A Time & Place for Every Laird by Angeline Fortin (reading comprehension books .txt) 📗

penchant for eatingwhile he played at cards. It was a story meant for his amusementand Hugh took it as such, along with a plateful of the objects,with his thanks. Sorcha made another for herself with tomato,lettuce, and cheese, her focus on her work as she assembled it.

“Just so you know,” she said more to thecutting board before her than to him, “you were right. Abouteverything.”

Chewing thoughtfully on his meal, Hughtipped his head gallantly and offered a rueful smile. “As were ye,lass. As were ye.”

The confession brought her gaze to his forthe first time since her return to the house. For a moment shegripped her knife tightly and stared at him in surprise before amore honest smile lit her bonny face. “Life’s a bitch, isn’tit?”

Hugh snorted at the unusual quip andstraightened, releasing a rumble of laughter that started deepwithin his chest. “Aye, lass, ’tis indeed.”

“It’s given us both a hell of a ride, but Isuppose we just need to suck it up and get over it, right?” sherambled on, going to the refrigerator for drinks. “Just likeeveryone said … though since you’ve had it way worse—yes, you heardme, way worse—I’ll give you … say, another week to get over it andmove on.”

Hugh raised a brow at that. She’d mournedfor three years over the loss of a husband and expected him to “getover” the loss of his entire life in a week? Sorcha snuck a glanceat him and winked and Hugh had to laugh. By God, but she wasteasing him! She certainly wasn’t one to hang on to her anger forlong, was she?

She set a bottle down in front of himlabeled Diet Coke, something she had been drinking almostcontinuously since they had met while Hugh had only beer, wine, andthe bottled water Sorcha had assured him was far safer and tastierthan the water in his day. Trustingly, Hugh took a swallow and feltthe liquid burn its way down his throat. Gasping, Hugh glared atthe bottle and then at her, only to find her eyes dancing. “Goodstuff, huh?” she asked, taking a long pull on her own drink andswallowing with a smack of her lips. “Ahh!”

“Yer a devious witch,” he accused but theywere both smiling at that point.

“Are we good then?”

Hugh nodded. “We are, Claire.”

She just shook her head, rolling her eyesexaggeratedly. “Oh, just call me Sorcha if you like. Claire somehowsounds wrong coming from you!”

Chapter 17

“Now hold it like this. Just wrap your handaround it … No, not so tight. Loosely. You want to have a good gripon it, not strangle it.”

“I am doing it exactly as ye said I should,lass!”

“I think you’re just not trying hardenough,” Claire chided. “Come on, we did your thing, now we get todo mine. We have to do something to pass the time.”

“When I said I was restless, I meant thatmayhap we could just take a walk on the beach,” Hugh said. “Idinnae mean anything like this!”

“Well, it’s raining,” she replied. “So thiswill have to do.”

“Of all the things ye hae shown me of thistime, this is my least favorite thus far.”

“Would you like somecheese with that whine?” Hugh’s brow shot up, and Claire smiledsmugly. “Come on, what are you afraid of? That awee lass like me mightkick your butt?”

Hugh pressed his lips together grimly.“Challenge accepted.”

“Good, now you just have to put your hipsinto it a little more.” Claire moved behind Hugh and put her handson his hips, pushing them to the side. “See?”

“I ken how tae do this,” he grouched. “I’vebeen doing so since I was a lad.”

“Really?” Claire asked. “How old were youthe first time? Because I’ve been doing this since I waseight.”

“’Twas invented by aScotsman, lass!” Hugh huffed. “I’m sure I ken how tae do it betterthan ye! This just doesnae feel right.”

Claire laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Comeon, try again.”

“Verra well.” Hugh lowered his hands andwrapped them, loosely this time, around the base of the longobject. Drawing them back, he swung them forward once more. “Howwas that?”

“Better,” Claire nodded, looking at thetelevision screen. “Three hundred yards. You’re certainly better atthis than you were at the bowling.”

“As I said, ‘twas invented by a Scotsman,”Hugh grouched before taking another swing. His virtual Wii golfball flew into the sky, through a tree, and landed on the edge ofthe green. “My countrymen would be appalled at what has become ofthe game. I cannae see that there is truly any skill involved withthis.”

Claire took her turn,swinging her controller and sending her own ball after Hugh’s.Unlike Hugh, she was enjoying the rainy afternoon. After lunch,Hugh had taught her a card game from histime called whist before she had insisted on showing him a moremodern entertainment by way of Wii Sports, which along with Let’sDance 1–4 and Zumba, comprised sum of Robert and Sue’s video gamecomplement.

Generally speaking, Hugh hadn’t completelygotten over his initial shocking dislike of the TV. He had hemmedand hawed over learning the games from the start, but Claire wasdetermined to give him a little immersion into the twenty-firstcentury and to show him some of what books could not. She hadoffered fencing initially, but Hugh had chosen bowling, a gameClaire was surprised to learn that he was somewhat familiar with intheory, though the game had changed drastically over the years.

They had played only a few frames beforeswitching over to golf. Claire suspected that her wicked curve onthe bowling ball might have had something to do with Hugh’s changeof mind. Clearly he had a competitive nature and didn’t like theidea of losing.

But he was good at golf, or at least thisversion of it. Claire frowned as Hugh putted successfully fromtwenty yards out and the cyber-crowd cheered. Even as unaccustomedas he was to the Wii controller and the awkward swing, he soon gotthe hang of them and was handily beating Claire by two strokesafter the second hole. Playing as a child with her father, Ryan,and Danny – before Danny had forsaken physical activity for allthings electronic – Claire had been the only female playing amongmen, a middle sister who had hated to lose—and