“Any more expired products I need tae log and haul out?” Owen called from the doorway. “Oh, sorry. I thought ye’d be done with that section, by now.”
“A mix-up on my part,” Sean explained. “ ’Tis almost done.”
“Good. Then we can start the final inventory. If we hurry, ye’ll still get a few hours on Kenna’s sofa before ye have tae be back for deliveries.” Chuckling, Owen turned back to the kitchen.
Och! The deliveries! Sean considered all that must come to pass between now and then. How could he possibly be back in time? Although, his scheme will have worked, or no’, by then. He’d either be back here, consoling Kenna, or back here, consoling Owen over her disappearance.
He dropped onto a crate. How would he ever explain her leaving wi’out a word to the man who thinks of her as a daughter?
* * *
The moon was wellinto the western sky when Sean slipped around the back of the iron-works and followed the noise to an old, metal-roofed building. The bare windows, glowing with light, revealed pulley-chains hanging from the ceiling, and from somewhere out of sight, a burst of sparks shot into the air.
Sean tried the door. ’Twas locked. Frowning, he pounded on it, waited, and pounded again. “Alban, open up.” Several minutes passed, filled with muted clanging and curses. “Alban, open the door!”
Another long curse and the door opened to a sweaty, red-faced Alban with an odd-looking metal helmet in his hand.
“If ye keep interuptin’ ’twill no’ be my fault this doesnae get finished on time. And ye’ll owe the rest o’ the money, anyway.”
“How long?” Sean pressed.
“The gate is done. An outer frame only, mind ye, with one crossbar and a latch, just as we discussed,” Alban cautioned. “I’ve only the posts tae finish, now.”
Sean tried to push his way inside. “Let me see.”
Alban pushed back. “ ’Tis there.” He jerked his head toward an old beat-up lorry with the back down. “Ye said no paint,” Alban reminded him. “ ’Tis an ugly thing, what with those ancient, corroded pieces ye insisted on. And no’ somethin’ I want my name attached tae.”
Ignoring him, Sean peered over the side. ’Twas enough of a moon to see the shape; just as he’d sketched it. His sigh of relief was audible, even to Alban, whose belligerent expression turned smug. The gate was indeed an eyesore, but Sean couldnae be happier. The pieces he’d dug up were attached, standing out like ugly ducklings in a swan-pond.
“ ’Tis fine,” he grinned at Alban, unable to contain his relief. In his heart-of-hearts, his determination to bring it into existence never quite overcame his fear that it couldnae be done. Though it still dinnae ensure Kenna’s success in returning home, they were one step closer. At least in theory. “How long for the posts?”
Alban shrugged. “An hour.”
Sean glanced at the moon and the still-dark eastern horizon. “Once ye have them loaded, meet us behind the bakery.”
“Us?”
“Aye. I told ye there’d be passengers. One hour. No more. And dinnae forget the tools ye’ll need tae install it.”
“Just be sureyebring the money,” Alban called as Sean hurried away.
* * *
Carefully easingonto the edge of Kenna’s bed, Sean lifted a lock of her hair and tickled her nose. “Wake, sweeting. We’ve a journey tae take.”
Kenna stirred, swatted at the disturbance, and resettled.
Replacing her lock of hair with his kiss, Sean moved from her nose to her eyelids, touching his lips to each thickly lashed lid. “Come, lass.” He kissed her lips, slightly parted and satin-soft, then gently nipped her bottom lip so he could kiss away the imagined injury. ’Twould take some tending, he reasoned, deepening the kiss.
He smiled when Kenna’s arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer.
So sweet, so soft, so perfect in his arms.
Her response tempted him to surrender to the night and his love for her, but with immense regret, he ended the kiss and pulled back. “I’d trade my soul tae stay here like this forever, but we’ve a journey tae take.”
“A journey?” She blinked and glanced around the room. “ ’Tis the middle of the night, Sean. Where do ye want tae go?”
Easing back, he helped her sit up. “The kirk. Wear yer dress and slippers. And leave yer hair down.”
