A Laird for All Time by Angeline Fortin (room on the broom read aloud txt) 📗

“Blessed touch?”

“Some say he has a healing touch or is just good luck or such nonsense,” Connor changed gears realizing that she was taking him much too seriously.  “Needn’t fear him, my love, he’s just a harmless old man with too much time on his hands.  Tends to like to poke around in other people’s business.”

‘Apparently,’ Emmy thought sarcastically, ‘and now I’m his newest hobby!’ What was she supposed to do now that her life - her future! - was resting in the hands of an ancient bored wizard/angel?  What did it all mean?  And what did he mean when he asked did she know what she wanted?  Once she had gotten past the anger of her mother’s death, she had always been a career driven woman.

“Are you ready to go?” Connor asked interrupting her thoughts.

Emmy stared at the empty door for a moment.  “Yea, I’m ready.”

Chapter 22

“Are ye sure ye want to do this?” he asked again as they went down the wooden dock to his boat mooring.  He had never seen anyone get sick from a carriage ride so quickly and she had moaned and groaned the entire ride as if she were about to die.  He had thought her to be made of sterner stuff than that and was almost afraid to take her out on the open waters of the sound lest she take up her whining once more.

“Of course!  I’m fine now, don’t worry about it,” she patted his hand assuredly and putting her troubles behind her.  “Which one is yours?”

Connor pointed along the dock to a large sailing vessel moored about half way up.  “There she is.  ‘Buidhe Bean-Chèile’”

Emmy looked with amazement to the boat and back up to him.  “Why, Connor!  It’s beautiful!  That’s no mere sailboat!”  Indeed, his boat was more like a small yacht trimmed with brass fittings; it looked like it could belong to a prince.  “Very nice, Connor, very nice. What does the name mean?”

“A Good Wife,” he answered jumping down into the deck at the bow before turning to help her down.  Emmy stared down at him with eyes bulging.

“It was named for my mother,” he explained with a low chuckle and Emmy exhaled a doubtful laugh taking his hand, but jumped much as he did to the deck before grinning up at him.

“Of course it was.  Wow, this is great!” she enthused.  The deck here was edged in benches but currently also sported two chairs for them to take in the scenery, she supposed.  “For us?”

“Aye, I thought ye might enjoy the view from here.  It will be windy, but I don’t think too unpleasant,” he assured her.

“No, not at all!  Wow!” she said again looking around her.  “Pretty cool, Connor.  Even Dr. Evans doesn’t have one this fancy.”

“Dr. Evans?” he queried curiously.

“One of the doctors at Hopkins,” she told him.  “He lives on his boat and keeps a berth out in Annapolis.  He had some of the senior residents out on the 4th of July to watch the fireworks on the bay.  I thought his was nice, but he’d envy you, I think.”

“He canna afford a house?”

Emmy laughed.  “Of course he can, silly.  He lives on the boat because he wants to.  I mean, no biggie, he’s a single guy.  Life’s all about him at this point.”

Connor wondered if this single ‘guy’ was one of the men Emmy had slept with but didn’t want to ruin their day so he kept the question to himself.  “What do ye think?”

“What? No tour?” she laughed.

“There’s not too much to see,” he demurred.  But he escorted her below to show her the main cabin with a small wood stove for heat and cooking and folding doors that could be closed to section off an area for sleeping.  Other than that there was only a small water closet.  It was small but the furnishings were elegant and she told him so.

He shrugged.  “It’s not much but it does allow several people at once to travel to the mainland without waiting for the ferry.  Shall we?”  He gestured to the short steps that would take them back on deck signaling Emmy should precede him.  As she started up however, her back side came to eye level and Connor was hard-pressed not to help her up just to have an excuse to put his hands just there.  Chuckling ruefully he shook his head, pocketing his hands in an effort to fight the temptation she presented.

Emmy looked back over her shoulder suspiciously.  “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head in denial.  “Nothing at all.  Up ye go and I’ll have the porter bring us some drinks on deck.”

“It’s a bit early for drinks isn’t it?”

“I was thinking tea actually.”  But as she started to wrinkle her nose he held up a hand.  “But since I know ye do not care for it, I thought perhaps coffee?  To warm us?”

The smile she offered was soft as she considered his thoughtfulness.  “Coffee would be wonderful.  Thank you.”

As they went on deck once more, preparations were already being made to make sail.  The small crew of four were raising the sails and shouting to one another as Emmy took a seat in one of the chairs at the bow.  When a deckhand draped a blanket across her lap, she offered her thanks.  Soon they were making their way into the sound and Emmy was cradling a porcelain cup of coffee in her hands.  It had nothing on Starbucks, of course, but it was strong and hot, warming her in the chill of the late October morning.  The winds off the sound bit at her cheeks and she raised her face to the wind in enjoyment even as she turned her mind to Donell’s cryptic words.

Chapter 23

For his part, Connor held his cup but could do nothing more than watch the joy on her face as she raised it, eyes