Page 23 of Priceless (Return to Culloden Moor #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

J acob suggested we stop at the pub for a bite of supper.

“Yes, please,” I said. “I’m starving.”

He snorted. “We’ve just worked up a lot of… appetite , so it’s no wonder.”

I bit my bottom lip and denied nothing. When he had to crack the window due to steamy windows, I laughed out loud. He didn’t, which made me laugh even harder.

At Jocko’s, the place was busy enough that no one noticed us when we slipped in the door and headed for the fireplace.

A pole stood in front of the table where I’d had lunch the day before, a “reserved” sign at the top.

Jacob pulled out the chair closest to the fire for me before taking the sign and moving it over to the wall.

He took our coats and hung them on the sign.

Then he sat opposite me. Even sitting, he was a tall wall that kept the heat of the fire from getting away, and I was grateful.

Kicking off my shoes wasn’t really an option, but I hoped the heat would eventually reach my frozen toes.

He was unexpectedly quiet. Only smiled when our eyes met. But maybe he was having the same problem I was—trying to recover from that kiss.

With his back to the rest of the bar, he never noticed the number of locals who looked our way and smiled, waiting to catch his attention. I pretended not to notice and never gave him a reason to turn away from me. We were in our own little world with a soft buzz of conversation in the background.

He must have noticed Vonnie’s bright hair from the corner of his eye because he shook his head before she ever reached our table, and she veered away without saying a word.

He reached over to pull my hand to the middle of the table, then removed my glove one finger at a time.

I happily offered him the other hand, and when he was done, he tossed both gloves between the wall and the salt and pepper shakers.

He picked up that first hand again and massaged each finger, frowning at them for not warming fast enough. “I have somethin’ to tell ye, Laira. And I fear ye willnae like it.”

“Oh, yeah?” I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. He’d already shown me how he felt about me. What else could there be that was so serious. “You don’t have a second wife, do you?”

Again, when I laughed, he didn’t laugh with me. My face had thawed well enough to fall, and when I was able to shake the stun off, I tried to take my hand back. But he held it tight.

“Easy, lass. I am not married, even to a ghostie.”

“Maybe…maybe you’d better tell whatever it is before I freak out.”

He checked my expression, then nodded and went back to studying my hand. I tried to brace myself for a huge letdown, since it was so serious he couldn’t stand to look at me while he explained.

A pity the memory of our lovely day was about to be ruined…

“I…started somethin’, ye see. I arranged for all this.” With one hand, he gestured all around us.

“Ladies and gents!” Vonnie stood on the rungs of a bar stool to make herself taller while she called out to the crowd. “We’ve a treat for ye this evenin’! Our dear friend Jessica Wallace has agreed to gift us with a song! So shut yer gobs and quiet yer pints, aye?”

In a mere two seconds, the place was deathly still. The only noise came from the distant sizzling of food in the kitchen.

Vonnie gestured to a woman further down the way in a dark skirt and a jean jacket.

Her back was to the bar, and she held a half-finished pint in her hand.

A man beside her, dressed in a red and black kilt, took her drink and sat it on the bar.

She rubbed her hands together, hummed a lilting tune, then began to sing.

It was a slow, sad song with no accompaniment. Her voice was lovely, the notes pure.

The story was captivating.

I looked at Jacob’s flushed face. Guilt was written all over it.

I whispered, “Did you think this would embarrass me?”

He shook his head, then turned his chair so he could see both me and the performer.

I rolled my eyes and went back to listening.

Out on the moor where the heather grows bare,

Soni stood singing to the cold midnight air.

Her love was a shadow, no warmth in his skin,

But she sang to the wind till he answered again.

Oh Simon, oh Simon, come walkin’ wi’ me,

From the land o’ the hush to the roots o’ the tree.

If love can awaken what death has undone,

Then rise, bonnie ghost, wi’ the touch o’ the sun.

A ghost love story? Must be a Scottish thing, I thought. And I was totally up for it, having recently become a fan of them on that long plane ride.

She danced ‘round the fire, she laughed through her tears,

The ghost shook his head, he’d been dreading for years

The moment his wee witch would make him obey.

For he knew too well the price she would pay.

Oh Simon, oh Simon, come walkin’ wi’ me,

From the land o’ the hush to the shores of the sea.

If love can awaken what death has undone,

Then rise, my true love, wi’ the touch o’ the sun.

With her hand tapping on her thigh, the woman leaned sideways against the man who had relieved her of her drink. He smiled and kissed the top of her head before she started singing again.

She’d waited forever,

her hope never died,

No grave could contain

what her heart was denied.

He answered her call

though it tore him apart,

And was glad of her kiss…as it shattered his heart.

Oh Simon, oh Simon, the night's never long,

When the dead learn the steps to a living girl’s song.

If love can awaken what death has undone,

We’ll dance, bonnie ghost, when the rising is done.

The crowd must have been familiar with the song because they erupted with applause while I was still hoping for another verse.

Jacob started clapping too. Just a little slower, still worried about something. Maybe it had nothing to do with the song after all.

When the applause ended, the noise picked up again like someone had un-paused a TV, as if the bar patrons resumed their conversations mid-sentence.

People laughed here and there, shouted, then laughed again.

Men and women alike, all ages, all stripes, carried on like they were at home with fifty friends.

And I realized that Jocko’s Public House was a very happy place.

No wonder he stays here instead of a big empty house.

Well, mostly empty…

Jessica, the singer, caught sight of Jacob and her face lit. She grabbed her husband by the hand—I assumed he was her husband—and dragged him all the way to our table. “J…Jacob! Vonnie said ye were on holiday!”

He shrugged. “Ye dinnae see me behind the taps, aye?”

She laughed in his face, like a sister would. “I supposed ye’re not the only man I ken who would spend his free time at the shop.” She stuck her hand out toward me. “I’m Jess. This is my husband, Banner. My da owns a butcher shop. His vacations are rare too.”

“Pleased to meet you.” I shook her hand, then Banner’s. “I’m Laira.”

“Laira,” she repeated. “Pretty name. And an American.” She lifted an eyebrow and waited for Jacob to speak.

“Aye, she’s from C… Denver, Colorado.”

I wondered if stuttering was a Scottish thing. Something to do with Gaelic speakers?

Jess pressed. “And?”

He reached over and took my hand again. “And she’s with me.”

“ With ye?” Her wide eyes turned back to me. “Ye’re with Jacob?”

I didn’t look away. “Looks like it.”

Jacob squeezed my hand, and I knew this was what he’d been asking for, on that bridge. For my hand, for my kiss, and for this. To be his. For however long we had.

I sent him a quick wink. Then, from the corner of my eye, I watched his chest expand.

Banner had been watching closely and burst out laughing, then pounded Jacob on the back. “Another Highlander bit by an American woman. I shouldnae be surprised.”

His wife nudged him with her hip. “Just as long as I’m the only one bitin’ ye , Banner Wallace, I dinnae care who ends up in Jacob’s lap.” She choked on her words and her eyes widened. “As long as it’s not the Widow Woodbrey.” She whispered the name.

I had to know. “Who is the Widow Woodbrey?”

Jess waved a hand. “Just his most adoring patron. She’d be on his lap in a trice if he’d only sit down long enough.”

Banner grinned. “Well, he’s sittin’ now. And I’m fair to certain I saw the widow come in at the end of yer song, love.” He turned and craned his neck toward the far end of the room.

Jacob shot to his feet. “She didnae!”

Banner dropped his smile. “Aye, laddie. She’s at the gov’ner’s table with Virgil and his lot.”

Jacob towered forward to look into my eyes. “I dinnae want her to lay eyes on ye, Laira. Jess, sit with her while I send the widow on her way.”

Jess bit her lips together, but nodded and took the seat next to me. “Go with him,” she told her husband. “Play interference. And dinnae torment the man!” She shouted the last part.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” I said. “Is this woman that scary? Jacob looked terrified.”

“Auch, he is, no mistake. The widow’s been threatenin’ to have him for the past ten years. I believe he checks under his bed every evenin’ before he turns out the light.”

Vonnie arrived with two pints topped with suds. When she put them down, she frowned. “Jacob comin’ back?”

“Aye,” Jess said. “He’s gone to take out the rubbish—I mean the widow. But he’ll be back.” She lowered her voice then pointed at me. “Since Laira here is with him.”

“She’s with him?”

They both looked at me like I was a new species of dog with feathers for fur.

Jess shrugged. “That’s what he said. She’s with me.” She added air quotes.

I tried to smile but failed. I suspected Vonnie wouldn’t take the news as lightly as Jess had, and Jess hadn’t taken it lightly in the first place.

“That’s grand,” Vonnie said, to my utter surprise. “I hope… If anyone deserves happiness, it’s Jock…Jacob. And if ye’re the woman for the job, then ye deserve it too.” She and Jess exchanged a look, then Vonnie hustled away to check on customers.

We sipped in silence while we waited for the men to come back. There were too many bodies moving between the booths and the bar for us to see what was happening at the other end of the room.

“Pardon me for askin’,” Jess said, after a while. “But how long do ye expect to stay in town?”

“My return flight is for Monday the twenty-second.”

“Ten days, then.”

“Yeah. Jacob’s been playing tour guide?—”

“When did ye meet?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Her eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, but I do.”

I sighed. “Yesterday. We met yesterday. A friend suggested I try Jocko’s for lunch?—”

She blinked. “For lunch? Truly?”

“Yeah. I got to Inverness yesterday morning?—"

“Who is yer friend? A local?”

“No. Just someone helping me plan my trip.”

“What’s her name?”

“Him. Jocko, actually. So, I’m sure that’s why he suggested the place.”

She nodded slowly. “Right, right. Sounds like a fun friend.”

“Yeah. He is. Very funny. The only Scotsman I knew before I came here.”

“An old friend of the family, is he?”

“No. A…long distance friend.”

She nodded knowingly. “And internet friend, then. I’ve made a lot of those. Some days ye just need to feel connected to the rest of the world. Banner doesnae approve of the internet. He has to have it for the classes he takes, but he hates the idea of social media. He’s…old fashioned.”

“We should have all disapproved a long time ago. Now we’ll never get rid of it.”

“True, true. So, yer Jocko helped ye plan yer trip?”

“He did. I guess I can’t complain about how it’s turned out so far.”

“Right ye are. Jacob’s one of the fine ones. Ye’re a verra lucky woman, no matter how long it lasts.”

I closed my eyes and shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Sorry. Sorry. But I was just thinkin’…to have the immersive Scottish experience, besides winning the heart of a Highlander, ye must come fishin’ with Banner and me tomorrow.

The pair of ye. Trust me, the family vessel is no small thing.

Ye’ll have everything ye need. And Trenton fixes a picnic that’s pure blasta. ”

I assumed that meant tasty. “You’ll have to ask Jacob…”

Someone slowly turned down the volume on the crowd again. All attention rotated to the door. Over the top of heads, we could see it open, slowly, and stay open for a few seconds before closing again. When it did, the crowd stayed hushed. Heads hung low, like they’d all just heard that someone died.

People found seats. Jess grabbed my arm and we sat there, braced for the news to reach us.

At the opposite end of the bar, four old men sat at a corner booth. One of them stood up and raised his glass. “We’ll all need another round, Vonnie, if ye please. On me. For I never thought we’d see the day?—”

“Never?” someone shouted. “Never see the day ye’d buy a round, ye mean!”

The old man frowned, not appreciating the interruption. “For we never thought the day would come when our Jocko would relent…and walk the widow home.”