Page 28 of It Happened in the Highlands
“What he may be feeling now is worse than boredom.”
“I agree. But I’m at a loss.”
“It’s the gesture that is important.Yourgesture,” she said. “And he might surprise you as far as how advanced he is in comprehension and maturity.”
Jo understood his frustration. He was willing to make a change. His commitment to his son was admirable.
“I’ll make arrangements and buy whatever you suggest. But we began by talking about getting him involved with the patients.”
“Have Cuffe read to them,” she suggested. “Decide on a time each day for him to go into the ward and read aloud.”
“And what would he read that would keep them engaged?”
“It’s what keeps Cuffe engaged that matters.”
Jo remembered the gift that she was taking to Ella, Gregory and Freya’s niece at Torrishbrae. A volume of Ohenewaa’s African tales that her sister Phoebe had collected over the years and written out for the next generation of Pennington children.
“I can lend you a manuscript edition of fables for him to read while I’m here. Unfortunately, I need to take the volume with me when I leave for Sutherland. They’re Ohenewaa’s stories from western Africa.”
Wynne had never met her, but Jo had spoken many times of the wise woman during their times together. His blue eyes washed over her face and she knew he remembered.
His hold on her was back. The pull, the memories. They stood too close, the breeze making his coat dance with her dress. He brushed the back of his hand against hers in what could have been a silent gesture of gratitude for the offer. Warmth flooded though her. Her heart raced, her mind easing into the past and recalling how often he used to bring her fingers to his lips, turning her hand and kissing her palm. Butterflies danced in her belly at the mere thought.
She turned to the house, hoping to break the spell.
“Does anyone live here?” Jo asked, letting out an unsteady breath. She focused her attention on the grey and brown stonework and the unglazed windows. The slate roof appeared to be intact, however, and the foundation of the addition would be doubling the size of the house.
“No one at present.”
“It looks much newer than the Abbey.”
“It’s older, actually,” he replied, turning his gaze toward the structure. “Knockburn Hall was a hunting lodge of one of the old Stewart kings. He gave the land to some monks but kept the use of the tower house for himself. It’s been sitting here for years, but it was recently purchased. The owner intends to move in when the new construction is completed.”
Wynne offered Jo his arm and she took it.
They went closer, and Jo remarked about the lovely turrets and how the house was situated facing south. “It’s so protected from the winds with the forest and hills behind and the open meadows before it.”
“I believe the addition will have a great many windows and a terraced garden extending in this direction to take advantage of the view.”
“You know a great deal about the plans,” she noted suspiciously.
“I should. Knockburn Hall is my house. Or it will be when it’s finished.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. The living quarters of the Abbey was a McKendry stronghold. Wynne wouldn’t want to raise his son in the home of others.
“Would you care to see the inside?”
They stood shoulder to shoulder. His free hand pressed her fingers on his arm. A swell of yearning rose within her body.
She imagined the two of them alone in the house. The ancient oak floors. The morning sun streaming in the windows. There was a time when she dreamed of a moment like this, a time for the two of them. Alone. But that time was long gone. It was too late.
She pulled away from him, gathering the shawl tighter around her. “No, I should go back. I was planning on having breakfast with Dr. McKendry. I want to convince him to allow me to spend the day in the ward.”
He bowed and she hurried away, retracing her steps to the path. The aching in her heart trailed her at every step. If only she could turn around, go in the house, pretend that they’d just met.
Only when she reached the brook did she look over her shoulder.
Wynne was still standing where she left him, watching her walk away.
