Page 30 of It Happened in the Highlands
“As long as McDonnell and I can hear you,” he told him, adjusting a few of the chairs to face the spot where he told Cuffe to stand. Leaving him to it, Wynne sat next to the patient.
“And you’ll keep the time.”
“I’ll tell you when your hour is up,” he assured his son.
“What if I’m in the middle of a story?”
“You’ll finish it.”
The lad shook his head. “But some of the tales are short. It wouldn’t be fair if—”
“Cuffe,” he warned, cutting him off. “Begin now.”
A frown, some shifting from one foot to the other, and then he opened the book, paged through it, found a page to his liking, and started.
Wynne was here to see his son through the task rather than to listen to the story, but Cuffe’s posture changed as soon as he began. He became animated, energized by the text.
“Why the Sun and the Moon Live in the Sky,” he read. “Many years ago the Sun and Water were great friends, and both lived on the Earth together. The Sun used to visit the Water, but the Water never returned his visits.”
Cuffe paused and looked up at Wynne and the patient, seeing if he had their attention.
“At last the Sun asked the Water why he never came to see him in his house. The Water replied that the Sun’s house was not big enough, and that if he came with his family, he would drive the Sun out.”
Cuffe showed no hesitation or difficulty with the reading. To Wynne’s surprise, he was more than proficient. He spoke in a clear voice with no shyness whatsoever. The boy’s grandmother taught Cuffe to read and write back in Jamaica, but Wynne had never imagined he’d be so good at it.
Captivated by the effort, he watched and listened to the story as his son read dramatically, speaking in various voices to portray the characters.
“Yes, come in, my friend,” Cuffe said in a high-pitched voice for the Sun.
Wynne heard what sounded like a chuckle from the man sitting beside him and realized McDonnell was engaged in the reading.
“When the Water was level with the top of a man’s head, the Water said to the Sun . . .” Cuffe paused as another patient took a seat. “Do you want more of my family to come?”
McDonnell shook his head in response for the Sun.
“Yes,” Cuffe replied emphatically. “For the Sun did not know any better. So the Water flowed in, until the Sun and the Moon, his wife, had to perch themselves on the top of the roof.”
Several more patients joined them, and Wynne saw another had left the window and was standing close enough to hear. Someone made a noise behind him and was hushed as Cuffe continued.
“The Water very soon overflowed the top of the roof, and the Sun and Moon were forced to go up into the sky, where they have remained ever since.”
Immediate words of praise and “Hear, hear!” echoed from the gathered patients. Cuffe looked up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Wynne nodded his approval, and he saw the boy beam at someone standing behind him. He looked up and saw Jo. He immediately rose to his feet.
“Cuffe’s reading was wonderful,” she whispered. “You must be proud.”
“Thank you,” he said, meeting her shining brown eyes. “I’m grateful to you for—”
“He’s starting again,” she interrupted. “May I join you?”
“Of course.” Only two seats remained at the table, and as he held the chair for her, he saw Dermot approaching. Wynne looked around him at every occupied chair and sent the doctor a feigned look of sympathy before sitting beside her in the last chair.
“‘Clever Jackal Gets Left Out,’” Cuffe said, announcing the title of the next story.
Chapter 11
When Jo received Dr. McKendry’s invitation to travel to the Highlands, she never imagined her sojourn to the Abbey would result in friendship with the doctor. They conversed easily, sharing opinions and ideas, but their relationship ended there. Although he pretended to pursue her when they were in the presence of others, no spark of attraction existed. They were friends and only friends. But she was beginning to feel that others were not seeing their rapport in the same light.
Sitting at dinner on Tuesday night, Jo squirmed at the discussion between the Squire and Mrs. McKendry regarding the virtues of matrimony. Their opinions were seconded by the vicar, who went on to extol the doctor’s fine qualities. As they talked, the three of them continually sent Jo knowing and meaning-laden glances. Clearly, the only matter left to be concluded was the decision on a date and the reading of the banns.
