Page 27 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

S omething had shifted between them. Evie wasn’t certain what that was. Perhaps because she didn’t take the stone from him again when he offered it to her to try to return home. Perhaps it was some other predestined reason.

She never believed in fate or destiny or any of that mumbo-jumbo. She believed what you saw was what you got. She believed love took time to develop and it had to stem from an inherent liking for one another. Friends first. Lovers second.

But what if that was wrong?

She snuck a glance at Callum who rode tall and sure in the saddle, the reins gripped lightly in his hands. Handsome, yes, but was that why she was drawn to him?

No, she didn’t think so. She thought it was something more. Something deeper. And for the first time in her life, she could believe in love at first sight and destiny.

They arrived at the keep, trotting through the gate.

In the yard, the stable hand came to take their horses and care for them.

Callum paused as though contemplating something.

He reached for her hand, taking it in his and tugging her closer.

She was confused a moment until he reached into his sporran and brought out the stone.

He placed it in her hand, closing her fingers around it.

“Ye best keep this on ye, lass.”

Her brows drew together. “You’re giving me the stone?”

“For safekeeping,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

This was certainly a turn of events. “But, why?”

“If there is a clan war,” he said, “I dinnae want to chance losing it.”

He released her hand and walked toward the keep, leaving her standing there in stunned silence. She was shocked that he trusted her to keep the stone safe. How did he know she wasn’t going to try to use it to return home?

She hurried to catch up to him. “I don’t understand. You trust me with this?”

“Aye,” was all he said as he entered the keep.

“But…why?”

He stopped and turned to her, gripping her by the shoulders. “I told ye why. If something happens to me, ye need to have it.”

Icy fear trickled over her. “Do you think something is going to happen to you?”

His expression softened as if he realized he had scared her. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. It sent tendrils of excitement through her.

“Nay, lass.”

Then he walked away. He left her standing there in the great hall with the stone in her hand and a million questions running through her mind.

She was flabbergasted that he trusted her with the stone.

Glancing down, she opened her fingers to look at it.

It was not glowing or humming as it nestled against her palm.

She lifted her other hand up to see the imprint of the lines still there. As if it were a permanent sunburn.

“Lassie? Are ye all right?” Malcolm’s voice echoed through the great hall.

He stood near her, question on his face as he peered at her. His gaze flickered down to her hand and back up again.

“I…I’m not sure.”

He walked closer, pausing next to her. He saw she held the stone. “Callum gave ye the keystone?”

“Yes,” she said, the word an icy whisper between her lips. “He…he lost it during the battle with the MacDonalds. We rode out this morning to find it. It was glowing when we found it.”

Malcolm was silent as he stared at her, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked a great deal like Callum with a hint of Hamish in his face. There were gold strands in his hair and full beard. Chloe wouldn’t like a full beard.

It was an odd thought to cross her mind.

“And he gave it to ye?”

“Yes, for safekeeping, he said. In case something happens to him.” She lifted her gaze to his.

Malcolm gave a low whistle. “Well, then, lass. Callum has decided to trust ye.”

He patted her shoulder as he walked by her. She spun to face him.

“Malcolm, is something going to happen to Callum?”

He paused, turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Dinnae fash yerself about him, lass. He gave ye the stone because he trusts ye, now. ’Tis all.”

Malcolm went on his way, leaving Evie alone in the great hall.

She slipped the stone into the pocket of her dress.

She walked to the table and sat as she contemplated everything that had happened.

It was hard to shake the feeling that she was supposed to be here with Callum.

Lately, it was difficult for her to get the dream she had of him out of her mind.

The way he had sat by the hearth and she had moved from the bed to climb into his lap.

She wondered what those strong arms would feel like wrapping around her as she kissed him.

Heat flooded her cheeks. She pressed her cold hands against them and then rose from the table. She was starting to believe in love at first sight, just as Callum was starting to believe in the prophecy.

Or she hoped.

She stood a long moment in the great hall, alone, wondering what to do with herself now that he had left her. She didn’t want to bother him since the loss of his father was still so new and raw. He might want some time alone. She understood that more than anyone.

She wandered her way from the great hall into the kitchen where she found Roslyn hard at work kneading bread. She, herself, wasn’t much of a cook so watching her do something that was nothing more than an ordinary task fascinated her.

“Back so soon from yer ride, lass?” she asked.

“Yes, I…well, that is to stay…” She didn’t want to talk to Roslyn about the keystone and standing there stammering was ridiculous. She pressed her lips together. Finally, she said, “Can I help you do anything?”

The woman paused and looked at her, a curious glint in her eye. “Ye want to help me?”

“If you need help, that is.” Evie twisted her hands together to keep them still so she wouldn’t fidget. “I know you’re busy so I don’t want to intrude.”

“Aye, I can give ye some tasks to do if ye want to help me.” She paused her kneading and reached for a towel to wipe her hands. “I’ve got to get the pottage on but ye can help me gather some of the ingredients I need.”

She had no idea what pottage was, so she merely nodded. Roslyn reached for a basket near the back door of the kitchen and handed it to her.

“Fetch me some eggs, lass. I need three or four, but best to bring them all in, aye? And then I need some parsley, sage, and mint from the garden. A handful of each. Can ye do that?”

Evie took the basket on her arm and nodded.

Roslyn ushered her to the back door and set her on her way to the chicken coop as well as pointing out the herb garden.

The door closed with a snap behind her, leaving her standing there in the cool late morning breeze with questions lingering in her mind.

She was no cook—parsley, sage, and mint were found in the spice aisle of the grocery store. However, she did know how they smelled, so she was going to have to rely on her nose to find them. She decided to tackle that second.

First, it was on to the chicken coop where she was faced with a few hens pecking the ground and one rooster who eyed her suspiciously as she approached. She had never in her life collected eggs from a hen. She was a city girl to the core. How in the world did she think she was going to gather eggs?

She approached the coop, keeping an eye on the rooster who walked with slow, methodical steps as if he were ready to fly into attack mode.

“I’m here for the eggs,” she told him, not that it mattered.

When she stepped into the coop, she was relieved to see it was devoid of hens and nothing more than a few nests.

She spied several in the first nest and reached for one, picking it up as if it were made of glass.

She placed it gently into the basket. Then she gathered the second and the third.

By the time she got around the coop, she had solid confidence about gathering eggs. This was easy. She could do this.

Then on to the herb garden. As she headed away from the coop, the rooster still eyed her as though she were an intruder. She kept one eye on him as she left and headed for the herb garden, which was nothing more than a patch of greenery outside the kitchen’s back door.

She placed the basket on the ground out of the way and then proceeded to kneel on the ground and inhale the scent of the greenery in front of her.

She recognized several familiar smells—rosemary for one.

But Roslyn didn’t ask for rosemary. She recognized the needle-like leaves on the stalks.

Moving down, she spotted a plant with oval, velvety leaves that looked somewhat familiar.

She plucked a piece of it, rubbing one of the leaves between her thumb and forefinger and then inhaling the scent.

She got a sudden burst of Granny’s cornbread dressing in her mind and was immediately transported back to her childhood on Thanksgiving.

Her mother pulling a large, roasted bird from the oven and Granny fussing over the way the dressing still wasn’t brown enough on top.

She recalled Grandpa telling Granny the dressing “needed more sage” and her shooing him out of the kitchen.

She and Chloe would sneak into the kitchen while their mother and Granny were cooking their dinner, looking for snacks and hoping to swipe something to quiet their growling stomachs.

They always got caught and were ordered out.

Evie rocked back on her heels and smiled, remembering those moments of her life that were now long gone and far in the past. Or was that in the future? It was all so confusing.

She plucked a few more stems, then moved down to an area with lush green plants with flat leaves that she recognized immediately. Parsley. She didn’t have to smell it to know what it was. She added a few stems of parsley to her bouquet. Then it was on to find the mint.

She smelled the aromatic leaves immediately. She grabbed a few of the square stems, smiling and proud of herself as she rose. She placed all of this in her basket along with the eggs and then headed back into the kitchen.

Roslyn was no longer kneading the bread. It was set aside while she worked to place large bits of meat into a pot and cover it with water. When Evie returned, she grinned and took the basket from her.

“Thank ye, lass. This will do verra nicely.”

Evie watched as Roslyn placed the fresh herbs aside and then began to chop them.

“What is pottage anyway?” Evie asked.

Roslyn stopped a moment to gape at her. “Ye never had it?”

She shrugged, unsure how she should answer.

“Och, it’s a meat soup with herbs and spices.” She motioned her to follow her to the other side of the kitchen where she had small containers with pre-measured spices. She lifted one up to Evie’s nose. “Smell.”

She did and immediately coughed. The scent was sharp and peppery and sweet. “What is that?”

“Mace,” she said with a smile. Then she held up a second one. “And this.”

Evie had learned her lesson and took a small intake of breath. This one she recognized as warm and spicy, reminding her of apple cobbler. She closed her eyes and savored it for a moment, smiling.

“Cloves?” she asked.

“Aye,” Roslyn said, as if she were proud of her student. She held up a third one.

Evie took another breath and knew this one, too. Slightly sweet and pungent. “Ginger?”

“Aye! Good. And this?”

This one was dark red in color and had a distinctive smell that was both bittersweet and earthy as well as spicy and leathery. She knew that smell, but couldn’t place it.

“I don’t know this one.”

“Saffron,” Roslyn said with a smile.

Evie blinked in surprise. In her world, saffron was known as the most expensive spice and sometimes referred to as red gold.

It was clear to her that Roslyn was an accomplished cook.

Evie had never learned how to cook anything that wasn’t out of a box.

She loved watching the woman bustle around the kitchen.

Once the pot was boiling, she stirred as it simmered, then turned her attention back to her dough. She proclaimed it ready for the oven.

Something inside Evie came alive and an impulse pounded through her. Her mother had died before she could teach her anything about cooking or baking.

“Roslyn?”

The woman blew a wayward lock of hair off her forehead as she worked to make another loaf of bread. “Aye?”

“Could you teach me to cook?”

She froze for a moment as she looked up at her, their eyes meeting. She had a look of curious wonder as if she didn’t understand why she wanted to learn. But then Roslyn smiled, a glint of joy sparking in her eyes. “Aye, lass. I can.”