Secret Garden (25 page)

“Colin, lad?” Colin’s friend from the Kildrammond pro shop was in his kilt, the prosthetic leg with the blue-and-white Saint Andrew’s Cross displayed proudly. McGuff slapped Colin’s arm, then caught him up in one of his bear hugs. “I didn’t expect your ugly mug here today.” McGuff set Colin down and glanced at Bonnie with interest. “Who’s the pretty lassie?”

Colin made the introduction. “Bonnie, this is McGuff.”

“Ian McGuff,” McGuff corrected.

“Ian McGuff,” Colin repeated. “He’s a stand-up guy.”

“That I am.” McGuff made an emphatic stomp with his prosthetic leg. Bonnie’s mouth dropped open.

“Seriously,” Colin said, trying not to smirk. “Ian is the most
committed
person I know.” There was a good fifteen-year age difference between Bonnie and McGuff, but if that was Bonnie’s cup of tea and commitment was what she preferred over Mack’s playing-the-field attitude, then Colin wasn’t about to discourage it.

“Aye.” McGuff slapped Colin on the arm. “You be at the practice range tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. I’ll meet you there.”

Colin didn’t know how McGuff managed to get up so early on a Sunday morning after spending Saturday night celebrating.

“I’ll be there,” Colin said. It was to be their last full day of training before Colin flew home to the States.

Colin’s tournament began on Thursday. He’d fly home Monday, recuperate Tuesday, fly the short hop to New York on Wednesday morning and then prepare for the first round of play on Thursday morning.

“Well,” McGuff said, “they’re lining up the pipers. I need to be getting back.” To Bonnie he said, “I’ll buy you a drink later, lass.”

“The drinks are free,” Bonnie pointed out.

“So they are. But did I mention that I give personal table service?” He winked at her.

Colin noticed that a smile had settled on Bonnie’s face. She was considering his offer.

Colin said his goodbyes and headed back to Rhiannon, just in time to catch her coming down the stairway again. When she saw him, she blushed even more furiously.

He chuckled at her. “Why are you being shy with me? What’s going on?”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’ll tell you later.”

But whatever she and Isabel had discussed, Rhiannon seemed happy. He just smiled and shook his head. Whatever was going on with her was fine with him. This was a big step for her, and so far, she was handling it like a champ. He felt fiercely proud of her.

Outside, the haunting drone of bagpipes and drums started up. Rhiannon’s face brightened.

“Come to the drawbridge!” She nudged Colin, and the two of them were among the first of the Sage family members to head outside to view the presentation of the pipe bands to the laird of the castle.

He squeezed Rhiannon’s hand, letting her know that she could trust him to be a constant presence. But she seemed immersed in the spectacle. There was something about the pipe bands that was deeply haunting and mystical. The historical ballads, with their proud and sad history, stirred his blood and seemed to resonate with his bones.

When the pipe bands had each marched past Malcolm’s chair, and the last band stood in formation, Malcolm rose and delivered the laird’s speech. Colin had to admit, Malcolm gave an impression of authority and strength. Colin would never want Rhiannon’s brother on his bad side.

And then came Rhiannon’s cue. “The lady will greet participants in the refreshment tent.”

Jacob, the Secret Service agent, gave them a discreet signal. He’d already formed a sort of impromptu rope line, and Jessie and Jamie were at the head of the queue.

“Are you ready?” Colin asked Rhiannon.

“Do you think I can do it?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

Still, he saw her stiffen, noted her breathing accelerate. She was beginning to get that look in her eyes that she’d had the first morning he bumped into her behind his grandparents’ cottage.

“Hey.” He gazed into her eyes. “Do you remember how we were in the secret garden?” he murmured. “Do you remember that feeling when we were sitting on the grass?”

With two pink spots in her cheeks, she nodded.

“Just keep that feeling going, because I’m here with you for this,” he said.

“I know.” She smiled at him, a trusting smile. Her hand in his squeezed him back, holding him tight.

“Let’s go,” she said.

It was a short walk to the awning. Rhiannon stood with dignity, her other hand lightly on Molly’s head, who sat beside her keeping her guardian’s eyes on her mistress’s daughter.

“I’m ready,” Rhiannon murmured to him.

Colin nodded to Jacob, who strictly controlled the line. One by one, he began the process of sending people into the tent to see her.

Jamie and Jessie set the tone for everyone who would follow. Jamie gave her a simple nod. Jessie wished her well. Neither made a move to touch Rhiannon, and from the hushed tone of the audience, Colin decided that they were watching closely and taking note.

The real test began when the first couple of strangers approached them.

“Hello, Rhiannon,” the gentleman said politely. He wore a band major’s uniformed kilt jacket. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I was custodian at your primary school.”

Rhiannon smiled gently. “I do, Mr. Foster. Thank you for coming to the gathering.”

The Fosters moved on without dawdling. The second couple moved forward. A similar, straightforward greeting and a dignified response from Rhiannon.

Colin noticed that she kept her attention on him between the greetings. Sometimes Colin murmured in her ear, or told her light jokes. Jacob helped, too, by giving strict instructions to the people waiting in his queue.

Five minutes passed, and Rhiannon remained where she stood.

“My mother should be careful,” Rhiannon murmured lightly to him. “I may decide to take over her job permanently.”

“Excellent idea,” he replied. “Make sure to warn me so I can reserve my kilt rental in advance.”

“With your own
sgian-dubh
?”

“Extra sharp, in case I need to duel.”

“You’d need a sword for that.”

“Good thing you have an arsenal in your castle.”

She smirked, tilting her head to him. “We really are a team, aren’t we?”

They were. Oh, hell yeah, they were.

And whoever had first called Rhiannon a recluse was just dead wrong. Her fear reminded him of himself, when he began entering tournaments and he’d had to get used to focusing his nerves and performing under pressure. That was all this really was.

And then a thought caught hold of him. He wanted her to come home with him to Texas. Maybe follow him on the road for a tournament or two.

Why not? He didn’t see what everyone else saw. To him, she wasn’t a damaged woman who needed to stay within the protective walls of her castle. He saw Rhiannon. A living, breathing woman with desires, humor, strength of character. She’d been good for him, and he only hoped he was the man for her. He wanted to be committed to her. He wanted to build something with her.

He wiped his palm on his kilt. Turned around to the table behind them and poured her a drink, a dram of whisky from the laird’s private reserve. She stayed for the last of the greeting line; about a half hour total she’d stood in the heated shade.

Even Molly had given up and was lying down, panting.

“We need to fetch her some water,” Rhiannon said.

“I’ll get it,” he answered. The pipe bands were marching up the drive and toward the road that led to the village, a long snaking line. The pipes made their mourning wail and the drums kept time. The spectators who’d accompanied them walked behind; boys and girls scampered alongside, calling out in excitement.

They would all continue their day at the Highland Games, but for Colin and Rhiannon, their roles in the proceedings were finished. Colin breathed a sigh of relief.

He found the dog’s bowl in the kitchen, then filled it from the tap and brought it outside. Jessie was seated in a chair in the shade, looking fatigued. “Don’t worry about me,” Jessie said. “Jamie is bringing round the buggy to ferry me back to the cottage.”

“Great,” Colin said. Around them, the lot of relatives was fast emptying out. All the Sage cousins and aunts and uncles were climbing into their luxury cars and mini-SUVs and heading to the fairgrounds.

Just he and Rhiannon were left. As well as Paul and the caterers, but they were busy cleaning up after the event.

Colin felt her presence before she touched him; Rhiannon’s thin, bare arms wrapped around his neck, her soft, warm body pressed to his back. “Please, can we go somewhere and celebrate?” she breathed.

He turned, his body reacting instantly. She was smiling at him, flushed, excited with her success, her eyes glowing and her lips so damn willing.

Groaning, he cupped the back of her head, intent on showing restraint, being gentle, but she wiggled and pressed closer to him, and he couldn’t resist her.

He took her in deep, primal kisses, each one longer and more thrusting and sensual than the last. She was willing and eager and pliant. She wanted him, too. She felt exactly what he felt.

Fumbling in the sporran for his keys, he backed up with her until he felt the handle of the passenger door with his hip. He wanted her out of here. From his peripheral vision he saw Paul glancing their way. That was just wrong. They should be alone. They should be out of here, away from the reminder of her old life, the people who thought of her as someone and something that she wasn’t, not at heart.

“Colin, I care for you so much,” she murmured, a mixture of longing and love mingling in her eyes. It damn near killed him. “I want to get even closer to you,” she said. “As close as two people can be.” She glanced at the car behind him.

“Do you want to get inside it?” he asked. “Do you want to leave with me?”

She sighed at him, her eyes only on him. “I do,” she said.

With a nod, he opened the passenger door of his car and ushered her inside. She was smiling at him, not at all afraid. Before the mood left, he hustled around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he took her palm and kissed it. “Are you sure, Rhiannon?” he asked one more time. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I am,” she said. With wonder in her eyes, she ran her fingers over his lips.

What could he do? He kissed her, then started the engine and headed toward the guard booth.

It was a substantial guard booth, with a back room, a kitchenette, a bed, a bathroom. He’d been inside many times before, especially in his youth, with his grandfather. Now, as they zoomed past, Colin caught a glimpse of the guard stationed inside. Not his grandfather. Still, he wanted to get away from anyone who knew them.

Colin would take her into town, he decided. Check into that romantic boutique hotel where he’d meant to stay in the first place, but had somehow never found the reason to go there. Until now.

Rhiannon’s head was flung back on the seat as she stared dreamily at him. One hand was on his kilt—he could practically feel the heat of her hand through the thin scratchy wool...

Suddenly another, hired guard—one of her uncle’s security team, perhaps—stepped forward in the road and blocked the front of their car. Surprised, Colin swerved to the side, past the guard and onto the only place he could safely stop, on the shoulder of the one-lane road that led into town.

The swerving motion of the car seemed to jolt Rhiannon. As if waking from a dream, she jerked her head and stared behind her, out the back window and toward the castle, so small from the top of the drive and the boundary they’d just crossed.

A scream came out of her throat, an unholy, unearthly, bloodcurdling scream that scared the bejeezus out of Colin. With both hands, she twisted and crouched in the seat as though she was desperately trying to escape. But she was in a seat belt; all she succeeded in doing was choking herself, making it worse. The screams were like guttural cries.

His heart pumping ferociously, he whipped off his own seat belt and scrambled to get out the door and around toward the back of the car—he wanted to get to her door, open it, free her... The screaming was like nothing he’d ever heard in his life.

His hands on the back fender, he rounded the car, but he slipped on the gravel, falling into the car...

The car started rolling. The automatic transmission... Colin realized too late that he hadn’t taken the extra seconds to push the gearshift into Park. Stuck in his off-balance position, Colin couldn’t get out of the way in time. The car’s rear wheel rolled over his left foot.

He cried out—the pain was excruciating. A torrent of curses rolled out of his mouth. But Rhiannon was still struggling with her seat belt like a woman possessed, and he needed to get to her, get to the car and secure that first.

He put weight on his foot, but it couldn’t hold him. And the pain, oh, hell, the pain...

My golf tournament,
he belatedly remembered. The pro tour. His career. His tour card that if he’d been in danger of losing before, he was even more in danger now.

Everything he’d wanted, he’d worked for, he’d planned for—it was all in jeopardy. The horror of it rushed back and smacked him in the face.

The guard finally made it to the side of their car.

“Put the gear in Park,” Colin snapped at him. “And then get Rhiannon out. Get her out. Get her safely out of this car.”

“Yes, sir.” The young guard opened the door and gently freed Rhiannon, even as she clubbed and smacked him and kicked him in her state of utter panic, utter fear.

“Don’t hurt her, for God’s sake!” Colin shouted.

Rhiannon was free, on her feet, and her response was to flee, in a blind panic, sprinting past them around the gatehouse and down the drive toward the castle.

Colin put his forehead on the roadway and grimaced in pain. His foot...his frigging, messed-up foot.

“Sir? Can I help you?”

“Do you have a phone?” Colin managed to get out.

“Yes, sir. Right here.”

“Do you know Malcolm MacDowall’s mobile number?”

“I do, sir.”

“Good, phone him up for me, right now, and tell him to get here as soon as he can. And oh, hell, tell him to bring Ian McGuff with him, too, since I need a ride to the hospital. Will you do that?” he gritted out.