Boldly Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Leannan

"That is not true," Lorna said heatedly, almost wishing there was something nearby to slam for emphasis. "I'm not anyone's girl."

"Well… no offense, Lorna… may I call you Lorna?" the not entirely-welcome young man was rather forward, in spite of his seeming nervousness.

"Ye may not," Lorna answered, more quietly this time. He made no acknowledgement of her answer, continuing on where he had left off.

"Naturally, seein' ya with him so many times, an' at the school raisin' too, I just assumed. But if I was wrong, I was meanin' t'… well, I was hopin'…" he hesitated and his face grew very red. Very. It was a rather ridiculous combination with his sandy hair.

"If ye're meanin' t' ask if ye can come calling, then ye dinna have t' bother," Lorna interposed. She was rather annoyed. After all, it was the third time this week. And Mrs. Sullivan wasn't always around to shoo them off. This particular young man had accosted her just as she was leaving school that afternoon. But Lorna wasted no time in telling him, and in no uncertain terms, that she was not interested.

"Well, that's one less t' worry about," she sighed as she watched him walk away. "Willna be long before I've gotten through practically everyone in town."

It was getting rather frustrating. How on earth would she make it clear to everyone that she had no intention of accepting callers or of getting married at all? While still remaining polite and considerate, that is. And she knew her temper often got the best of her. Nearly equally as frustrating was the report circulating town that she was, as they termed it, "Jason McCulloch's gal." She attempted to put these rumors to rest whenever she heard them, after all, he was just a good friend… but they continued to persist.

Lorna was practically fuming by the time she neared Mrs. Sullivan's, when the sound of a wagon to her side caused her to turn.

"Good afternoon, Miss McAllister" She temporarily forgot her troubles as she smiled and returned the greeting. At least she could be assured that Josh Danby wouldn't ask to come calling. Laura and Benjie were poking their dark heads from the wagon bed, showing their dimples as they smiled shyly.

"Ilse sent me into town after ya," Josh continued, grinning. "She's been a-busy bakin' all day an' wanted ya t' come out fer a visit an' t' help us eat some of it."

Lorna went without hesitation and Ilse came running from the house to meet her as if they had been friends all their lives.

"Guten tag, lieber freund!" she cried and Lorna laughed.

"I canna speak German. What did ye say?"

"Good afternoon, dear friend," Ilse grinned. "I forget… sometimes…"

"Well, in that case, feasgar math, caraid dileas." Lorna returned. "I ken how hard it is t' climb th' culture barriers sometimes. An' America has the most unbelievable conglomeration of cultures that I ever saw."

It is surprising how, when women get together, they seem sometimes to forget that they are women, and think they are only girls again. Such laughter and a crazy mix of German and Gaelic filled the Danby's little house that evening as Lorna helped Ilse with the supper and, afterwards, with washing and drying the dishes.

"When you marry," Ilse was saying as she buried herself elbow-deep in the dishwater, "You must live close, jah? Then we can be together often. Now, the closest neighbor on one side is a rancher with no wife or children... Jason McCulloch… and on the other side… the forest. It gets lonely out here. Not another woman within seven miles. I can scarcely belief that we are so far… so far that the children, they cannot even walk to school. Josh has to drive them in."

"I dinna intend t' ever get married," Lorna sighed. "But I will come out here as often as I can. If only I had a horse… then I could come more often."

"Then you must get a horse," Ilse cried impulsively. "There are a lot of ranchers around here that would sell you one. And then you could come… every Saturday night, jah?"

"Perhaps," Lorna grinned as she laid the stack of tin plates in the cupboard. "I'll have t' see how much I've saved up. Och, Ilse, it's sae good to have a friend!"

---

Lorna went for a walk on a Friday evening. Unfortunately, stated simply as fact, that sounds like a dull thing. But to Lorna, it was a moment spun of pure magic. The hills were aflame with crimson and gold between the stately evergreens and the cool winds of autumn bent the trees gracefully, stirring the branches gently. The trees were whispering to each other… whispering the secrets of a thousand years. The joys, the sorrows, the fears. Lorna's soul thrilled to the very sound of the wind in the trees.

She made her way slowly to the meadow… the clearing where, not long ago, she had met Hank Mulligan. There was something about that meadow that called to her. And soon she stood in the center of that meadow, at the foot of a gently-sloping hill that rose up and on to meet the horizon. The sun was just beginning to set in all its flaming glory and all around her were the shadows of the past. They all seemed very near suddenly… very near… and Lorna reached up to touch her locket.

"Lorna Jean, my bonnie lassie. Yer sae much like yer mother… those big green wistful eyes an' that fiery spirit. Ye have courage… sae much courage, my lassie. An' yet yer heart is so sensitive. Learn, my daughter, t' always keep that courage… f' I might not always be near ye."

"Aye, da, I will always keep my courage," Lorna murmured, smiling softly at the memory of her father's words. She had rebelled against them, when he had first said them, rebelled against the thought of her father not always being near. And he had laughed at her.

"Och, my lass, I dinna intend t' leave ye anytime soon. Ye dinna have t' get sae fired up." And Lorna laughed at the memory. Then another came… so vivid in its intensity.

"Lorna, leannan, will ye promise me something?"

"Anythin', Robbie."

"Will ye promise t' stay with me forever?"

"Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth… forever an' always."

"We belong to each other, Lorna, leannan. Forever an' always."

"Lorna."

"Aye, Robbie?" Lorna's heart nearly stopped beating, for the voice was so close, just behind her… as if he were really there. She turned, slowly, unwilling to wrench herself from the vision… but it was Jason who stood there. She drew a deep, shaky breath, willing herself to return to reality… but it was hard. So hard. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away.

"Is somethin' wrong, Lorna?" He dismounted from his pony and stepped forward.

"No… no… I'm fine," she returned, smiling up at him. "Just out fer a walk. This… this is my favorite spot… sae beautiful. Puts me in mind o' a special place… far away in th' Highlands. Really, all that's lacking is th' heather."

"Well, I'll have t' see what I can do about that," Jason sounded serious and Lorna was surprised. But she changed the subject.

"Th' Danbys' live close t' here, aye?"

"Just over that hill," Jason waved his hand in the general direction. "This is where my property borders theirs."

"Ilse an' I have become such good friends," Lorna smiled at the mere thought of her friend. "I thought I'd run over t' see her."

"It's a seven-mile walk back t' town an' gettin' dark," Jason frowned at the setting sun.

"Alas, there's not much I can really do about it," Lorna shrugged with a laugh. "I wish Ilse lived closer t' town."

"If ya had a horse, then it wouldn't matter so much." Lorna said nothing, simply nodded in agreement. "D'ya have a place t' keep one? If… if ya had one, that is."

"Mrs. Sullivan has stables out back," Lorna answered. "Maybe I'll get one someday, if I can save up enough."

"What d'ya think of this little mare?" Jason nodded toward the pony that stood still, just behind him. Lorna stepped up to the pony, reaching out to touch the slender neck. The misty gray of the pony's coat put her in mind of the mist that lay over the bay near Aberdeen.

"She's purty young, but I've gentled her t' ride… a child could manage her. She's a sweet horse."

"What d'ye call her?" Lorna was unable to take her eyes from the little pony as she stretched her head out to nuzzle Lorna's hand, with a soft nicker.

"I… uh… didn't really name her. Just have called her… th' gray mare."

"That's nae name fer such a pretty little pony," Lorna laughed at him, then turned back to the pony. "Leannan." she whispered.

"What?"

"Leannan," she repeated, louder. "It's Gaelic fer… fer sweetheart."

"Ya like her then?"

"She's… beautiful."

"Then she's yours."

Lorna could scarce believe his words at first and he had to repeat them. With a sudden cry of joy, she threw her arms around him, impulsively, then stepped back suddenly, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks.

"Och, but I canna. Such a gift… I dinna think I could repay ye."

"Don't ya dare try an' talk me out of it," Jason answered with mock severity. "I warn ya, once I make up my mind, I never change it. So, yer stuck with her, whether ya like it or not."

Lorna felt as if she could hug him again, then thought better of it, and put her arms around the pony's neck.

"Leannan." she repeated, smiling. "Aye, a perfect name. Leannan. Thank ye… Jason. So much."