The Blessed Blend (24 page)

Niall shifted and asked, “Where did you learn to engage in this level of extortion?”

“From the bloody masters of it,” Euan growled. “You, Grandfathair, and Uncle Nigel. Ye three taught me the art o’ bein’ a bloody bastard! I’ve watched ye scheme an’ connive since I was in nappies, an’ I’ve seen how ye use an’ destroy people for yer ain profit an’ pleasure. Like I said to ye before, joost because I wasna playin’ the game doesna mean I dinna read the playbook ye were usin’. I know evra dirty trick, evra loophole, evra twist ye employ in the family businesses, an’ I’ll use ‘em against ye if ye try tae interfere wi’ m’ family here. To put it plainly, ye fook wi’ me an’ mine an’ I’ll fook ye o’er royally.”

Euan looked across the room at Caleb. “I ken m’ parents are ready tae depart. Would ye pass that along tae their driver?”

Caleb nodded and went to the kitchen.

Looking at Niall and Leona, Euan said, “This is m’ home now, these people are m’ kin, an’ this is the life I’ve chosen. If ye canna accept it, its yer problem an’ nae mine.”

Inclining his head towards Callie, he continued, “This woman is m’ lawful wife, which I’m sure yer investigator has already proven t’ ye, an’ as the Gude Book says, mine tae cleave tae a’ m’ days. If ye reject her, ye reject me. An’ if ye insult her or her kin, ye insult me as well. Now, I believe ye’ve been asked tae leave. I’d advise ye tae do it before yer forced tae. If it comes doon t’ it, I’ll throw ye oot m’self.” With that Euan walked over and put his hand on the front door.

Niall and Leona rose stiffly and put their coats on, stalking out of the house without another word. Just as Niall stepped off the last step he turned to Euan and stated icily, “Game on, Euan.”

As the Escalade made its way to the narrow road to return his parents to whatever airport their private jet was parked at, Euan shook his head.

Jim asked, “What did he mean, ‘game on’?”

With a sigh Euan replied, “He means that they intend to take us doon by whatever means necessary.” He paused for a moment before adding, “An’ its most likely m’ bairns they’re coming after.”

Callie asked, “Do you really have that kind of dirt on them or was that just a bluff?”

Euan smiled slyly, “I have enough dirt on ‘em tae fill in the bloody sea, wife. An’ since they’ve decided tae pick a fight I guess I might as well throw the first punch. They’ll be in hot water before they get back home.”

Turning to Jim he asked, “May I use my phone in yer quarters? I need t’ make a private call.”

Jim tipped his head in that direction and Euan excused himself. Pulling out his cell phone he looked up a number for James Kilkirk, the one only certain clients had. When Kilkirk answered, Euan described what had happened and his concerns. “Can they take custody o’ m’ bairns?” he asked.

“They can’t even sue for it here until paternity is proven and dual citizenship is approved,” Kilkirk replied. “Even then, there has to be a thorough investigation of any claims they make. The courts are not going to remove children from their parents without good cause no matter how wealthy the plaintiffs are.”

“Well, I ha’ nae been exactly a model citizen,” Euan stated. “I hae been the black sheep o’ the family, ye ken. After Callie left me, I did a lot of drinkin’ an’ birdin’.”

“Any scrapes with the law?” Kilkirk asked.

“Nae,” Euan responded. “But nae was I an ootstandin’ member o’ the community. I worked the croft and hung aboot wi’ the lads.”

“And these lads?”

“Workin’ class.” Euan paused. “Good lads, but nae a yin o’ ‘em from m’ family’s peers.”

“Hardly anything to condemn you with, lad. And your wife?” Kilkirk queried.

“Red Indian an’ Scots on her grandfathair’s side, Melungeon on her grandmathair’s, an’ her stepfather is Cherokee Indian,” Euan said. “Nae legal scrapes there either. Nae alcohol or drug abuse. Nae moral turpitude. Callie’s people are hard-working, humble, an’ stable. The only fault she has is a wee bit o’ temper an’ a stubborn streak a kilometer wide an’ twice as deep.”

Kilkirk paused, thinking. He had dealt with divorce and custody issues among the upper classes enough to know how ugly things could get.
 
The Wallaces were part of the British arm of a global financial system and had plenty of political and social clout despite lacking noble status. Once Euan’s children received dual citizenship, they might use that clout to sue for custody of their grandchildren through the British courts. They probably wouldn’t win, but they could make it very nasty indeed for Euan and his wife, who didn’t have the vast wealth and resources that the Wallaces had.

“Euan, I think that you should wait on applying for dual citizenship for your children. If they aren’t British citizens, your parents cannot use the courts here to sue for custody. I will also hire an investigator to assess the suitability of you and your wife as parents -”

“Ye’ll
what!?”
Euan interjected. “I’ve only been a da for the past seven weeks, bu’ Callie hae been an excellent mathair! D’ ye ken tha’ m’ bairns can already read and do basic math at only three years auld?”

“So the children are advanced for their age?”

“Aye!” Euan averred. “They doona talk o’ act like most three year auld bairns, bu’ like they be nearly grown. Their mathair herself is verra intelligent as are her parents and oother family members.”

“And how do the two of you support your children?” Kilkirk asked.

“I hae m’ trust accounts and investments, an’ Callie’s family runs a retreat here in the Appalachians. The whole immediate family partners in it, an’ I’m part o’ that noo m’self,” Euan informed Kilkirk.

“And your home?”

“We’re stayin’ with m’ in-laws until we get oor ain hoose built, bu’ Callie has her ain parcel o’ land an’ her ain livestock.”

Kilkirk nodded to himself and then offered Euan his expert advice. “Don’t come back to the UK until you have everything set up to convince a court that your children have a fit and proper home. You need to have your own domicile and show that you have a decent income and adequate community resources.”

“Community resources?”

“Schools, health care, cultural influences, and the like.”

Well, there was a problem. The schools were grossly underfunded which was why Callie was adamant about teaching her children at home. There were few local healthcare providers and the local hospital was a rather small facility. There were plenty of Appalachian cultural influences and events as well as a couple of local museums but no opera, ballet, or theater troupes.

Euan relayed this information to Kilkirk, who mulled it over for a moment. “You’ll have to use the premise of the local culture being necessary for the children’s ethnic identity,” he advised. “If they come from a unique ethnic background, which it appears they do, removing them from it would be an act of prejudice.”

“To remove them from
us
would be an act of prejudice,” Euan stated. “There’s nae reason behind this oother than m’ parents usin’ m’ bairns tae punish me an’ m’ wife for choosin’ tae build a life together, an’ they’re bein’ absolute bastards aboot it.”

“Then that’s what the court would need to see, lad,” Kilkirk said. “You keep your nose clean and let them hang themselves.”

“Speakin’ o’ hangin’ themselves,” Euan said, “would ye mind sendin’ those packages on tae the proper persons? I’d like m’ parents tae hae’ a nice surprise waitin’ for them when they return.”

“Are you sure, lad? It will cause quite a scandal, you know.”

Euan took a deep breath. “If they’ve got their hands full with their ain business, it’ll keep them oot o’ mine,” he said. “Besides, I doubt the courts will award custody to those accused o’ criminal acts or floutin’ the law.”

Kilkirk chuckled. “I always knew you had it in you to be a dirty bastard, Euan,” he said. “Are you sure you want to be just a crofter? You’ve got the teeth to be a shark, my lad.”

“But oonly when I’m oot for blood, and I’m oonly oot for blood when it concerns m’ family,” Euan replied.

The next day dawned cold and clear with little to no wind. Caleb, Eli, and both Mikes were in charge of getting the fires going in the woodstoves in order to have the temperature in the tent on the cool side of comfortable by the time of the ceremony. Layla and Lacie were in charge of getting Callie and the twins ready, which included styling Callie’s and Mountain Rose’s tresses.

The night before the wedding, after some discussion and at least one argument, it was decided that Callie would wear her hair down with large loose curls.
    
Callie had stewed while the two self-appointed stylists rolled her hair up on large curlers and then used a large kerchief to hold them in place while she slept. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep with all of this on my head?” Callie griped. “I won’t be able to lay down, for Pete’s sake!”

“But you want to look beautiful for your wedding!” Lacie had said.

“Really?” Callie had snapped. “How beautiful am I going to look with dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep? Get this crap out of my damned hair and just braid it to make it wavy!”

After some more argument, Callie took the curlers out herself and braided her hair in a single tight plait. The way she had always worn it.

As Layla brushed Callie’s hair out that morning she said, “It would have looked awesome curled, sis. Sometimes you gotta sacrifice some comfort for style.”

“Yeah, and sometimes style is way over-rated,” Callie retorted.

Jolena had made a bridal bouquet as well as a crown of silk flowers in ivory, blue, and pink to match Callie’s dress, each with streamers of the same colors of ribbons used on the dress. Annabelle had brought a woven sash belt from Qualla Boundary in those same colors.

Callie would wear her Robertson tartan sash across her shoulder, held in place with a gold brooch with ruby and emerald cabochons that had been given to her by the Laird of Clan Robertson that summer she spent in Scotland. He had been one of those who had witnessed her facing off with the MacLaughlin ruffian and deemed her a worthy member of the clan. It was a gift of honor and Callie had worn it with her regalia ever since. It seemed especially appropriate to wear it on her wedding day since that event was the reason she had met Euan.

Callie and Darlene had made Mountain Rose a child’s Tear Dress in a pale blue calico with ivory cut-work panels and the same ribbon work as that on her mother’s dress. She would wear a floral crown and carry a bouquet which was a miniature of Callie’s. Euan had given her a Wallace Blue tartan sash, which was his favorite out of the several Wallace patterns with its soft blue and green plaid.

The girl wanted to wear both the Robertson and the Wallace tartan sashes and had some difficulty accepting that it was customary to wear just one at a time.
   
“Well, I think that’s a dumb rule,” she pouted. “I like them both!”

Euan wanted Red Wolf to wear the Wallace Blue kilt he had bought for him but the child balked. Used to his Cherokee regalia - ribbon shirt, apron-style breech clout, and leggings - worn with a tartan sash, he was hesitant to wear the kilt, sporran, and dress jacket which would have matched his father’s. Callie asked him to at least try it on once, promising that if he still didn’t like it they would figure something out something else for him to wear.

Darlene suggested that Euan get dressed to model his attire so that the boy had an idea of how it would look.
 
Euan put on his kilt, shirt, and jacket while Callie dressed Red Wolf. Father and son stood side by side looking at themselves and each other in Darlene’s dressing mirror. Callie had thought it almost eerie how much alike the two were as they stood there: same expression, same stance, the son almost an exact replica of his father. As long as Red Wolf lived, Euan Wallace would walk the earth long after his own passing.

After thinking about it, Red Wolf decided to wear the outfit Euan had given him. Since his father had not bought him a pair of ghillie-brogues, the child would wear his new beaded moccasins. He also wanted to wear the shell gorget his Uncle CD, Jim’s cousin, had made for him.

Callie prepared to brush Euan’s hair for him and as he sat down on the chair in their room she requested that he wear shorts under his kilt in the interest of modesty. Euan raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are ye afeart I’ll gi’e someone a fright there, lass?”

“Not hardly,” she answered, giving his locks a yank and smiling as he protested. “Although you
might
want to consider the frost-bite factor. Besides which, folks over here are a bit more modest about their privates than folks in Europe and you know damned well that some of the little kids are going to try to look up under it. You don’t need to give folks something like that to gossip about.”

Nancy Jo rushed into the room and scolded Callie, “Don’t you know its bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” Nancy Jo had a tendency to make mountains out of molehills when she was excited or nervous. This morning she was quite a bit of both.

Callie grinned wickedly and purred, “Well, I’d say it’s a bit late to be worrying about that.
 
He saw me buck-naked this morning when we woke up. Besides, we’re already married. This is just a celebration for the family.”

As Nancy Jo continued fussing, Callie pulled Euan’s hair into a pony tail with an elastic band before lacing up a fine leather wrap around it. Giving him a kiss, she departed and left him and Red Wolf to finish their preparations while she tended to her own.

As Red Wolf watched his father put on his sporran and tuck his sgan dubh into his hose, he asked, “Is that true about the bad luck, Daddy?”

Euan shook his head. “Nae son, it’s joost an auld wives’ tale.” Noticing his son’s solemn face he asked, “Are ye worried aboot somethin’, Red Wolf?”

Red Wolf nodded. “My other grandparents are coming for us, to take us away from you and Mama.”

Euan knelt down and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “D’ ye ken that?” he asked.

Red Wolf nodded. “I saw it in my dream,” he said softly. “They have a paper to take us away, but the words aren’t real.”

“Wha’ d’ ye mean, ‘aren’t real’?” Euan queried, perplexed. God Almighty, he’d kill his parents himself if they showed up to disrupt the wedding let alone take his children.

“When the sheriff looked at the paper, the words disappeared.” Red Wolf looked perplexed himself. “What kind of paper would they have?”

Euan reached for his cell phone. “I’m aboot tae find oot,” he said grimly. Punching in the number he reached Kilkirk on the fourth ring.

“Kilkirk here.”

“This is Euan Wallace. Can ye find oot for me if m’ parents hae gotten a legal order of custody on m’ bairns.”

Kilkirk coughed. “How would they have gotten one this soon and on a weekend?” he asked. “And without proper notification of my office?”

“Tha’s wha’ I called tae find oot,” Euan stated. “I doona trust ‘em one bit an’ I hae reason tae believe that they may try to show up today with some sort o’ paper tryin’ tae get custody.”

“Give me one hour and I’ll find out if they got anything from this end or through the Embassy there in the States. If they show up, call me immediately and request that local law enforcement provide enough time to determine the legality of any writ or order presented,” Kilkirk requested. “And Euan?”

“Aye?”

“Don’t lose your head under any circumstances,” the solicitor warned.

“Aye, sir,” Euan replied. “But I canna be responsible for how m’ wife’s family may react. These people arre used to taking care o’ their ain business.”

There was a brief pause before Kilkirk said, “Understood, lad. Just try to keep it from coming to that, will you?”

As Euan hung up he looked at Red Wolf. “Son, go tell yer Granny Robertson and Granny Stockett aboot yer dream. They already ken aboot yesterday’s events. They’ll make sense o’ it an’ decide hoo tae deal wi’ it.”

Red Wolf nodded and said “Yes sir,” as he headed for the door.

“Red Wolf?”

“Sir?”

“Remember wha’ I told ye yesterday aboot stayin’ wi’ yer mathair or me. Ye an’ Mountain Rose must stay wi’ us or yer grandparents or great-grandparents at all times. D’ ye understand?”

“Yes sir.” Red Wolf closed the door behind him.

Euan’s mood was grave. He still didn’t understand his children’s abilities but he trusted their validity. It would be exactly like his parents to try to present some order, authentic or not, to manipulate the situation in their favor and failing that, kidnap the children and take off somewhere beyond the reach of the authorities. All for spite and their own over-inflated sense of self-importance.

Jim knocked on the door. “Euan, are you about ready, son?” he asked.

Euan invited his father-in-law in and told him about Red Wolf’s dream. “I called m’ solicitor an’ he’ll call me back within an hour,” he advised. “Is there any way they could get some sort of court order locally?”

Jim drew in a deep breath. “We only have one judge and that’s Judge Connelly. If someone had come to him for something like that he would have called to ask what was going on before even looking at the petition.” He thought a moment and added, “Of course if they went to the federal court house in Knoxville to see a judge that’s another story.”

“Today is Sunday, Da. They couldnae hae gotten an order for a personal matter on the weekend, could they?”

“Depends on who they know that could pull some strings for them,” Jim responded. “Still, there’s a proper procedure that has to be followed before the court could allow the children to be taken out of the country.”

“An’ who’s tae stop m’ parents from
 
flying tae the Caribbean wi’ ‘em, beyond the reach o’ the authorities?” Euan asked.

“Well, Judge Connelly will be here today, so if something comes up he can order a stay until things get sorted out,” Jim said. “He used to be a federal prosecutor, so he knows the system and isn’t cowed by it, and law enforcement around here defers to him.”

 
Euan swore and said, “It’d be joost like the bloody pair o’ ‘em tae pull somethin’ like that oon m’ wedding day.”

Jim smiled and patted Euan on the shoulder. “Pack takes care of its own,” he advised. “If it comes up, we’ll handle it.”

When Jim went back downstairs he pulled Caleb over. “Get down to the foot of the road and tell Mike C and Mike D not to let Euan’s folks in here. If they show up, they’re to call up here on the two-way. Get them a freshly-charged pair in just in case, and tell them to go on and close the gate.”

As Caleb started to leave Jim warned, “And if the Wallaces show up with law enforcement, they’re to ask for a warrant and verified ID. Since I’m the property owner, I’ll come down myself to check it out and let them in.”

Caleb nodded and hurried out the door. Jumping in the truck, he headed down the mountain to the main gate. He’d had a sneaking suspicion himself that Euan’s parents would make trouble and apparently something was up that was making that look likely.

Like the rest of the Robertson men, he didn’t have the
gift
like the women did but he had an uncanny sense of discernment and empathy. A smile crossed his face as he thought of the Robertson women, especially his great-grandmother and great-great-aunts. If those fancy folks thought they’d waltz in and pull a fast one to take Callie’s kids, they were in for a shock they’d never get over.

If they survived it, that is. And if that didn’t take care of them, Callie would. Her
gift
was erratic and she had trouble controlling it but he knew about her ability to deliver those stinging jolts when she was in a deep enough rage, having been on the receiving end of a few of them. She wouldn’t need that to kill anyone, though.

She could do that with her bare hands.

He met the preacher coming up the road and pulled over to let Brother Wilcox pass. “How’re you’uns this fine day?” Brother Wilcox asked. “Is yore sister ready for her big day?”

Caleb smiled. Brother Wilcox was soft-spoken, good-natured, sober, and devout, one of the few folks he knew of who called themselves Christian and actually managed to live it. He and his wife were frequent visitors to homes in the area, bringing whatever food or other needs that they could scrape together for the needy in the community, which was an awful lot of folks these days. The preacher wasn’t above rolling up his shirt-sleeves and pitching in with whatever work was being done wherever he was at.

Brother and Mrs. Wilcox had never had any children of their own, but saw it as God’s desire that they devote themselves more fully to the saving of souls. The good reverend had had some spirited debates with Jim and Callie, neither of whom put much stock in what they referred to as
churchianity
. They respected the Wilcox’s as folks who walked their talk, however, and treated them accordingly.

“As ready as she’ll ever be,” Caleb replied. “We’re glad to have her husband in the family. He’s a pretty cool dude.”

Brother Wilcox turned to his wife and smiled before turning back to Caleb. “We’ve had the pleasure of meetin’ the feller and we’re especially happy that they’re making things right by the Lord for them young’uns,” he said. “Y’all missed a good sermon this mornin’ so you know I got to do a little preachin’ here!”