Summer of Love (24 page)

    
"Oh, Helen, how horrible for you!" Seeing the tears form in her sister’s
eyes, she embraced her.

    
After a while Helen murmured between sobs: "By now, he has already left
for America… It’s over. I shall never see him again."

    
Betty broke the embrace. "But he hasn’t left, Helen. Yesterday … and the
day before, and today, I saw a horse graze at the lochan."

    
Helen stared at her sister in dismay. "No Betty! Why did you tell me?"
and she rushed away, her feelings suddenly in utter turmoil.
Why didn’t he
leave? Why is he so cruel? What else does he want?

    
That night she cried herself to sleep in Betty’s arms.

    
However, next morning, after completing her chores, she asked Betty to
keep an eye on things, and Betty did not ask her why. She climbed to the
ridge overlooking the lochan, while inside her conflicting feelings and
allegiances fought a bitter battle. A horse was peacefully grazing near the
water. Andrew sat at the edge of the rock, looking down over the water. He
got up and waved with both hands. Then, his call "Helen" reached her from
across the valley, its echoes urging her on. Without any further thought she
scampered down the steep slope, while he ran down the path from the rock.
He caught her in his arms. If she did have any resolve when she had set out
to confirm her sister’s sightings, it was blown into the wind once his hungry
embrace kindled her own irresistible passion. She felt the sudden ache in her
groin, ready to yield to him, hearing at the same time the silent scream of her
conscience. Struggling to free herself, she cried: "Andrew, don’t. You are my
brother!"

    
He loosened his embrace, raised her chin so that she was forced to meet
his eyes, and said: "No, I’m not. Your mother is mistaken."

    
She took a step back. "I don’t believe she would have lied to me … not on
that."

    
"She doesn’t know herself, but her boy died a week old."

    
"You are just saying that."

    
"Have I ever lied to you? … I met the woman who helped deliver me. She
said that I was born about six months after your mother left the castle. She
said your mother never saw her own boy and that he died shortly after she
was sent home."

    
Shaken, she hesitated for a moment and then entered into his outstretched
arms. "How horrible," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder, and
then raised her head again, searching Andrew’s eyes. "Is it true? Andrew, is
it true?"

    
"Yes, Helen, I swear to God it is true… Helen, I love you. I love you more
than ever." He kissed her. At first she tried to resist, but then responded with
equal urgency, a dam of pent-up passion bursting and sweeping away all
resolve, all restraint, all inhibitions. Her blood seared in her veins. She
pressed her body against his. He carried her swiftly a few steps to a patch of
soft grass and lay halfway on top of her, repeating between kisses "I love
you, Helen", and she echoed "I love you, Andrew".

    
She sensed his urge to fuse with her, met by her own craving to be one
with him. In a frenzy they undressed each other. She was ready for the tender
touch of his soft hands, as he skillfully made her soar to greater and greater
heights. Suddenly, she wanted him inside her and reached for him, exploding
into ecstasy almost instantly. She felt him catching up with her, and then
suddenly withdraw—a symbol of their doomed love—his manhood pulsing
against her belly, his warm fluid spilling onto her, his head nestled into the
crook of her neck.

    
After a while, he moved off her and let his head rest on her bosom, while
his index traced patterns on her stomach. "I ... l .. o .. v .. e ... y .. o .. u," she
deciphered. He lifted his head and searched her eyes. They were like coals,
radiating love. She kissed him.

    
Then he pulled her up. "I’ll race you to the water."

    
She laughed and pushed him back into the heather. They dived into the
water together and broke the surface face to face, laughing, oblivious to its
icy cold, embracing, kissing, separating, diving again, chasing each other,
coming together for another embrace—the playful game of lovers for the
moment before the cold drove them out.

    
Lying intertwined in the grass, Helen asked reproachfully: "Andrew, why
are you still here? Why haven’t you left?"

    
"I tried, Helen. I really tried, but I could not. I couldn’t leave you… Helen,
come with me to America."

    
Could she leave and never see her family again? Leave Betty, her best
friend. Could she live with her shame of breaking the promise made before
God. Worse, could she betray the honor of her family by marrying one of the
hated Campbells, be an outcast forever? "I can’t. I solemnly promised in
front of the priest to marry Robert."

    
"Why do you then come to me?"

    
"Because when I know you’re here, I’m weak. Because when I’m with
you, I’m under a spell. Because this is to remember for the rest of my life."

    
He kissed her. "I love you, Helen, more than anything, more than my own
life. Come with me!"

    
Ignoring his plea, she searched his eyes. "Andrew, you must promise now
that you’ll leave tomorrow and never come back."

    
"How can I deny my love for you?"

    
"You don’t have to deny it. You can keep it in your heart. But you must
leave. We can’t continue like this."

    
"Oh, Helen. I want you. I need you. Come with me! Be my wife!"

    
Say ‘yes’ cried her heart, but she freed herself and rose. "No, Andrew, I
can’t, and I won’t come back to the lochan again."

    
She put on her petticoat and jacket. He got dressed too. They stood
awkwardly in front of each other.

    
"One more kiss, Helen?"

    
"No, Andrew. Never again." She briefly brushed his cheek and dashed
away, before he could grab her. She ran until she reached the crest. Only then
did she look back, her vision blurred. He was still standing at the same place.

 * * *

That same evening, Robert came up to the shielings to visit. Donald, one of
the young lads, greeted him with a gleeful smirk, teasing him: "I saw you and
Helen swim in the lochan today."

    
Robert laughed: "Donald, I wish it was true, but you saw somebody else.
I wasn’t at the lochan. Mind you, I think it’s a great idea. I feel like cooling
off." He winked at the boy, adding in a low tone: "I’ll ask Helen to come."

    
"But I saw you two, Robert," the boy insisted, "and later on I saw Helen
come back from the lochan."

    
The grin left Robert’s face. His eyes narrowed. "What did you say, boy?"
he asked threateningly.

    
Frightened, the boy took a few steps back. "I saw you and Helen swim
naked in the lake." And then he ran away.

    
Betty overheard the exchange and quickly dashed into the hut. "Robert’s
here and Donald told him that he saw you swimming with a man in the
lochan."

    
Helen blanched.

    
"You met Andrew again. Helen, what did you do?"

    
Before she could answer, Robert’s angry face appeared at the hut opening.

    
"Get out!" he growled at Betty.

    
She left with a last worried look at Helen. He brushed past her and took
Helen’s wrists in an iron grip, shaking her. "With whom did you swim in the
lochan, lass?"

    
"With nobody… Robert, let go! You’re hurting me."

    
She struggled to free herself. He tightened his grip.

    
"You’re lying. Donald saw you with a man."

    
"Donald is wrong. I was alone… Robert, this hurts!"

    
He pushed her roughly against the wall. She screamed frightened, as her
head hit the rough wood. "Robert, stop it! You’ve no right to treat me like
this."

    
"I’ve all the rights. We’re betrothed, and you’re cheating on me even
before we’re married," he scowled, advancing again.

    
She tried to slip past him. He grabbed her arm, shoving her again sharply
against the wall. Her face betrayed her fear and increasing anger. This
seemed to stir him on even more.

    
"Who was it? Or do I have to beat it out of you?"

    
"You dare touch me and our wedding is off for good!" she hissed.

 
    
"Ha, your father’s sure to back me up on this! You want me to tell him
about you swimming with another man in the lochan? Naked? Did he have
you?"

    
"I told you. I was alone. Donald is wrong. He was probably too excited to
see me naked."

    
"You’re a liar!" he shouted. "You can’t fool me that easily. I know you
saw another man, the same one you met at the dance. That’s why you’ve
been so strange lately." He went to the hut opening, where he turned briefly.
"I’ll find out. His days are numbered as surely as my name is Robert
MacGregor. Nobody steals my woman."

    
He stormed out. Helen watched him hurry away in the direction of the
clachan. Betty joined her again.

    
"Helen, why did you see Andrew again? And what did you two do at the
lochan?" Betty looked at her reproachfully. Helen just stood there, her eyes
empty, her hands hanging down, her body trembling. "What are you going
to do now? Robert is sure going to tell father."

    
"Nothing," murmured Helen. "Andrew isn’t coming back. They’ll never
find out." Her voice sounded unsure in spite of the words.

    
"And what about you and Robert?"

    
Helen shrugged her shoulders.

    
"Do you love him at all?"

    
Again, Helen answered with a shrug. "I thought I was fond of him, before
Andrew came back… Now, I don’t know anymore. All I know is that he
frightens me when he has one of his bad tempers."

    
"Oh, Helen! What have you done?"

    
Betty rushed to her and took into her arms. In the security of the embrace,
Helen let go and sobbed.

 * * *

Early next morning, Mary appeared on the shielings, her face somber, closed
off. She did not greet her two daughters and her youngest son. Her only
words were to order Helen to come with her to the clachan. On their way
down, she questioned her daughter. But Helen insisted on her story.

    
"Lass, I know that you’re lying. You’ve met with master Andrew up there
again. One of the men has seen a lone rider heading into the hills each day,
ever since Sunday. They’ll be watching, and if he goes to the lochan again
there will be a killing."

    
He won’t come again. They won’t catch him, Helen tried to reassure
herself, but deep down lingered the nagging fear that he might anyway. What
then? Mother said there will be a killing. Oh no! Her heart was all of a
sudden pounding away high in her chest. She said a silent prayer that he
wouldn’t come again. It did little to calm her fears.

    
She was ordered into the fields with the other women. They all seemed to
watch her closely. Midmorning, her father dropped by. Helen braced herself
mentally to be taken to task, but he only stared with a dark frown and told
Mary that he and the boys were off. He did not say where, but there was a
fierce look in his eyes.

 * * *

Andrew was back at the lochan on Friday in spite of Helen’s promise that she
wouldn’t come again. It didn’t matter to him. Just knowing that she was
close was soothing. He tried to read, but found it hard to keep with it. His
mind tended to drift. At noon he took a few bites from the generous lunch the
inn keeper had prepared —enough for two people. He read some more.