“In that case…” She patted his arm and turned for the stairs.
Sean followed, close enough to catch her if she stumbled, but stayed directly behind her so she couldnae see him fishing the iron from her bag. When she opened her door and entered, he hurriedly set the iron outside the doorframe and followed her in.
After placing Kenna’s bag on the table, he joined her at the kitchen sink. She was already washing her hands when he slipped his arms around her and added his hands to the soapy mix. Leaning down, he kissed her neck, then the tip of her ear, as he intertwined their fingers and hands in the soapy foam. “McKenna,” he whispered next to her ear.
“Aye?” She replied softly, tipping her head to give him better access.
He trailed his lips along her jaw, wishing he had a lifetime to voice all the things he yearned to say. Toshowher how much he loved her when the words were no’ enough. “Just in case I dinnae have another chance to tell ye, I love ye. No’ just today. Or tomorrow. But for eternity.”
She turned in his arms, smearing soap suds across his shoulders as she clung to him. “And I, ye.” Just as quickly, she reared back to look at him, panic tightening her face. “What do ye mean by not having another chance? Ye’re not leaving, are ye, Sean?”
He kissed the tip of her nose to distract her from seeing any deception in his eyes. He’d ne’er been very good at lying. No’ even bending the truth a wee bit, as he was about to do. “Nae, lass. Just goin’ down tae help Owen. I promised I’d hurry, so I must go. There’s much tae do, so I’ll be late gettin’ back. Dinnae worry if ye wake up and I’m no’ here.” He kissed her hard and fast. “But Iwillbe back.”
“Promise tae wake me when ye come?”
He kissed her again, this time no’ so hard and no’ so fast. “Ye’ve my vow on it,” he said, releasing her. Backing slowly away, he gave her a wink, turned, and went out the door.
Outside, he grabbed the iron, ran down the steps, around the building and to the far end of town.“Please be open,please be open,”he chanted all the way to the iron-works business. Everything hinged on the man being thereandconsenting to Sean’s preposterous plan.
He nearly dropped to his knees with relief when the gate opened, and he saw movement inside the shop. ’Twas no’ too late. He still had a chance.
Three wee bells above the door tinkled softly when he entered and a kindly looking lady approached. “Welcome. Something I can do for ye? We’re about tae close, but if ye’ve something in mind—?”
Sean waved his arm, indicating the iron-work pieces, both inside and out. “I’d like tae speak wi’ the person who made all this, if ’tis possible.”
The woman beamed with pride. “He does fine work, my boy.”
“Is he here?” Sean pressed.
“Aye,” the woman nodded. “Just there, in the back.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I dinnae ken ’twill hurt if ye go on back. Alban is his name.”
“Thank ye.” Sean hurried through the door, wove his way through a cluttered storage room, down some steps and into a huge space, full of worktables, half-finished projects, paint, and so many unrecognizable pieces of machinery, ’twas dizzying.
Toward the back, a broad-shouldered, thick-waisted man was weaving wafer-thin strips of metal into a basket design. He looked both curious and annoyed when Sean approached, peering over Sean’s shoulder as if wondering how he’d gotten past the guard.
“Ye’re Alban?” Sean asked. “Yer mither said I might find ye here. ’Tis ye, that made the benches? And gates? Ye make gates?”
“I am. And I do.” He glanced over Sean’s shoulder again, his brows dovetailed into a V. “We’re closed. If ye want tae order something, come back tomorrow.” He turned his attention back to his weaving.
“ ’Twill be too late.” Sean stepped closer. “ ’Tis an emergency.”
The man stopped. Looked up with exaggerated skepticism. “Ye’ve a gate emergency?”
“Aye,” Sean held out the piece of iron. When the man’s eyes narrowed, he set the piece on the workbench, opened his sporran, and pulled out the smaller, pointed piece along with his drawing. He unfolded it and spread it out for the man to see. “I need these pieces incorporated intae this gate.” He remembered the string and pulled it out, as well. “These are the dimensions.”
The man looked at the drawing, the corroded iron pieces, and lastly, the wadded piece of string, and roared with laughter. “Who put ye up tae this? ’Twas that bull-headed MacKinnie, down at the pub, aye?”
“Nae,” Sean spit out, his ire rising. “ ’Tis as real as I am. A true emergency, and I—” He rubbed the back of his neck, fearing what he said next would get him tossed on his ear. “—I need it tae be finished—and delivered—tonight.”
“Delivered, is it? Are ye sure ye dinnae want me tae smelt the iron, too?” The man sneered and waved his hand toward a side door. “Out wi’ ye. I’ve no time for yer games.”
“Delivered, aye.” Sean nodded. “And installed.”
Though Alban’s glower dinnae bode well, Sean persisted. “How much would it cost, tae build it—just the outer frame, mind ye—with a single crossbar tae stabilize it, and a brace on either side tae bury in the ground, tae hang it on.”
“That’s all?” Alban mocked. “Just thatweebit o’ work? Tonight?”
“Built, delivered and installed. Before daylight, tomorrow.” Sean held his gaze, praying to all the saints, fates, and powers that be, that the man wouldnae refuse.
