Page 41 of Highlander's Wild Lass
She huffed out a quivery laugh and stood. Her hands pulled away from him and she focused on brushing any hay that had attached to her skirts.
Celestia didn’t say much, just fumbled with jittery hands to grab down the gas lamp and rushed out of the stables with one last look at Anthony before she left in him the dark.
Anthony waited a moment, hearing her and Sebastian talking, and then when their voices faded toward the house, he stepped from the dark stables into the twilight.
“And where were ye?” Sebastian muttered, eyes filled with mischief, when Anthony reached the back door of the McLean house.
“Just helpin’ out with a horseshoe.”
“Ah, how was puttin’ on a shoe in the pitch dark?” he said, throwing his chin in the direction of stables.
Anthony only smiled and lightly punched Sebastian in the arm in response. A sly smile slid onto Sebastian’s mouth, Anthony laughed and was about to tell him when Chester burst through the back door.
“I daenae ken what ye said,” he said to Anthony, “but she agreed for ye to leave the arrows.” His grin was wide. “And she said ye’s can show yerselves out and to thank ye for teachin’ us.”
“Aye, give her our thanks as well,” Anthony said.
Sebastian nodded beside him. “Ye wee lads took to things well.”
Chester looked as if he was going to complain about being called a wee lad, but from within the house Celestia called him and he disappeared with a wave, leaving Anthony and Sebastian alone.
Anthony flashed a grin at him. “It was a good day.”
8
Each day that passed since she kissed Anthony in the stables, the more the memory fought to take over every thought in her head.
She kissed him.
Shekissedhim.
Celestia touched her thumb to her lips, remembering the softness of Anthony’s bottom lip. Every time her thoughts lingered on how he easily lifted her up and sat her down on the hay, she wondered what would have happened if they weren’t interrupted.
Celestia became aware of a hand waving in her face. She blinked several times and saw Jacob sitting across from her at her kitchen table. He’d come from Inverness that afternoon with a pile of responses from the letters she wrote their first day back in the distillery.
“Good lord, did the devil take ye just then?”
Might as well have.
“Of course not,” she told him, exhaling loudly. “What were ye sayin’?”
“I found the casks that Mr. Cummings was interested in for his faither’s birthday yesterday.”
“Finally,” she said in a huff, looking down at the spread of open letters before her on the table. “I’ll write to him a bit later.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment and gathered a few sheets of paper that lay in front of him. “I wouldnae be so disheartened, Celestia. The men will come back once they realize they cannae find better whisky.”
She attempted a smile, feeling grateful for Jacob. Ever the one to always have a reassuring word. But once some of her father’s customers discovered his daughter was running things, they refused to work with her—even a few that had been with McLean’s since the beginning.
Instead of signing just her name alone on letters and important documents, her father thought it best for Chester and Hugo to sign their names as well. To ensure that McLean Whisky was family-owned and operated business, not just woman-owned.
“Yer faither is havin’ the papers drawn up by the lawyer to legally sign ownership over to ye and yer brothers,” he said.
“Perfect,” she answered. “Thank ye for everythin’, Jacob. Truly.”
He blushed and waved her away. “I’m just happy to be able to help, and I’m glad ye have decided to keep me on staff.”
Her head shot up and she set a hard, serious look on him. “Were ye worried we werenae goin’ to keep ye?”
