the woods. “It’s kind of a hobby. A good way to relax and banish the meaners of the day from your thoughts.”

  “Banish the meaners?” Alec repeated. “What exactly are meaners? Yer no’ a witch, are ye?” He was only partially teasing. Being an ancient Scot, he had a deep, abiding respect for those able to accomplish the unexplainable with nothing more than a few herbs and oils and carefully whispered rhymes.

  “Depends on who you ask,” Sadie replied with a wicked grin and a wink. “And meaners are rude people. Jerks. You know. What’s the Scottish word for assholes?”

  Alec rumbled out a short, barking laugh. He’d not teach Sadie that word. She might use it on him. The more time he spent with her, the lighter his heart felt. He’d ne’er felt this kind of peace before. ’Twas like a sense of being whole again. He’d ne’er felt it in this country nor in this complicated century.

  The slightest movement off in the woods caught Alec’s attention. He laid a hand on Sadie’s arm, pulling her to a stop with a soft shushing sound and a finger pressed to his lips. He leaned close and whispered against her cheek, “Allow me t’introduce ye to Doughal and Kenzie.” He gently turned her and pointed.

  Several yards to the right of the brick path, in a small clearing hemmed by a circlet of towering pines, stood a majestic buck with a trophy rack of twelve points that would make any hunter drool. Tied to one antler was a strip of plaid ribbon perfectly matching the tartan seen all around the park. On the ground beside the deer stood an extremely overweight fox squirrel. Both animals were poised at attention, frozen in place, warily focused on Alec and Sadie.

  “Doughal and Kenzie?” Sadie whispered.

  “Aye,” Alec replied softly. He slowly lifted a hand to the animals and barely raised his voice. “Yer Lady Esme is confined to her room, but she’ll be out to visit with ye just before sunset as she always does. I’ll see to it.”

  Both animals immediately melted into the woods, disappearing into the thicket of pines without a sound.

  “So beautiful,” Sadie breathed, still staring at the point in the trees where the animals had gone.

  The joy in her voice washed over Alec like a lover’s touch. He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. Control. Must take care.

  “Are they Esme’s pets?” she asked as they started back up th
e path.

  “I wouldna exactly call them pets.” Alec clasped his hands to the small of his back to keep from grabbing one of Sadie’s hands and walking with it pressed to his heart. “A fierce storm came through here two years ago. Wicked damage was done to the land as well as the park. During cleanup, Esme found an abandoned fawn and a litter of half-drowned fox squirrels.”

  “She saved them?”

  “Aye.” Alec nodded. “Doughal, the fawn, responded to m’wee sister’s touch quite well and has stayed close in the private woods surrounding the family’s area of the keep.” Alec chuckled. “My brothers swear Esme’s bewitched the buck, but Máthair says humans are not the only creatures on this earth able to ken a pure heart filled with love when they find it.”

  “Your mother sounds like a wise woman.” Sadie looped a hand through Alec’s arm and squeezed, sending a thrill clear to his soul. They walked along in silence for a few paces, then Sadie asked, “So Kenzie was the squirrel. What did she name the other ones?”

  “I’m afraid Kenzie was the only survivor of the three that Esme found in the downed tree.” Alec shook his head, remembering his sister’s sorrow when each of the little animals had failed to thrive under her careful tending. “ ’Twas a terrible time at the keep when we had t’bury Esme’s wee friends. M’dear sister might be a wicked beastie at times, but when she loves, she loves hard.” Alec stopped walking, covered Sadie’s hand with his own, and turned her toward him. “All the MacDaras love hard.”

  Sadie nervously wet her bottom lip, her gaze dropping to their clasped hands. “I see,” she said, her voice dropping lower. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Aye,” Alec said, not attempting to keep the wistfulness from his tone. “See that ye do.”