Chapter Nineteen
Iona
Rafe Knight has insecurities galore, thanks in large part to his ex-wife, I'm fair certain. Toby is a lovely young laddie, and I doubt he inherited those traits from his mother. Rafe might believe he's a bastard, but I intend to expunge all that self-loathing from his psyche no matter how long it takes. Aye, he has become important to me. I despised him at first. But now, I've gotten to know him so much better. He deserves his happily ever after.
Whether I can give that to him is an open question. But I'm willing to try.
So, I clasp his face with my damp hands and kiss him. "You're so sweet, Rafe."
"I can honestly say no one has ever used that term to describe me." He pulls me into his arms and nuzzles the top of my head. "Your hair smells like fragrant flowers, and it's quite soothing to my senses." He lifts his head and clears his throat. "Getting back to the problem at hand, I would feel better about the situation if you let me stay with you for the duration of...whatever might happen. I can sleep in another room or outside in a tent, if you like."
I stare at him blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Oh, Rafe, you absolutely are the sweetest man in the world."
"But you think I'm barmy and don't want me to stay here."
"I never said any such thing."
"Then, do you want me here?"
Cannae help laughing again. "Aye, Rafe, I want you here in every sense. And of course we'll share my bedroom. Dinnae think Maeve or Rowan would want a man sullying their beds. They do come home occasionally."
"They won't be horrified if they come home to find a strange man sleeping in their mother's bed?"
Laughter bubbles out of me again. "No, you silly man. They'll be as thrilled as Toby was when he heard you were with a woman."
"Your laughter is the most beautiful sound on earth and the best balm for any gent's soul."
None of the men I've ever dated would say such a thing to me. They would've been too embarrassed. But I love that Rafe has no shame when it comes to complimenting me. I wonder if he ever feels shame about anything. After all, he did storm into my life like a bolt of lightning and kissed me through the bars of his jail cell. Then he stormed into my hotel room to have a poke of monumental proportions with me.
Aye, it's likely he has no shame whatsoever. And that brings up a question. "Rafe, were you always as shameless and vocal about your feelings as you are now?"
His brows knit together, and his lips tighten. "No one has ever asked me that question, so I've never thought about it."
"Try to think about it now. I'm curious."
He leans his hip against the counter while his gaze goes distant. He doesn't even move a finger for at least thirty seconds. Then he nods his head slowly. "I believe my shamelessness existed before the lightning strike, but it was far more muted. It ballooned after the strike---after my near death at the hands of a bolt of lightning."
"I reckon it makes sense that if the lightning affected your emotions, it would also change your attitude about...everything."
"Angela accused me of becoming a different person, as if I were an alien wearing a human disguise."
"Does Toby feel that way? Or did he at the time?"
Rafe hunches his shoulders. "I don't know. Never asked him. I suppose I was afraid of what he might say."
"I doubt he thinks you're an alien."
Our discussion ends there. I didn't want to press him to talk about himself anymore. Rafe has been through enough in his life, and I can wait until he feels up to exploring his own feelings.
Since we have a few hours to kill before our lunch with the laddies, I convince Rafe to visit Thane's distillery. He makes a pained face when I suggest that. But then he agrees that it could be fun and it will give him a chance to prove to at least one of my brothers that he isn't a horrible man. Rafe suggests that helping him isn't my only goal, and that I'm probably more worried about my intruder than I've let on. A trip to the distillery might help me forget about that incident, at least for a while.
Rafe is a very clever man.
I drive, since he has no idea where the distillery is. It's a wee ways off the main road and hidden behind trees. But there is a driveway, so we aren't careening into the darkness of the unknown, as Rafe quips. I point out it's daytime, but he just smiles. I'm happy to see him happy---and relaxed, ready to face the world proudly. He doesn't even seem concerned about having lunch with Toby and Eric.
Everything will work out for Rafe and Toby. I'm certain of that.
But Eric on the other hand...I wish he'd find a girl his own age and give up on pestering me. Then we could be friends.
As we pull into the distillery's car park, I'm surprised to see so many people already filing into the main building, ready for a tour of the facility. Thane's clientele are mostly tourists who prefer to do their sightseeing in the afternoon. But I know he and Rebecca have worked hard to lure in more visitors from more demographics. Clearly, their strategy has paid off. I see adults from their twenties into their seventies or perhaps even older.
I've just parked the car when Rafe speaks. "You're quite proud of your brother's accomplishments, aren't you?"
"How did you know? I didn't say a word."
"True. But you started smiling the moment we reached the distillery complex. And when you glanced at the main building, you lit up even more."
I open the door on my side, but I haven't gotten out yet. "Is there something wrong with feeling proud of Thane?"
"Of course not. But I like seeing you this way. No one would be proud of me, especially since my mum and dad moved to Shropshire to enjoy their dotage in a quaint little cottage. They have no idea what my life is like now, and I mean to keep it that way." He gazes down at his hands and wrings them. "At least they never saw what I was like after the lightning strike. I only told them about it months later, and even then, I downplayed the aftereffects."
"Why would you do that? Don't you get along with your parents?"
"Yes, but---" He lifts one shoulder in a slight shrug. "What's the point of telling my parents everything? It would only upset them and make them worry about my health. I'm their only child, and they had me rather late in life. Mum is eighty-two. Dad is eighty-five."
"Oh, I see. Are they in poor health?"
Rafe flashes me a dark look. "Could we get out of the car? I'm bloody sick of being stuffed inside this tin can."
His anxiety has reared up again, so I'll cut him some slack. Once we've climbed out of the car and start walking toward the main distillery building, Rafe seems less anxious, at least enough that he answers my question.
"My parents are in reasonably good health," he tells me. "Slightly above average for a couple their age."
"I'm glad to hear that."
He throws me a teasing sidelong glance accompanied by a similar smile. "May I know about your mum and dad?"
"I'm happy to tell you about them." I hop onto the pavement, then explain. "My father, Keith, is now seventy-two. My mother, Elsa, is seventy-one. They haven't retired because they love their professions. Da is a leatherworker, and Ma does needlework. They earn a good living, though they have slowed down a wee bit as they got older. Not because they're feeble. It's only because they want to spend more time with family."
"The Buchanans must be a close-knit family. Your brothers are extremely protective of you."
"We are close, aye. Isn't your family like that?"
He chuckles. "My parents would never threaten to beat me into submission, literally, simply because I chose to get involved with someone they didn't like. My parents had no great love for Angela, but they let me make my own decisions." He winces. "Perhaps they shouldn't have. I made a ruddy awful decision when I married Angela. But I can't regret it. She gave me Toby, after all."
"The laddie takes after his father, clearly, and not his mother."
We've just reached the main doors of the distillery, and Rafe holds one side open for me. "It's a miracle Toby turned out as well as he did with two fucked-up parents."
Once we're inside the main hallway, I lay a hand on his arm, stopping us both. "You have a valid reason for being fucked up. Angela is nothing more than rotten a phitean ."
Rafe grins. "What in the world does that Gaelic word mean? I assume it is Gaelic."
"Aye, it is." I cross my arms. "And it means she's a C-word."
He chuckles again. "You are adorable, Iona. The tough journalist can't speak the C-word."
"You didn't either."
"In solidarity with you, naturally."
"Hmm." I squint at him. "You are full of shite."
Rafe slings his arm around me to crush me to his body. "I am most definitely full of shite, always, every day, until I'm dropped into my grave."
Someone coughs loudly behind Rafe. I cannae see who it is, what with Rafe's large body blocking my view. But then he turns to the side, and I finally can see.
"Are you two done with your foreplay yet?" Thane asks. "Or would ye rather have a poke in the hallway?"
I squint at my brother now. "Rafe and I were having a conversation. And you should be ashamed of yourself for eavesdropping."
"This is a public hallway, Iona. If you want secrecy, go into the restroom and block the door." He rubs his chin. "Come to think of it, Rebecca and I have already done that at least once."
Rafe seems highly amused by my conversation with my brother. "Can't keep track of your naughty interludes, eh? Maybe you should put up a sign warning tourists about that."
I make an irritated sound. "Thane, go back to work. I want to give Rafe a private tour of the facility."
The man in question lifts his brows. "I thought you wanted to show your brother that I'm not a raging arsehole."
"Yes. But Thane is probably too pigheaded to accept the truth, not unless the American Wives Club gets involved. Honestly, it might take a blow to the head with a caman to do that."
Rafe's brows draw together over his nose. "The American Wives Club? What in the world is that?"
"Why don't you two come into my office," Thane suggests. "We can grab Rebecca and Fiona along the way, then have a serious discussion about your intruder, Iona."
Thane leads the way, though I know how to find his office. He's my bossy oldest brother, though, which means he believes he's in charge of everything. Even here at the distillery that isn't true. Two strong-willed women handle most of the behind-the-scenes work.
"Who is Fiona?" Rafe whispers as we're following Thane.
"Fiona Sterling is the distillery manager," I say in an equally soft voice. "She used to be Fiona MacTaggart before she married Domhnall Sterling last year."
"How many MacTaggarts and Sterlings are there in this part of Scotland?"
"A normal amount of Sterlings, but a prodigious number of MacTaggarts."
Rafe has been holding my hand, but now he raises it to kiss my knuckles. "Should I expect to be assaulted by every Scotsman in the vicinity of Loch Fairbairn? I assume they all adore you."
"Dinnae fash, gràidh . No one will steal me away from you."
Only after the words left my mouth did I realize what I said. Calling him " gràidh " doesn't fash me. But declaring that no one will ever steal me away from him...I can't believe I spoke those words.
No, I cannae have strong feelings for a man I hardly know.
We've just reached Thane's office and walked inside, so that at least gives me a distraction from thinking about my potentially strong feelings for Rafe Knight. Thane and Rafe go down the hall to grab two more chairs, then return with them---and with Rebecca and Fiona.
Thane insists I should sit beside Rafe.
For my brother to do that could mean only one thing. He's sure I've become fond of Rafe Knight, and I can't deny it's true. But I am wondering why Thane arranged this meeting.
Everyone just sits here, silent, as if waiting for someone or something.
"What are you waiting for, Thane?" I ask. "We need to be in the village by one o'clock to meet Toby and Eric."
"I know that, but one person hasn't arrived yet." He gazes at me with his usual calm expression, unlike the way he'd behaved on the day Rafe stormed into my life. "Still no news about the intruder yet?"
"The constables couldn't find him. I know Fergus and Sorley are trying, but there just aren't any clues to help them. Couldn't you tap into that black box Ava Marston-Baines gave you?"
"Afraid not. It was for one-time use only, then it self-destructed by erasing all its memory and releasing a capsule that melted all the components."
I slump in my chair. "Too bad. It would've been so helpful."
The door bursts open, and my brother Ramsay stalks into the room.