Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

It’d been three days since Kate spent a late evening in the kitchen alone with Gabriel. And she thought they had settled upon a truce of sorts. But she hadn’t seen him since.

And she had wished to see him. Whether it was a good idea or bad, she couldn’t decide.

“Marcel is thirsty,” Lorna said.

Kate poked her head over the girl, who watched the bumblebee climb over the heather and leaves of the small wooden box she had made up. “Best fetch some water for him.”

“I want a bumblebee,” Lorna cried. She smashed her hands against the piano keys into a cacophony of sound.

“I don’t believe that’s how you play Greensleeves,” Kate said, raising and circling around the piano in the music room. She stopped, then quickly reached for the clock on the mantel above the marble fireplace. Kate opened her timepiece and adjusted the clock with a satisfied nod before returning to Lorna at the piano.

“Why do I have to practice piano?”

Kate leaned her elbows against the top and watched the girl. “What would you do with your mother?” she asked quietly.

“She died when I was a wee bairn. I dinna remember. ”

Kate had feared that. “Very well. What do you remember?”

“Toffee pudding!”

“And hand pies. Mama made the best hand pies,” Maisie added. “Da always said so.”

“And I miss her hugs and how she danced.”

“And the sound of her laugh.”

Kate’s heart broke all over. Very well. The MacInnes had been stuck long enough, and so had she, for that matter.

“Girls, we are going for a walk.”

Lorna jumped up from the piano and cheered.

Maisie quickly said her goodbyes to Marcel, and they both followed Kate out the door. She could never teach the girls if they didn’t trust her. Isn’t that why Gabriel spoke with her the other evening?

Trust.

She hummed to herself as she strolled into the village, the girls close on her heels, skipping and dancing around her. If Gabriel wished for her help, then she would expect the same from him. And that meant showing up for his nieces and not leaving them solely in her care. She wasn’t their nursemaid.

And he was family.

She would trust him when he showed her the same grace.

The Thistle and Glen Inn was a large, stacked stone building in an otherwise small village center. It sat on top of a hill overlooking a vast glen nestled between more mountains. In the distance, the bleating of sheep echoed, as did the yelling of her employer and his business partner, Finn Wallace.

The inn’s door was ajar. She pushed it open, scrunching her nose at the rancid smell. No one would ever come with the damage.

“Lift it, ye bloody arse!” Finn shouted. “Ye’re lettin’ yer side slip.”

She took the girls’ hands and stopped in the middle of the room as Gabriel and Finn shouted from behind the bar, bickering like two children with their eyes set on a pile of sweets.

Kate cleared her throat .

“If ye don’t lift up yer damn side,” Gabriel grumbled, “I’ll skin yer hide like a Sunday roast.”

Kate cleared her throat again, trying to get his attention before they continued.

“Uncle!” Lorna shouted, stomping her small muddy boots against the floor.

“Bluidy hell!” Finn yelped as something crashed down upon him. Gabriel snickered; Kate was not as amused.

“Are you two finished?” she asked, her arms crossed, staring down upon him like she imagined a disapproving governess might.

“What are ye doin’ here?” he barked, emerging from behind the bar, his face in a scowl.

He didn’t scare Kate. “We are here,” she said, “to help.”

Maisie tugged on Kate’s hand. “Miss Bancroft, have ye met us? I dinna think we are helpful at all.”

Kate bent down. “I disagree, Maisie. Many hands make light work.”

She had embroidered that on a pillow once when she was twelve. It was far less imaginative than the sampler she left behind with Charlotte in London.

Gabriel looked as if he was about to yell before marching forward and gently steering Kate out of the room into the back hallway. “Listen,” he said, “I have lots to do, and I dinna have time to mind ye or the bairns.”

“You listen to me, Gabriel MacInnes.” She stuck her finger into his chest, instantly regretting it. Three days was a long time to be away from him, yet she was certain she couldn’t stand the stubborn, growling giant. “Yell, bark, march about all you like. But I was hired to mind the bairns ”—she met his glare, mimicking his accent—”and they need to know they are loved and safe more than they need to know how to hold a teacup properly or conduct a conversation about the weather in French. I recognize there is a lot to be done, and all I am asking is to include them. They only just lost their father.”

Gabriel gently steered her finger away, then dropped his touch as if she burnt him. “He was my brother.”

“So he was. And if you weren’t stomping about with your head up your arse all day, worrying about restoring Dunsmuir Castle and rebuilding the inn and the distillery, you might make some peace with that.”

“I should let ye go for speaking to me that way,” he scoffed. “What do ye think I’m doin’ all this for anyhow?”

“I imagine it all comes down to making the distillery profitable. To prove that it could be done when more than half the village is against it. Including Finn.”

“They dinna ken what they want, only that they want food on their tables and a roof over their heads. And after my brother, I’m tryin’ to make that happen again. My brother never loved this place, he only thought it his birthright.”

“And you do love this place? You can’t seem to leave here fast enough.”

“I had a life of my own before now. And one day changed that. Suddenly, I’m stuck managing all this and two wee girls, and I’m doin’ what I can. But that’s no’ much. If ye want to leave, then consider this notice enough. I’ll write a good recommendation.”

She shook her head, refusing to let him hide any further.

“I will never go back to my life in London. At least here I am… someone. Not a wife to be won over or bargained for.”

“Nae, ye’re a governess. Isna that worse?”

“If I am so repulsive, then I choose to live within the choices I have left, and to live them without regret. If I am to be a despicable governess, then at least I will have a room to sleep in and food in my belly, and I will be safe.”

“Ye’re no’ safe with Lorna and Maisie, they’re bound to run ye off one way or another. And as for me?”

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes glowering at her, appraising her.

“Katherine Bancroft, ye’re a menace,” he growled before stomping out through the back into the stable yard.

He grabbed an axe and placed a log on another, then raised the weapon above his head and split the log clean into two.

Oh .

Kate was certain she was furious with him. And she likely still was. But never had she seen a man with an axe before.

Never…

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

Splitting wood was nothing she would have seen in London. But here? Certainly, she would be lying if she didn’t admit she hadn’t heard rumors of men wearing kilts, and she had heard rumors of rough Highlanders. But in her short time in Scotland, she hadn’t seen a kilt, and while Gabriel was stubborn, she wouldn’t go as far to say he was rough and dangerous.

But no one had ever prepared for her this.

“Close yer mouth,” he snapped, knocking off a teetering split log to replace it with another.

There, that made everything far easier to deal with.

“Miss Bancroft!” the girls shouted from inside.

She ignored them, proceeding down the stairs into the stable yard and squinting her eyes against the sun filtering through the dark-gray clouds.

“If you won’t tell us what we can help with, I will find something to help with. Like finding you a wife.”

He swung the axe overhead and let out a low, guttural groan that made her feel a bit funny, as if she were stuck in a crush in a London ballroom, and the doors wouldn’t open to allow in fresh air. “Ye wouldna dare.”

“Try me, Mr. MacInnes.”

“Now it’s back to Mr. MacInnes?” He shook his head, laughing at her. “No wife. I’ve no interest.”

“Which is exactly what a man would say if he were afraid to be loved.”

He narrowed his eyes on her again, and she thought for a moment he would lift her up and toss her over his shoulder. And for one flash of an instant, excitement bubbled in her chest at such a possibility.

“Says the governess who’s here to hide after some useless cad ruined her because she didna recognize her own worth. Admit it, Kate, ye need to be kissed and well. ”

She edged closer, lifting her chin. She could smell the fresh split wood and the salt of his skin, and already, he was disappearing into Scotland. If he had told her any later that he had lived in Paris and Hamburg, she never would have believed him. He was all rough edges now.

“Who says I haven’t?”

He tossed down his axe, and she backed up a step, a nervous giggle erupting in her chest, suddenly spurred on by the light in his eyes as if he was enjoying their sparring.

Then a small whine echoed from the edge of the river.

“Miss Bancroft!” the girls shouted again from inside. Finn hollered back at them, but Kate couldn’t understand.

And couldn’t hear honestly, for she was already well on her way to investigate the noise by the river.

“Wait!” Gabriel ordered from behind her.

“Now you wish to protect me?” she shot back over her shoulder.

“No.” His hand reached out and steadied her as she slipped in the long, wet grass sloping down toward the riverbank. “But if ye die now, the girls will most definitely kill me.”

“I suppose that was meant to be endearing.”

“It sure as hell wasn’t meant as anything beyond I didna wish to watch ye break yer neck.”

She slapped away his hand and rushed forward to a large, gray beast nestled between two large stones by the river’s edge.

“He’s hurt,” she said, moving her hands over the animal without touching it. She didn’t know where to begin.

“Mind yerself now for he could bite.”

“You’ve done a fine enough job of that this morning as it is.”

“Yer mouth,” he mumbled. He crouched down beside her and lifted the dog’s paw that was licked raw. “Seems he’s a thorn in the underside of his paw.”

“Who does he belong to? Someone must be looking for him. He’s not exactly hard to miss.”

“I dinna recognize him. ”

Gabriel ran his hand over the dark gray wiry coat. “Steady now, we’ve no aim at hurtin’ ye.”

Kate unwrapped the shawl from her shoulders. “Here, help me bring him up to the inn.”

“Ye’ll be cold.”

“Not more so than this poor thing. I’ll manage.”

Gabriel mumbled under his breath, but he did as told and wrapped the beast in the shawl and lifted him up.

The dog was truly a giant. She had never seen one so large.

“The fella’s a Scottish deerhound. Must be a year or so.”

Once settled in Gabriel’s arms, she scratched the top of the dog’s head. “You’re safe now, you understand? That paw will be healed in no time.”

She felt Gabriel’s gaze on her before she glanced up.

“We canna be keepin’ him, now.”

“Of course not,” Kate said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He snickered. “First a bumblebee, now this beast.”

“Marcel is hardly an imposition.”

“Miss Bancroft!” Lorna burst out of the inn waving a broom around, then halted, her eyes wide. “Uncle, you found us a dog! I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“A dog!” Maisie yelled, shoving her sister out of the way to run to Kate and Gabriel as they entered the stable yard.

“That’s no’ dog, that’s a hellhound,” Finn said, standing on the stairs with his arms akimbo.

“We’re no’ keeping him,” Gabriel grumbled, stepping between the girls as they danced and shouted, and Kate grinned at his fruitless determination. “Move on, I need to carry him inside.”

“By the hearth,” Kate ordered.

He nodded, not saying a word as Kate rushed inside and found some rag from behind the bar top.

“Girls, find me a blanket.” They scattered, then returned a few moments later.

Gabriel set the dog down, and Kate gingerly tended to the animal, humming to herself as she fetched water and found scraps for him to eat.

The girls ran about as Finn began hammering and cursing to himself.

As she knelt beside the dog, she felt the weight of a warm wool coat being wrapped over her shoulders.

“Ye’ll catch yer death,” he muttered. “Givin’ yer shawl to that beast.”

“I think Oscar fits better than Beast.” She scratched behind his ear, and the dog lifted his head and placed it against her thigh.

“He won’t be sleepin’ in the castle. He can stay out in the stable.”

She heard his footsteps linger behind her for a moment. A shiver chased up her spine from the warmth radiating over her body off his jacket. The warm wool smelled of Gabriel, all oak moss and river. As if he were the beast born from the Highlands and not the animal resting against her.

Kate didn’t hide her smile, not even as she continued humming when the dog drifted off to sleep, and Gabriel and the girls laughed out in the tavern room.

Finn shuffled into the kitchen, sinking down into a chair by the fire, silent.

For a time, Kate left him alone and tended to the dog before rolling out pie. But his shoulders were hunched, and it was difficult not to feel as if everything was suddenly a burden. Finlay Wallace was a defeated man, and it seeped out around him like a poison.

But Kate wasn’t interested in that. After all, she knew better than to blindly believe what someone showed her.

She brought over a cup of tea and a biscuit, then sat down opposite of him.

“I remember runnin’ around this kitchen as a boy. My mother worked here, that’s how I became friends with Tavish. When we were older, after his da passed and his mother refused to leave the castle, we’d steal bottles from behind the bar and have bonfires out back by the river. We thought we were kings.”

He grabbed the cup of tea and dragged it closer. “I followed Tavish, thinkin’ it was the right thing to do. I trusted him. But it turns out…” He spun the handle of the mug toward him. “He was a shite person. And I lost someone close to me because of him. She willna be back now.”

“But you miss him?”

“Archie is my cousin, but he’s young, ye ken? He’s always been smarter and better at nearly everything. I make a mess of things. Tavish was like my brother, and we learned this business ourselves when their da passed.”

He grabbed the biscuit on the table, his hands shaking. She could smell the whisky on his breath. “I dinna wish to be stuck living for someone who’s dead. But I dinna ken what to do.”

“I think Mr. MacInnes admires you.”

“Yer pure dafty,” he scoffed. “He believes the worst of me, and I only have myself to blame for that.”

“I am glad you’re here with us, Mr. Wallace.”

“Och, Finn is just fine.” He nodded over to the dog. “That beastie needs a lot of care.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Aye. Is that no’ the truth.” Finn broke a piece of the biscuit off and popped it into his mouth. “Is that why ye’ve come here to us, Katie?”

She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t much care for the name, but it was oddly endearing coming for a man nearly thirty-five and more than a little heartbroken.

“I make no promises. I think Mr. MacInnes intends to dismiss me.”

Finn set down his teacup and leaned closer, a slow, sad smile stretching onto his lips. “That man kens well enough ye’re the only thing that’ll save him now.”

She laughed at the absurdity of it all. “He thinks I’m a menace.”

“Aye, and ye are to be sure. Duty brought him back here, but it was fear that drove him away. If he stays, it’ll be because a lass like ye came to show he’s nothin’ to fear from himself.”

Kate was about to disagree when a knock shook the back door. Finn held his hand out to her, shaking his head.

“Could be the constable. He’s been poking around since the fire. ”

Again, a knock shook the door. “Let me in, Finn Wallace!” boomed a man’s voice.

Kate pushed back in her chair, grabbing the rolling pin off the tabletop, then cracked the door open.

“May I help you? We’re closed.”

“No’ for me, English.” The older, pot-bellied man pushed through, shoving her back against the wall. She gripped the rolling pin, anger swelling up in her chest.

Finn stood, holding his cup of tea in his hands. “What are ye doin’ here, Duncan?”

“I warned ye no’ to expand the distillery. I warned ye that the still ye have are the only ones ye can operate.”

He shook his head. “I decide that. I’m a partner. Ye’re not.”

“Partner to Gabriel?” The man guffawed. “Ye’ve drunk away any smarts in that head of yers. Just like yer father. Ye’ve nae right to be a partner in any business. And we all ken Gabe was the one to sort out any trouble. Maybe a bit too well…”

“Excuse me,” Kate said, coming to stand next to Finn. “I don’t believe you told me why you’re here. We’re closed.”

The man sneered. “Tell Gabriel I’m givin’ him a month to reconsider. It’d be best if ye urge him to do so. He might have nearly killed a man with his fists at eighteen, but I’ve an army of Highlanders ready to take on the laird of Dunsmuir Estate.”

Killed a man? Kate tried to hide her shock, nodding once before walking over to the worktable to continue making the pie.

“Dinna come back, Duncan. And ye best keep the girls out of it. I ken how ye operate,” Finn shouted, moving his boot enough for her to see the hilt of a blade strapped to his ankle.

The door slammed shut, and she exhaled, throwing her arms wide on the worktop to catch her breath.

“What was that, Finn?”

“Christ, one more thing to pile on top,” he mumbled. Finn scratched his brow. “That was Duncan McQuarrie comin’ to collect.”