Wedded to the Highlanders by Katie Douglas

Chapter 8

After Steen left, Lucy felt a lot less despondent about the bake sale. He had reassured her three entire days were more than enough to make the amount of cakes she'd intended.

"Right, lassie, let's get you back to your folks," Hugh said gently, lifting her out of bed and carrying her the same way as before. She held onto him as he navigated the narrow staircase in his cottage, and let him take her across the village. As they moved through the village square in the fading late-evening light, one or two villagers were still out walking dogs or running minor errands, and they winked at Lucy, and tipped their hats to Hugh.

"Nice tae see you both together, at long last!" Edith Milton said, as she stepped out of the butcher's shop with a newspaper and began cleaning the windows.

"We're not..." Lucy began, but then she looked up at Hugh. "Are we together?" she asked.

"It depends," Hugh replied softly. "Are you ever going tae forgive yourself for losing my cat?"

He lifted her up, so her face almost touched his, and he kissed her passionately on the lips, so Lucy felt an instant rush of warmth to her nether regions as the rest of her completely melted in his strong arms. It was the most romantic kiss she'd ever experienced and the amount of love he'd poured into that one gesture lingered on her lips long after he pulled away.

"I suppose that answers my question," Lucy remarked, snuggling into Hugh as he carried her back to her house.

He rapped on the door and she giggled. "Ye dinnae need tae do that!"

"It's polite," he replied.

She sighed but she wasn't annoyed. The way he stood on ceremony and wanted everything to be done properly was quite adorable. Papa Jim answered the door.

"Lucy? Are ye well, lassie?" The concern in his voice made her feel guilty for worrying him.

"Aye, Pa, I just hurt my ankle. Nothing tae fret aboot."

"Here, lad, get her upstairs. Her room's first on the left."

***

Hugh stepped inside Lucy's home for the first time ever, and he smiled. Her parents had made it quite cosy. In the small entrance hall, the granite walls had been adorned with homemade cross stitched pictures, and drawings that had probably been done by Dughall Muir, the local artist.

Upstairs, Hugh paused for a moment.

"Aye, this way," Lucy told him, nodding towards her door.

He turned the handle to her room, and carefully manoeuvred her inside.

There was a small, neat bed covered in a tartan quilt, and a big wardrobe beside the sash window. Aside from those, the room contained one upright chair, probably part of a dining set, and a sweet framed picture of a dog hanging above the head of the bed, beside the door.

"Ye like dogs, aye?" He nodded toward the picture.

"There's definitely something special aboot them. Never had one, though."

She sounded wistful, and Hugh wondered how long she'd yearned for a pet of her own. The silence endured for a little longer than was comfortable.

"Anyway, lassie, it's time for me to leave, but I'll visit tomorrow tae check on ye, aye?"

"Aye. And... thank you, Hugh. For finding me and bringing me back tae Glenash, I mean. I dinnae ken what I would have done otherwise."

"It was my pleasure, Lucy. Take care of yourself... I mean it." He kissed her on the forehead and left, knowing if he remained any longer he would stay forever. Leaving her was so hard.