Page 2 of A Flower for Angus

Ben had a point, but Angus wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “Thistlewind will be yer place one day, so quit yer complainin’.”

“I know, I know.” Ben rolled his eyes. “I only have one more year at Uni and I’ll have my business degree in accounting and a minor in animal management. Then I can take over yer books here and manage our place.”

At that moment, Dorothy popped into the living room with a plastic storage dish full of the lamb roast meal for Angus. “Here ye go, Dad.”

Angus took the dish gingerly from her, hoping the spice from inside didn’t burn through the plastic. “Thank ye kindly, Dorothy. I’m sorry I don’t have more time to eat with ye.”

Ben snorted and then coughed into his hand. Angus shot him a dirty look.

“Oh, it’s quite all right. I’m used to it by this time.” Dorothy gave him a gleaming smile and Angus could have sworn there was devilment lurking behind those China blue orbs. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it either, but he was perplexed as to the cause of it.

The couple’s marriage had been a quick one. Angus would have laid money on the lass expecting a child in eight and a half months, but it hadn’t happened. Therefore, he had to reluctantly conclude that it really was love that pulled them together. He didn’t know Dorothy very well, but he’d learned from painful experience that she couldn’t cook. He couldn’t fault Ben for his choice though, the lass was a real looker.

“I’ll be on my way then,” he hastily replied as he made a beeline for the door. He snickered when he heard Ben making excuses for not eating his dinner as he closed the front door of their cottage behind him. They lived on the property and he knew Ben would come sniffing around later this evening to see if he’d brought home any leftovers from Lucerne’s cooking. Of course, not every woman was blessed with the skills of Lucerne MacCandish, nor of Ben’s mother, Rosie.

Angus sighed. He sure missed his Rosie pie, as he used to call her. Losing her to Covid had been a huge blow for him and his boys. And to his grandchildren. Ben didn’t have any yet, but Ross’s bairns were young and might not remember their grandmother as the memories faded with age. And at times, Angus was just plain lonely for some feminine company.

Oh, he had women sniffing around him, there were no shortages in that department. He might not be a highland lord but he had property connected to Heaven’s Gate and had done well for himself. He supposed it might be time to entertain the idea of marrying again. After all, 50 years old was nodding in his direction this year. The problem was, none of the lassies he knew in the highlands could compare to Rosie, or Rose, as she had been named. His mother’s name had been Aster, and his grandmother in the same line had been named Heather. According to his dad, that made flower names a tradition. Cripes, even his oldest son had married a girl named after a beautiful flower. He’d already married and lost his flower though. What were the chances of him meeting another one?

Not very likely.

As he stepped outside, the smell of heather and gorse drifted on the summer’s evening breeze. Sage and other wildflowers were mixed in with the unique scents—the scent of Scotland. It was bred into him, body and soul. He inhaled deeply, the feeling of being a part of the land itself deeply ingrained.

Generations of Sangster’s had been born in these highlands, and his family background was finely intertwined with that of the lords of Neamh. Crofters from earlier centuries all the way down to today had worked raising sheep for the MacCandish family.

When so many crofters had been run off or been shipped away from their homeland by their lords who didn’t need them anymore, Lord MacCandish had kept the Sangster family close. Eventually, Angus’s ancestor had even been deeded the very property he was standing on right now. Loyalty ran deep in his blood and bones. His feet kicked up the smell of the heather even stronger as he walked to his lifted black pickup truck. Once inside, he started the rumbling engine and turned his truck toward Neamh.

***

“WHO WAS THAT, HONEY?” Lucerne asked, already knowing the answer as Darro hung up his cell phone and returned it to his jeans pocket. “Did Angus need another rescue?” Her foot tapped slightly as she eyed her husband and sipped her hot chocolate.

“Aye, it was Angus. Don’t put all the lasagna away, he’ll be needing his belly filled again.” Darro put his long arms around her and tasted her lips with his tongue. Mm...chocolate with marshmallow.”

“Would ye like me to make ye a cup?”

“Not right now, I’ve got some work to do in the barn. As long as Angus is coming over, I might as well make him work for his supper.”

Lucerne wasn’t quite sure what to do about this situation with Angus. It wasn’t that she minded feeding him, she didn’t. She also knew that Angus regularly avoided his daughter-in-law’s meals if he could find a way to get out of it. When he couldn’t, Darro rescued him with a phone call.

“Honestly, is Dorothy’s cooking really that bad, or is Angus just spoiled?”

“Since I’ve no eaten the lass’s cooking, I can’t say, but Angus says she can’t boil water. How have the lessons been going?” He lifted the lid on the biscuit jar and helped himself to a sugar biccie.

“I hate to say it,” she admitted, “but Dorothy doesn’t seem to have a knack for it. I rather suspect that she doesn’t even like cooking, but she’s too sweet to say so.”

“I hope ye won’t mind fixing him a plate?” He kissed her on the nose and grinned. “After all, I have the best little chef in the highlands. I’m a lucky man.”

Lucerne turned pink. Although they had been married for almost five months, he still had the ability to make her blush. And to take her breath away. Just having him close to her made her girlie parts ache. “I’m the one who’s lucky,” she replied softly, reaching up and fisting the front of his shirt so she could pull him down to kiss him.

It wasn’t long before the rumble of Angus’s truck engine sounded at the back of the house. When the back door opened and Angus appeared in the doorway, they were still kissing.

“Is that all ye two ever do?” he complained. “Every time ye get near each other yer lips lock like magnets.” He sniffed the air appreciatively. “What’s that I smell?”

Darro grunted. “I already told ye she made lasagna, ye old coot.”

“Help yerself, Angus,” Lucerne offered with a smile. “I waited to put it away until ye got here.” She passed him a plate she had put out on the counter for his arrival.

“Bless ye, Lucerne,” he replied fervently. He gave Darro an evil side eye. “I never know with ye, lad. Things can change at a moment’s notice.”

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