Page 17 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“I t’s nae use Miss, it’s broken,” the young lad driving the cart sounded as if he might cry.

Teasag glanced around the windswept landscape. They’d been on the road for less than half an hour when the rickety cart had broken down. Since then, they’d spent fifteen minutes by the side of the dirt track that made the road to Blackness while the young lad had tried unsuccessfully to mend the broken wheel. And now, despite a promising start, the clouds were gathering overhead, and if they weren’t quick, they were going to get caught in a downpour.

Teasag had hoped to be in Blackness by now. Instead, they were stuck by the roadside in the middle of nowhere, left to the fickle Scottish weather.

“Are ye sure there’s naething I can do?” she ventured nervously, as the lad fiddled with the broken spokes on the cartwheel.

The young lad cast her a look as if this question was ridiculous that it didn’t even warrant an answer. Irritation beginning to get the better of her, Teasag gathered her skirts to disembark from the cart. She honestly didn’t know why she hadn’t done so sooner and strolled alongside the cartman.

It was a brave move, as by the look of him, the lad was most choleric. But, at that moment, Teasag was too.

“Och, just stay where ye are, lassie, unless yer a wheelwright in disguise, in which case, step right up,” said the lad, his tone dry with sarcasm. He didn’t even so much as turn to face her as he battled against the broken wheel. It was true that he had been in a bad mood ever since they’d left the town.

Teasag’s temper stirred. She didn’t like being spoken to like this, but for the moment, she kept quiet.

“If we could have left on time, then maybe all this could have been avoided,” muttered the lad, beneath his breath. His words were directed to himself, but from the little look he threw her, Teasag knew he intended her to hear.

“Och, I’m sorry about that,” said Teasag, trying to banish her impatience. “I didnae ken I’d left something behind,” she added. As she spoke, her fingers cradled the two tiny thimbles from the safety of her travel bag.

The lad glanced up at her. “The lad slowed us down,” he said, his annoyance clear.

“The lad stopped me from losing my mother’s thimbles, sir,” said Teasag, directly. Her tone was formal, but in her head, she could feel her emotions mounting. “It’s the only thing I have left o’ her, an’ I could have so easily left it… an’ it was good of him to stop an’ bring it. So if yer going to blame anyone, blame me,” she said, defiantly building up to quite a head of steam.

Teasag stopped, blushing, her face burning, and her eyes misting over. The tension she felt was finally coming to the fore. Her angst about coming home mixed with the shock of losing her mother and the confusing encounter with Neacal. All of it combined to produce a hot flurry of tears, which she blinked away as the sullen cart lad stared at her.

But seeing her obvious distress, his face changed, “Och, Miss, I dinnae blame ye, really,” he said, as Teasag struggled to get a grip of her emotion. Then, as a sly aside, he added. “Maybe blame that muckle daft ram who headbutted the cart on the way oot of toon, though, I ken I should have stopped off then to get it seen to!”

The lad looked at her with a conciliatory smile, trying to make amends. Teasag smiled, feeling even more of a fool, as her heart rate leaped in her chest. The last few days had been too much, and it had all just hit her at once.

It was true; she was mortified that she had nearly lost the only reminder she had of her mother, so carelessly. And once again, it had been Neacal who had come to her rescue.

As she stood gazing into the empty fields on the muddy roadside, Teasag’s heart gave a pang. Would she ever see him again?

“Och,” said Teasag, in a resigned fashion. Looking around, there was precisely nothing and no-one on the horizon. Overhead, the first spots of rain had begun to fall, and it was starting to dawn on her that she might not reach Blackness before nightfall unless things started to improve.

“Dinnae fash,” said the lad, putting a brave face on it. Teasag could see his suppressed frustration on his creasing brow, but he smoothed it aside. “We’ll get there by hook, or by crook, afore tomorrow…we have to…” said the lad, looking dubiously at the churns of milk. “Otherwise, they’ll curdle an’ be cheese!”

Teasag had forgotten about the cargo. She turned to look at the laden cart. “Maybe ye could ride into town to get help, an’ I’ll stay here,” she said.

The cartman instantly shook his head. “Nae, I dinnae want to leave ye wi’ the cart, miss, anything could happen oot here, ye might get robbed for the cargo an’ then McCauley the farmer will batter me!”

“Well then, I could ride into the toon,” she said, indicating the muscular dray-horse yoked to the cart standing sulkily by the roadside chewing on a rose.

“Nae,” said the lad, his face a tower of worry. “Nae wi’ auld Jock here, he’s a braw dray-horse, but an awfu’ ride. An’ he dinnae like anyone he isnae used to. I wouldnae trust him nae to throw ye off…”

There was a pause as the pair of them wondered silently what to do. Then, right on cue, the gray carthorse in front of them whinnied alarmingly, throwing back its thick head and kicking out its front hooves, as if to illustrate the cartman’s point.

“An’, och,” said the cartman, as if he had just thought of something else.

“What is it?” asked Teasag watchfully. She could see the lad’s expression had changed again to something quite crestfallen.

“Och, well, I’ve been thinking. Even if they can get the cart mended today, it’s going to leave me short o’ time to do everything. Ye ken, I was only going to Blackness to drop ye off… there’s still all my rounds to make first… which are going to take longer…” his voice drifted off and hung in the air awkwardly.

Watching his face, Teasag was suddenly aware that he was working his way up to something.

“Well. It’s just I might nae get to Blackness for quite some time yet, an’,” he continued, his eyes shifting from point to point and refusing to meet hers. “An’ ye might be delayed, an’ I’m meant to get back again…”

He left his point hovering in the air until it was impossible for Teasag not to understand.