Page 43 of A Flower for Angus

Poppy’s hands trembled as she dressed in white cotton shorts and a pink Chicago bears T-shirt. She was a sports fan after all. She felt brittle, as if one more bad thing would crack her into shards and leave her body lying in pieces on the floor. Maybe she did need to get out.

She prayed there still wasn’t a lone wolf out there determined to end her existence the moment she popped up. Sequestered here at Neamh with big protective Scotsmen all around her would have made it difficult to get to her, but back in the public with strangers all around she would be easy prey. Trying to shake off her jitters, she resolved to stick close to Angus and try to relax.

When she returned to the kitchen, Angus’s eyes lit up and he took the last swallow of his tea and placed the cup in the sink. “Ye ready, lass?”

He was looking particularly handsome today with a white shirt open at the collar and tucked into dark blue khaki shorts. He had really nice-looking legs, tanned and muscular with a light covering of fine blond hairs.

“Do you ever wear a kilt?” she asked impulsively.

He grinned. “It’s been known to happen.”

Lucerne laughed. “Supposedly he and Darro have participated at times in some of the local dances for the tourists, but I have yet to see that.”

“I’d love to see that,” Poppy enthused. “I wonder who can step the highest?” she teased, knowing their competitive bent with each other.

“Depends on the way ye look at it. Since Darro’s taller, naturally he would step higher, but if ye mean high as in knees above the waist, that would be me,” Angus assured her with pride, folding his arms and stepping high.

Darro came around the corner from the back hallway and eyed Angus with an arched eyebrow. “What the devil are ye doing? If ye need exercise, there’s plenty of work to be done outside.”

“Demonstratin’ my high step to the lasses, of course,” Angus responded frostily.

“He assures us that his step is higher than yers in a kilt jig,” Lucerne goaded the situation.

Darro rolled his eyes. “I thought ye were taking Poppy into town. If that’s changed ye can perform for the sheep in the north pasture. They need a scary sight to make them move south.”

Angus grinned. “Always the slave driver, and he wonders why I eat so much.” He held out his hand to Poppy. “Come on, lass, before he changes his mind.”

Poppy giggled as Angus pulled her out to his truck and lifted her into the cab. Sometimes she really envied their easy camaraderie.

Lucerne had told her that Angus had always been there for Darro when Whipcord would come down hard on his son. Darro MacCandish senior had not been the gentlest of men and could use a whip with deadly accuracy. The name Darro meant‘the hard one’in Scottish and he’d lived up to his name. He’d been nicknamed Whipcord because he hadn’t been above landing the tip of his lash on a backside to get them moving faster. He’d set a high standard for his sons and Darro had responded.

When Whipcord had passed away, the transition of her husband to lord of Neamh and station master had gone smoothly, thanks to Angus. They were completely loyal to each other in spite of their good-natured squabbling.

“What would ye like fer lunch from The Waterfront?” Angus asked as he climbed into the cab and took out his cell phone. “I’ll order and have it ready to be picked up when we get into Inverness.”

“I take it The Waterfront prepares picnic baskets for tourists?”

“Aye, that or we can order right off the menu if ye want hot food.”

“Then I’ll have a cheeseburger and chips this time,” she responded enthusiastically. “I can see how their burgers compare to McDonalds.”

Angus snorted. “That’s easy, they don’t. Cheeseburgers it is.”

After the order was placed, Poppy laid her head on Angus’s shoulder while he held her hand on his thigh as they headed to town. She tried to relax but she couldn’t help glancing furtively around her as if something or someone was going to come out of nowhere and start shooting at them. Each time they passed another vehicle, she tensed.

In town, she had to bite her tongue when Angus told her to stay put in the running vehicle while he grabbed their lunch. As soon as he left the truck, she slammed the door locks down and kept vigil all around her as people moved up and down the street, mostly ignoring her. No one gave her a second glance. Finally, she relaxed a little and picked up the brochure on Loch Ness. When Angus tapped on the window, she nearly jumped out of her skin. He pointed at the locked door button.

“I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, her face pink when he climbed into the truck and handed her the basket. “I didn’t see you coming, I was looking at the brochure.”

“Ye need to relax, lass,” he replied gently, staring at her face. His big thumb brushed across her cheek. “Ye’re safe now.”

“Am I really? How can you know that?” she snapped suddenly, then dropped her gaze to her trembling fingers on the picnic basket. “I-I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“I can see ye’re needin’ the Angus special stress reliever,” he declared, his eyebrows sky high.

Undecided if he was teasing or not, she bit, albeit suspiciously. “I highly doubt that I’ll want that, but tell me what it is anyway.”

“What a lass wants and what a lass needs are usually two verra different things,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. “Ye’ll just have to wait and see. Hand over a few of those chips to eat on the way.”

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