“How long do ye ken ye’ll be here? Helping yer aunt, I mean?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess it depends on Aunt Phoebe and how long the packing takes. She seems in a rush to get it done, though, now that she’s made the decision to sell. It’s hard for her; giving up this place. She and Uncle Crayton were so happy here.”
He placed his palm at the small of her back to guide her around a narrow turn in the trail. When it was wide enough to walk side by side again, he kept it there, loathe to pull it away.
“Aye. I ken the pain of letting go of something ye love so much.” He swallowed hard to keep his voice steady. “Ye, and yer sisters, can stay indefinitely, then?”
“Well, no. Not exactly.” Lauren swatted at a buzzing insect intent on examining her face. “Julia has promised to help my mother with a charity auction that’s coming up, so she can’t stay much longer. Nothing takes precedence over one of mother’s events.Nothing.”
Reginald couldnae tell if Lauren’s grimace was for her mither, or the pesky insect. Though the touch of resentment in her voice—nae, ’twas more disappointment, than anything, suggested her mother may have let her down more than once. From her comment, and what she’d revealed about her parents last night, he dinnae ken Lauren had grown up with a loving mither, like he’d had.
“What aboutyerplans? Ye’ve a book tae finish, aye? I dinnae ken much of such things. Will that take ye tae lots of other places? Or, will ye go back home, as well?”
No matter where she went, ’twould be too far. Phoebe’s invitation to him, to stay a few days, afforded him more time wi’ Lauren, but ’twould surely make the partin’ that much harder. He liked her.A lot. And ’twas no’ just a first encounter wi’ a woman after so many years. Lauren was special, and growing more so, by the minute.
In contrast, he dinnae care for her younger sister. No’ at all. Julia, however, seemed verra nice. But ’twas Lauren his thoughts went to. Lauren whose lips he yearned to explore, over and over.
She smiled up at him. “You remembered about my book?”
“Aye. It sounded important tae ye, so…” he shrugged.
She looked surprised, but inordinately pleased. “Other than Julia, and my publisher, of course, no one else ever pays attention. Well, readers, thank goodness, but no one in my family. I shouldn’t discount Aunt Phoebe, though. She’s always supported me.”
She fluttered a hand in front of her face, as if waving the situation away. “So, yes, I do have a book to finish, with a not-too-distant deadline. I’ve still got a little more research to do, and an interview, if I can get it. But…” she tipped her head and chewed on her bottom lip. “…I could do a good share of that from right here. Then I could stay and help Aunt Phoebe a little longer.”
As always, Lauren’s thoughts were clearly displayed on her face, like a silent, but ever-changing play. Watching her had fascinated Reginald from the moment he’d met her. Sometimes her expressions changed so fast he couldnae keep up. And sometimes, like now, when her brows suddenly dipped and that worry wrinkle on her forehead was back, he kenned something troublesome was coming, even before she spoke the words.
“I can access most of my files online, but I still have notebooks of research to transcribe, and they’re sitting in my apartment, in New York.”
The joy he’d felt moments ago at the prospect of her staying longer, drained away, taking his hopes with it. “So ye’ll go home to America, then?”
“I guess so,” she said, almost in a whisper. “For a while, anyway.”
He could think of nothing appropriate to say, so he merely nodded. They walked in silence for a time, but he couldnae let it go.
“And after the book?”
She shrugged. “After? Some promotion and a few signings, then on to the next one, I suppose. I’m contracted for one more. Then we’ll see.”
“I dinnae suppose ye’ll have reason tae return tae Scotland, then. Since Phoebe will be selling the place, and all.”
He watched her closely. But she kept her face averted, pretending to watch something in the meadow. “Not unless my research brings me back, for some reason,” she finally whispered.
“Aye.” he muttered. ’Twas naught else he could say.
“Never mind all of that.” She raised her hands, inhaled deeply, and exhaled in a rush. “We’re in a gorgeous valley, on a beautiful sunny afternoon. Let’s forget the past and the future, and just enjoy today!”
She was right. He dinnae wish to spoil what time they did have together.
He savored every movement, watching the joy on Lauren’s face with each discovery as they moved down the valley. She found delight in everything. She pointed out birds and butterflies. Even a slow-moving ant carrying a grain of something, twice its size.
She stopped to pluck a tiny wildflower from beside the path and held it to her nose. “Lovely,” she said, as she held it up for him to see, her eyes reflecting her pleasure.
“Aye.” He replied, watching her, instead. “Lovely, indeed.”
Pulling his attention back to the glen, Reginald recalled how he’d always been intrigued by how this far end of the valley gradually sloped toward the crag, and how the streams converged into one, to tumble over the precipice. The space between the hills narrowed, like a natural funnel, and the hills became steeper, making the climb to the cemetery knoll a bit more taxing than the pleasant walk they’d had, thus far.
He moved ahead of Lauren, reached back, took her hand, and helped her ascend the slope. “Be careful of yer ankle, lass.”
