“Stop calling me woman! I’ve got a name!”
“Damnable, maddening woman,” Callum spit out, making me see red.
“Me? Damnable? You started treating me like shit for no reason. Agnes was right! You are a bawbag,” I shot back.
“And what does Agnes know, eh? She’s running her mouth about the fey folk and ye’ve been here not three days and you’ve set yerself to encouraging it.”
“What?” I jerked back from Callum as if his words had bitten me. “What are you talking about?”
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “Ye ken exactly what I’m talking about. I know my aunt is eccentric but ye dinna ‘ave to agree with her.”
I gaped. “That’s what this is all about?”
“What else would it be about?”
I went silent. Save for our conversation the day before, we hadn’t come into contact again until his appearance in the bakeshop, when I had gone along with Agnes’s claim that fairies would help her bake through the day’s orders. Somehow Callum had been angered by it.
There had to be more to the talk of fey folk and their family. I understood family drama, and whatever their particular issue was was, I had stepped into the middle of it. I sucked in a deep breath, preparing to apologize.
“Callum,” I began, “I didn’t think—”
“That’s right, ye dinna think. If ye had ye woulda known not to encourage an old woman with an imagination that’s always gotten her in trouble,” Callum growled, the venom in his voice making my hands clench. His expression was stormy, all dark eyes and clenched jaw.
And yes, I was angry with him too, but what shocked me more was how much I wanted to wipe away the crease between his brows, run my hands over his hunched shoulders, and tell him I was sorry.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want him mad at me, but rather that I didn’t want him mad at all. I wanted to wipe the worry and hurt from him, to erase whatever had happened between him and Agnes—and that shocked the most of all.
“I’m going to go now,” I said, my voice shaking.
Callum said nothing as I turned on my heel and strode toward the door that led to my apartment. I didn’t stop walking until I was alone, and only then did I sag against the door and let the first hot tears spill from my eyes.
* * *
“Those look lovely, Del,” Agnes’s happy voice sang in my ear. I had just mastered Scottish shortbread, and just in time, too. There had been another dozen or so orders from families demanding only the finest for their first-footers.
Agnes had been patient and shown me where I’d measured wrong the previous day. Once corrected, I’d turned out exemplary shortbread, so much so that Agnes swore no one would be able to tell mine from hers.
It helped to have such a supportive and patient teacher. Her guidance had turned my insecurities on their head and now I felt more prepared than ever for the homestretch before New Year’s day. Agnes informed me that there would be a town-wide Hogmanay celebration to ring in the New Year properly, and everyone expected me to attend.
“They’ll all want to get a look at ye and make sure Callum didn’t run ye off,” she told me while we mixed the batter for the black bun together that afternoon. I’d never liked fruitcake until then, but making it was giving me a new appreciation.
“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning ignorance even though I knew what she meant.
“Lass,” Agnes murmured with a knowing look that had my cheeks turning pink under her motherly gaze.
I cleared my throat and looked away from her, down at the bowl of candied fruit in my hands, before I spoke. “He’s so pigheaded. And a bully, too.”
“Aye, I ken that.”
I gaped. “You do?”
Agnes nodded. “I raised him. Of course I ken what kind of man he is.”
I paused, considering. The missing pieces as to why Callum had been so protective over his aunt clicked into place as I processed it. “You raised him?” I echoed.
“Aye, since he was five.” Agnes wiped the back of her hand along her forehead and smiled at me when she noticed my worried expression. “Dinna fash. I won’t be mad at ye for saying a thing about him. He can be pig-headed, rash in his decisions, and his temper can run hot, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“But what?” I pressed, eager for more.
